Gecko (9 page)

Hugh Washington closed his eyes.

“
Are you listening to me?”

“
I’m listening.” He wanted to shut out the captain’s voice, but he couldn’t. He knew what was coming.

“
You got a security guard killed and your partner badly shot up.”

“
How is he?”

“
He’ll live, no thanks to you. What in the world did you think you were doing?”

Washington didn’t answer.

“
Good, don’t say anything. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to know. You went to Monday’s house without a warrant or backup and Monday kills an innocent man and wounds your partner, not to mention putting you out of commission. Why am I not surprised?”

“
It wasn’t Monday,” Washington said.

“
Oh, who was it?”

“
I didn’t see.”

“
Then how do you know it wasn’t him?”

“
He’s in jail.”

“
No, he’s not. It may surprise you to know that he broke out early this morning. He killed two attorneys and a good cop in the process.”

“
Ah shit.”

“
You can say that again. If you had followed procedure and told us about the condo, we would have had him this morning, that poor security guard would still be alive and your partner wouldn’t be down the hall sucking oxygen.”

“
Sorry.”

“
Tell it to Walker, I don’t want to hear it. All I want from you is what you know.”

“
I don’t know anything.”

“
Yeah, then how come you knew about the Huntington Beach condo?”

“
I looked it up on the internet,” he lied.

“
How did you get the key?”

“
I didn’t, the guard had it,” he lied again.

“
I can check.”

“
Then do it.”

“
All right, all right, no need to get hot under the collar.”

“
Whatever you say, John.”

“
After all, I just came by to see how you were doing. Unofficial.”

“
And?”

“
You were the best once. You’ve been digging, don’t deny it. I know you.”

Washington didn’t say anything.

“
As long as I’m here, I’d like your take on this thing. Why do you think he did it and where do you think he might go?”

“
I don’t have the foggiest. And I don’t believe Monday killed anyone.”

“
You’re wrong,” the captain said. The room was quiet for a few seconds as the two men stared at each other, then the captain added, “I came here offering an olive branch and you’re holding back. I want some answers and if you ever want to get back into a uniform, much less back in Homicide, you’ll tell me what I want to know.”

“
I don’t know anything, John. Really I don’t.”

“
That’s your final word?”

“
It’s God’s own truth,” Hugh Washington said.

“
Well, I have a final word for you. As soon as you check out of here, go straight to your captain. I have a feeling that he’ll want your badge and gun. You’re through, Washington.”

“
So you were lying about me getting back in uniform or maybe back in Homicide. You only said it to get something out of me? I was finished with the department no matter if I knew anything or not, wasn’t I?”

“
Fuck you,” his former friend said, showing his back and walking out the door.

So, Washington thought, it’s finally happened. He was going to lose his job, no longer be a cop. Where to go from here? What next? His law degree might be a help, a shame he never took the bar. There must be something out there for him. Security consultant maybe—not bad, or security guard—pretty bad. But before he did anything, he resolved, he would get to the bottom of the Jim Monday business. He would show them that Hugh Washington still had what it takes. Then after he presented them with the killer and they were begging him to come back on the force, he’d tell them to shove it.

He smiled at the thought, knowing he wouldn’t ever tell them that. If they wanted him back, he’d go. Being a cop is all he ever was, all he ever wanted to be. And there was only one way for him to get back. Find Jim Monday.

He looked around the room. It was an ordinary hospital room, two beds, a nightstand next to each one, the second bed was vacant. There was a television mounted on the wall, two utilitarian chairs for visitors, two dinner trays on wheels, one bathroom and one closet. He lowered the safety bar and climbed out of bed. His head throbbed. He steadied himself as he shuffled his aching body toward the closet, where he found his clothes. His shirt, slacks and jacket were neatly hanging. His underwear and socks, neatly folded on the overhead shelf. His shoes, neatly placed on the floor. His tie seemed to have gone missing.

He stepped back from the closet, did a couple of knee bends and groaned. Concentrating, he straightened his knees and tried to touch the floor. He groaned again, louder, but he wanted to see how damaged he was. He discovered sore muscles, but other than his banged up head and skinned hand, he appeared to be okay.

He went into the bathroom, splashed water on his face and studied the bandage on his forehead in the mirror. For the next few days he would stand out in a crowd. Frowning, he took off his hospital gown and studied his body, finding a large blue bruise by the lower left part of his rib cage, where Walker’s gun had dug into his side. He touched it and winced. It was painful, but it wouldn’t slow him down or restrict him in anyway.

He padded naked out of the bathroom. It was time to go. He went to the closet and put on his clothes, wincing again as he bent to get into his underwear and still again as he bent to put on his slacks. His belt was missing, too. He put on his white shirt, grit his teeth and held on to the wall. He sat in one of the chairs, put on his shoes and socks, feeling like a child, as he struggled with his bandaged hand to tie his shoelaces.

Then he rang for a nurse. Seconds later a young woman with a wide smile, showing plenty of teeth and wearing a white uniform entered the room. She attempted a frown when she saw the big man dressed, but she wasn’t able to pull it off, because even a frown on her toothy face looked like a smile.

“
Mr. Washington,” she tried to scold him through grinning teeth and twinkling blue eyes, “where do you think you’re going?”

“
I’m checking out.”

“
But you can’t. You’re not well.”

“
I’m sorry, I have things to do.”

“
I know, I was listening at the door. He’s not a nice man.”

