Dues of Mortality (16 page)

Glenda
peered anxiously at the wall clock—7:15!
That’s it?
The minutes were dragging by like days. She set her cup on an end
table and pinched her temples. The events of the alley were on an
unrelenting and miasmic loop in Glenda's head. It was looking like
Det. Roberts was right on point. According to that mistake-of-nature
with the knife, someone, for some reason she couldn't fathom,
wanted
desperately to harm her, to...she gagged on the word “kill”
as it burst to the surface like a bubble from an oozing swamp
.

She
also thought about Richard Kelmer. Did that maniac from the alley
want to kill
him
too? Had he done so already?
She
prayed that wasn't the case. She pictured Roberts and Kelmer sitting
in a room somewhere sorting this all out. She envisioned the
detective collecting answers, maybe finding that homeless man who had
saved her. Before he left her with Jones, Roberts mentioned securing
video from the bank where she'd been interviewed. Banks kept
surveillance on virtually every square inch of their property and the
surrounding block. The chance of finding something relevant was a
good one.
Where
is he?

A
few feet away, perched at the inside edge of a window, was Det. Perry
Jones. He stood with one hand fingering the curtain aside and the
other was slapped over his bent hip, just inches from his holstered
3mm MAG pistol. He’d been standing there virtually since they’d
entered the room, training his eyes on the street below. Ordinarily,
he would be with his partner following up the lead on Kelmer, but
Roberts was uncomfortable leaving Glenda with someone she didn’t
already know.

“
I
know this is gonna sound stupid, but you should really try harder to
calm down,” Jones said.

Glenda
looked thoughtful. “
You
know something? You’re right. It does sound stupid. I nearly
got my throat cut this morning; it’s put me in a bit of a
tizzy.” She squeezed the cup tighter, turning her fingertips
purple. “What if Richard Kelmer is already dead? What if
that...that bastard already found him and killed him? And I’ll
never know why. Not until the last moment...before they kill me,
too.”

“
No
one is going to kill you, ma’am,” Hamilton Bowen said. “I
promise.” Bowen was part of the patrol unit ordered to the
area. He'd remained in the room after checking in with Jones and was
hanging around, in large part, because no one told him he couldn't.

“
Shouldn’t
you be downstairs in the squad car with Percy?” Jones asked
him.

“
I’m
just trying to reassure Ms. Jameson.” Bowen smiled tenderly at
the object of his infatuation.

Glenda
acknowledged him in kind, almost having to hold back a girlish titter
in the company of his hormonal assertions. She liked Bowen. He calmed
her. His predictable male bravado meant he might be willing to jump
in front of a speeding bus for her, now that she had some of his
blood flowing south.

“
Perhaps
she would feel more reassured if you were actually at your post,”
Jones nudged, “which, as I reiterate, is downstairs in your
unit.”

Glenda
shrugged at Bowen. How ironic was the chivalry, she thought. If she
were sixteen again—or for that matter twenty—she would
never look twice at someone like him, heart on his sleeve, longing
for attention. It would have smacked of desperation.

Then
again, maybe that wasn’t it at all.

The
vibe of absolute adoration coming from Bowen was enormous, like
something out of a teenage romantic comedy. And maybe she knew there
was no chance of her stacking up to that consummate fair maiden he'd
imagined. To have a man like Bowen fall
out
of love with you, you’d have to be the kind of woman who
made Hester Prynne look like the Virgin Mary. How would she ever
recover? She looked up at her admirer and gave him a heart-warming
wink.

“
Thank
you, officer,” she said. “I’m fine, really. I
wouldn’t want your conscientious concern for my safety to get
you in trouble with the higher-ups.”

Bowen's
cheeks shined. “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered and walked
dutifully toward the door.

She
gave him a toothy smile as he left.

“
Whew,
kids,” Jones remarked.

“
He’s
sweet,” Glenda said defensively.

“
He’s
sickening.”

