Lady Justice on the Dark Side (Volume 19) (2 page)

CHAPTER 2

    I awoke in a daze and found myself in a hospital bed surrounded by every significant person in my life.

    My wife, Maggie, was at my bedside holding my hand and Dad was peering over her shoulder. Mary, Willie, Bernice, Jerry and the Professor were huddled at the end of the bed, and Captain Short stood by the monitors that were hooked to various parts of my body.

    Seeing my eyes flutter open, Dad was the first to speak. “Son! Thank God! I thought we’d lost you.”

    As my head began to clear, that last horrifying moment before I blacked out flashed into my mind. “Ox! Is he ---?”

    “He’s fine,” the captain replied. “He’s in the next room and Judy is with him. He took one in the arm, but it was a through and through. He’ll be all right.”

    “The shooters?”

    “By the time we arrived on the scene, the creeps had scattered like a bunch of cockroaches. We checked every apartment and, of course, no one saw a thing. The van they left out front was stolen, so we don’t have much to go on.”

    “I guess you’ve figured out that the drive-by was a set up.”

    “Seems that way. Looks like we’ve got a militant gang out there with one thing on their minds --- killing cops. We’ve cautioned every officer to not take any situation for granted. Any routine call, a domestic disturbance or even a hold-up could be another trap. This vendetta is undoubtedly payback for the deaths of the two young black men. It’s scary as hell out there right now.”

    Bernice patted my foot. “How are you feeling, Walt? Does it hurt much?”

    Up to that moment, I had been more worried about my partner and nearly forgotten that I had been shot as well.

    At Bernice’s urging, I took stock of my body parts and suddenly realized that my kiester hurt like hell. “Actually, yes! My butt feels like it’s on fire.”

    “You caught one in the arse, Son,” Dad said, grinning. “The doc says you’ll be okay, but you’ll probably have a new dimple on your cheek.”

    “Swell!”

    “On the bright side,” Jerry said, “you now have something in common with Forrest Gump, although I wouldn’t recommend you showing it off like he did.”

    Jerry’s remark brought to mind the scene in the movie where Forrest is being presented with the Medal of Honor and President Lyndon Johnson asks where he was wounded.

    “In the but-tocks, Sir,” Forrest replies.

    Forrest is shocked when the president says he would like to see it, and Forrest obliges by dropping his trousers and mooning the president.

    Jerry needn’t have worried. I definitely wouldn’t be showing off my scar.

    “Okay,” Dad said, “time to go. The kid needs some rest.”

    Everyone nodded reluctantly and one by one, they said their goodbyes.

    Mary Murphy, the bold-as-brass housemother at my Three Trails Hotel, leaned down and a tear fell on my cheek as she kissed me on the forehead. I think it was the first tear I had ever seen her shed.

    She came close and whispered in my ear. “Mr. Walt, please don’t do this no more. I don’t know what I’d do if we lost you.”

    Willie was right behind her. “Dat was a close one. I thought I’d lost my bes’ friend. When you gonna quit doin’ dis dangerous stuff?”

    The Professor, hearing the words of his friends, wasted no time in quoting a bit of wisdom from one of his favorite sages. “Confucius says, ‘Forget injuries, never forget kindness.’ It would be wise to heed the advice of those who love you.”

    Finally, everyone was gone but Maggie. She hadn’t uttered a word since I had gained consciousness. She didn’t have to. The expression on her face said it all.

    In the five years I had been a cop, we both had flirted with death so many times I had lost count. Just a few weeks earlier, I had nearly been killed three times within a matter of days as the shooting incident involving the two young black men played out.

    I had promised Maggie as soon as things died down we’d have a serious conversation about our future. I hadn’t forgotten that promise, but I kept putting it off.

    The look on her face left no doubt that the time for our talk had arrived.

    “Walt, I just don’t know if I can do this anymore. Every day when you go to work, I wonder if I’ll ever see you alive again. I know I’ve told you over and over again that if this is what you want I won’t stand in your way, but I have to ask you, is this really how you want us to spend what time we have left?”

    She was right, of course. We were both seventy and had been married only four short years. I had been truly blessed to have found this wonderful person with whom to share my golden years. Only a fool would risk losing all that to pursue a career that could put an end to everything at any moment.

    “No,” I replied, “I’ve given this a lot of thought and it’s time to put away the badge. You mean more to me than anything in this crazy old world. As of right now, I’m retired. I’ll tell the captain and break the news to Ox.”

    “Walt, are you sure? I don’t want you to resent me for forcing you to make this decision. That would be worse than having you out there risking your life every day.”

    “How could I resent you for wanting me to be safe? It’s not just you. The throbbing in my ass is telling me in no uncertain terms that this is the right time to step away. It’s time. No regrets.”

    Maggie’s soft sobs as she laid her head on my chest told me I had made the right decision.

    It had been a rough night.