“
Apparently not.” Washington returned her smile.

“
You’ll need the rest of your things,” she said.

He followed her with his eyes as she seemed to glide to the nightstand next to the bed. She opened the top drawer, took out his badge, wallet, belt and tie. His weapon wasn’t there and he didn’t ask about it. She handed him the belt and he put it on. Then he slipped the badge and wallet into his pocket.

“
You’ll need help with the tie,” she said, looking at his bandaged hand.

“
I’d appreciate it.”

“
Stand up straight.” She wrapped it around his neck. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you posture?”

Hugh laughed, stood erect.

“
There,” she said, “finished, a perfect Windsor.” Then with both her tiny hands, she grabbed the tie in two balled fists and forced Washington to look straight into her eyes. She didn’t blink when she said. “You are going to find out who killed those people and show that jerk up for what he is, aren’t you?”

“
That’s just what I’m going to do.” He smiled.

“
Behind you.” She jumped back, startled, releasing the tie.

Washington spun around and saw a gecko scurry up the wall and disappear behind the television set.

“
It’s only a gecko.”

“
I know.” She regained her composure, “It’s just that we don’t have them in California.”

“
It must be somebody’s pet. A kid, visiting his mother or father probably snuck it in and it got away.”

“
Probably,” she said.

“
Some places they’re regarded as a good luck sign.”

“
And some places they’re a portent of evil,” she said.

“
My luck has been too bad to get any worse. I’ll accept it as a good luck sign,” he said.

“
Me too.” She smiled wide, showing off her teeth.

“
Now I’d like to talk to my partner, if that’s possible?”

“
He’s in ICU.”

“
What’s he doing in intensive care?”

“
He’s okay. He was shot, remember? It’s standard procedure.”

“
Can I see him?”

“
Sure, down the hall, turn left. Follow the signs.”

“
Thanks.” He started to go.

“
Hugh Washington,” she said.

He turned. “Yes?”

“
After you catch your killer, come back and buy me dinner. Okay?”

“
Count on it.”

He went through the swinging doors of the ICU and approached the nurse’s station.

“
I’m looking for Ron Walker,” he asked the nurse on duty.

“
Five-eleven, that way.” She pointed. “You’ll have to wait, only two visitors at a time. He’s already one over.”

“
Is it okay if I go in now?” He showed her his badge.

“
Five-eleven, that way.” She pointed again. “I’m sorry. You look more like a patient than you do a policeman.”

“
I feel more like a patient,” he said. Then added. “How is he?”

“
He’ll be out of ICU tonight.”

“
That’s good.”

“
But his arm will never be the same.”

“
Oh no.”

“
He was lucky,” she said.

“
I hope he sees it that way.”

“
I think he does. He’s taking it very well.”

“
Thanks for telling me.” He returned her smile, then pointed, “Five-eleven, that way.”

“
That’s right.” She pointed for the third time.

He followed her finger and found Walker in his room, an IV in his arm, feeding him a clear, gluey looking substance.

“
They’ve got you hooked up like an astronaut,” he said, looking at the monitors.

“
Yeah,” Walker said. “I keep checking the heart rate to make sure I’m still alive.”

“
I’m Hugh Washington,” he said to the pretty woman and the two young girls. “You must be the lovely Carol I’ve heard so much about.” Smiling at the two girls, he added, “And you two pretty ladies must be Denise and Dianne.”

“
We meet at last,” Carol Walker said. “I only wish it could have been under better circumstances.”

“
I’m sorry I got him into this,” Washington said. “It was my fault. I was pigheaded and bent the rules and this is the result.”

“
It’s not your fault. You didn’t put a gun to Ron’s head. It’s just bad luck. You pay your money and you take your chances.”

“
Honey, could I talk to Hugh alone for a few minutes?”

“
Come on girls, let’s see if we can find the cafeteria.” She kissed her husband. “We’ll be back in about forty-five minutes.”

“
Thanks,” Walker said.

“
I love you,” she said, leading the girls out of the room.

“
I love you too,” he called after her.

“
I’m sorry it wound up this way, Walker,” Washington said after she was gone. “I really didn’t count on Monday being a killer. Go figure.”

“
He’s not. I know it. Not him.”

“
You heard about what happened?”

“
I know Monday escaped. That a cop and two lawyers are dead, but I still don’t think he’s a killer,” Walker said.

“
Rich guy like that, hard for me to believe, but everything seems to be pointing to him.”

“
You said yourself that it looked like whoever killed Askew was waiting, that you thought it was murder.”

“
I could have been wrong.”

“
Not you.”

“
Even I make mistakes.”

“
Then what about those shots in the alley?”

“
Could be coincidence.”

“
And the Pope could be a Methodist, but he’s not.”

“
Look, Walker, I know you admire the guy.”

“
I don’t admire him, I respect him and everything I’ve learned about him tells me he wouldn’t kill anyone. Not unless he had a very good reason.”

“
Maybe he had a reason,” Washington said.

“
Not for killing a cop to escape from city jail.”

“
Maybe getting out of jail was all the reason he needed.”

“
The man spent four years in a North Vietnamese POW camp and he didn’t crack. A few days in our jail would be like the Hilton to him and you don’t kill to get out of the Hilton.”

“
People change.”

“
You’re forgetting that he didn’t have to be there. He asked for it. He wanted the time to get his head straight, remember?”