“
Oh,
you’re just mad because he’s not like the rest of you.
Everybody knows policemen who’ve been on the job as long as you
have are all bitter, angry, burnouts so disillusioned that they think
the best things in life don’t outweigh the worst.”

Jones
shook his head. “It’s amazing how much civilians learn
from reruns of NYPD Blue.”

****

A soulful blues rift tailed the
hearty aromas of equally soulful cuisine throughout the large dining
room of the Blue Fish Café. The thick, calorie-laden air
settled onto virtually everything it touched and the smell, alone,
was almost worth the price of an appetizer. Taken with the indistinct
chatter of the dinner crowd, it provided a suitably mellow atmosphere
for Miles Gabriel, who sat at a thankfully isolated table just off
the kitchen entrance. While the café was pleasant, Gabriel
could never quite tolerate coming to these middle-class, uninvolved
parts of the city. The sheer boredom was more than he could stomach.
Gabriel sat back loosely; his legs crossed femininely at the knee as
he slowly sipped on a salty Merlot. Soft manicured fingernails
drummed lightly on the briefcase placed conspicuously on the cozy
table for two. A webscreen panel hung on the wall opposite Gabriel
and he was glued to a live news report about a defiant Michigan
senator who was gaining support in his campaign to increase
regulation of the biotech industry. A ticking sound grew loud in
Gabriel’s brain. Wallace would call. He knew it. He'd call and
order Gabriel to proceed with this foolhardy backup plan and Gabriel
would have no choice but to comply.
Maybe
I should turn off my watch
, he thought. It was the only
thing he could come up with short of stepping into oncoming traffic.
There was a time when Gabriel could rein in the old man, keep him
from taking these kinds of risks.

But
not anymore.

The
high-powered attorney who’d won and kept Wallace’s utmost
faith was losing touch with his greatest success.
It
had to be age
, Gabriel thought. How many more glory days
did Wallace have left? Couldn’t the entire operation be seen as
some desperate attempt at immortality, to control death by
controlling life? In the years he’d known Wallace, Gabriel had
never once heard him lament about having no heir. Perhaps the old man
had a different plan, a more “high-tech” solution to
leaving his legacy. Gabriel laughed. Wouldn’t that beat all?

No
sooner had the webscreen's news report completed, when Gabriel’s
comwatch trilled in unison with the glowing green indicator on the
watch face. His eyes batted like he was catching a face full of dust.
He set his drink on the placemat, picked up his briefcase, and
sequestered himself to the men’s room.

After
assuring there was no one else present, Gabriel fingered the receiver
imbedded in his left ear and pressed the answer button on his watch.
Heavy breaths through the earpiece made it sound like the old cuss
was calling from a windy ocean shore.

“
Yes.
Yes, I was watching when you called,” Gabriel said. “They
finally took a break from reporting on your dearly-departed rival.”

“
Peter
Simonton was no rival,” Wallace said. “He was a whiny
nuisance. Granted, a particularly loud one we’re better off
without. Can’t say I didn’t see it coming, right?”

“
I
suppose neither of us can.”

“
You
know that the independents have just declared their support. We’re
losing!”

“
It
wasn’t exactly unexpected. We knew he was likely to make some
gains.”

“
Those
gains just put him two votes over the top! The vote is in less than
two weeks! We’ve run out of time!”

“
I
don’t think...”

Wallace
refused to let Gabriel finish. A salvo of panic-induced orders cut
through the earpiece like a reciprocating saw.

“
I
wouldn’t recommend that course of action just yet,”
Gabriel said. “She’s still being guarded. Keep in mind,
the unit is a prototype and
it
wasn't built for this
.
We don't know exactly how it will perform. If we were to take such
steps now, there could be unforeseen complications.”

“
That’s
the same shit you told me last night when she was in the hospital!
The fucking hospital! I own that whole goddamn place as far as
everyone is concerned! She was delivered right to us and we did
nothing!”

“
The
place was crawling with security. There were guards posted and she
was only there for observation. We couldn’t just send somebody
in a nurse’s uniform to stick a needle in her.”

Wallace
became a broken dam of obscenities and Gabriel winced painfully as he
punched at the volume control on his watch. He fought the urge to dig
the earpiece out and fling it into the nearest urinal. Wallace wasn’t
going be talked down from the ledge this time. If Gabriel didn’t
do as he was told, Wallace would cut him loose and take his chances;
everything would go to hell.
Maybe
I should trust the old man's instincts on this one
,
he thought. After all, that vote was as big a threat to Gabriel as it
was to his boss.
Something
had
to be done and often there was a
fine line between caution and stagnation.

Gabriel
grimaced as if he’d dropped a dumbbell on his foot. “All
right,” he said. “Give me a few minutes to confirm the
program. If all goes well, it should be done within the hour.”
He sighed openly as Wallace threatened him. “Yes, I will.”

A
disparaging wake of partners’ transfers trailed officer Lou
Percy through the precinct like a funeral cortege. And as he sat next
to him, parked outside the motel, Hamilton Bowen was beginning to see
why. Two months he had been riding with Percy and Bowen was still
having to watch every uniform in the duty room strangle themselves to
keep a straight face during roll call. They didn't
want
to see the kid suffer, but having to endure Percy was an initiation
of sorts, and they figured better him than them. It wasn't that Percy
was inept or a bad cop. On the contrary; he was top-of-the-line with
a superior number of commendations to prove it. It was even rumored
Percy had sort of a sixth sense that told him when things were about
to get hairy. In the past, he’d saved two partners from almost
getting shot, and he rescued a ten-year-old girl from being raped by
a kidnapper before anyone even knew she was missing. The
problem
with Percy was that he had a profound love of his own voice—which
wouldn't be so bad if he ever said something that justified it. Bowen
could see Percy for what he was: a good cop, but a lonely soul that
made every taxpayer penny spent on the department psychologist a
solid investment. Bowen could sometimes even hearken sympathetically
toward Percy. But in the end, for all his attempts at accession, the
fair-haired and fair-
minded
Bowen spent most of the time being bludgeoned with profane fictions
of sexual conquests, full-court jump shots and a male-stripper
brother-in-law.
Oh,
well
, Bowen thought. It was the price he paid for
being a rookie. And it could have been worse. He could have been
partnered up with one of those inanimate holograms that look like
cops, but have long since let the hope of making a difference fly the
coop...along with their ability to smile or occasionally pick up the
check. Being the openhearted choirboy that he often denied he was,
Bowen vowed not to request a transfer unless it was absolutely vital
to his sanity.

“
Why
don’t I run over to the Blue Fish and grab a couple of shark
steak specials?” Percy said.

“
I’m
not hungry,” Bowen answered.

“
Yes,
you are. That’s why you keep looking for an excuse to go up
there.”

Bowen
rolled his eyes. Percy had been riding him all day about his precious
Glenda, coming so close as to threaten the fantasy. He wanted Percy
to shut up more than he wanted world peace. “Are you seriously
still on this?”

“
Ay,
I’m not judging you. It happens all the time. We’re the
protectors of the innocent.” Percy’s eyebrows did the
most squalid little dance. “And there’s always gonna be
an added dynamic when those innocents are fine looking women. It's a
Galahad thing. You don’t just want to protect them from the bad
guys, but from
all
the evil that exists in the
world. Women love that shit; it’s erotic.”

“
You
have serious mental problems, man.”

“
I
didn’t hear you call me wrong.”

“
It
was implied. If you were smart, you would have picked up on it.”
Bowen paused. “Listen, I think I
am
working on an appetite here. Why
don’t you go grab that grub, like you said?” He’d
figured it to be a good idea to rid himself of Percy for a while,
give his ears a well-deserved respite.