    My butt cheek throbbed when I tried to lay on my back or right side, so the only other position was on my left side. After a few hours, even that was uncomfortable.

    To make matters worse, I knew the next day I would have to do one the most difficult things I could imagine --- tell my partner that I was quitting.

    After breakfast, I slipped out of bed, grabbed the back of the hospital gown so my ass wouldn’t hang out, and padded into Ox’s room dragging my IV rack.

    He was sitting up in bed, his arm in a sling. “Hey, Partner. I hear our friends tried to give you a new asshole. How’s that working for you?”

    Hearing him call me ‘partner’ hurt more than my rear end.

    “I heard you got perforated yourself,” I replied, trying to keep the mood light.

    He patted his arm. “Just a flesh wound. I’ll be good as new and ready to go in a week. How about you?”

    The time I had been dreading had come. “About that. We need to talk.”

    The look on his face told me he knew what was coming.

    “Walt, I totally understand. I knew this day would be coming sooner or later. You’re seventy, for chrissakes! Who in their right mind would spend their golden years hoping some gangbanger or crack head wasn’t going to put a bullet in a more vulnerable spot?”

    “So --- you’re okay with it?”

    “Hell no, I’m not okay with it, but I understand. You’re the best partner a guy could ask for and I’ll miss you like crazy. You and Maggie deserve some quiet time together.”

    “What about you? You’ve got your twenty in. Have you thought about retirement?”

    “Oh sure, I’ve thought about it, but if I quit, what would I do? Get a job as a mall cop or maybe a night watchman? Being a cop is all I know how to do. I’m twenty years younger than you, plus I have a wife that’s a cop and a long way from retirement. No, I’m here for a while longer. I just hope my next partner will be half as good as you.”

    Ox had made a difficult moment bearable. That’s what good partners do.

    I had called the captain at the precinct and told him that I was stepping down.

    That very afternoon, he stopped by the hospital.

    “Walt, I’m really going to miss you. You’re the best undercover guy I’ve ever had.”

    During my five years on the force, I had been ‘volunteered’ for assignments as a john because I looked ‘old and needy,’ a transvestite because of my slight build and relatively hairless legs, a dying man because I was the closest thing they had to a cadaver, and once, Vince Spaulding and I had to pose as a gay couple.

    “Well, you’ve still got Vince. He can do your ‘old guy’ stuff.”

    “Actually, I don’t,” the captain said, sadly. “When Vince heard you were packing it in, he decided to do the same. He’s the same age as you. Apparently, he has a buddy with a fishing boat down in the Florida Keys. He’s moving down there to crew on the fishing boat. Looks like this is the end of the City Retiree Action Patrol.”

    This news hit me in the gut.

    I was the first person sixty-five years old who had been allowed to join the police force. After Ox and I had achieved some success, the people in City Hall realized that maybe old guys could actually contribute something after all. They organized what became known as the City Retiree Action Patrol and put me in charge of recruitment. My first recruit was Vince Spaulding.

    We became the laughing stock of the department when it was discovered that the acronym for our new group was C.R.A.P., and only after the two of us distinguished ourselves with an impressive arrest record did we earn some respect.

    My second and last recruit was Ed Jacobs who was killed in the line of duty.

    It was a sad moment, knowing that what we had built and what we had achieved was coming to an end.

    I was reminded of the verse in Ecclesiastes.

   
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.

    A time to be born and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which has been planted
.

    My career as an officer and the City Retiree Action Patrol had been born and we had enjoyed a season of prosperity, and now that season was coming to an end.

    A time to be born and a time to die. It made sense, but it certainly didn’t make it easy.

CHAPTER 3

    “A party!” Jerry declared. “Walt can’t retire without a party. It just wouldn’t be right.”

    “I agree,” Dad chimed in. “I can get the Teamsters Union Hall just like I did for Ox’s bachelor party. We’ll have food, booze and maybe some girls will drop by, if you know what I mean.”

    “Absolutely not!” Maggie interrupted. “Food yes, but no booze. You old farts get too crazy.”

    “And no girls!” Bernice added, punching Dad in the arm.

    “Party poopers,” Dad mumbled, knowing he was outnumbered.

    “Hold on a minute,” I said. “Don’t I have any say in this? What if I don’t want a party?”

    “Too bad!” they all chimed at once.

    I, too, could see I was outnumbered. It looked like I was going to have a party.

    Dad came through as promised and on the night of the big event, the Teamsters parking lot was full.

    Every cop in the precinct and their families were invited. It was indeed a special occasion when one of their brothers left the force actually breathing. Too often, gatherings such as this were to mourn the passing of one who had fallen in the line of duty.

    Maggie had made arrangements for a retired Independence cop to cater the event with his famous bar-b-que and all the fixin’s.

    Mary had been stationed by the punch bowl with her ever-present bat to make sure that Dad or one of his cohorts didn’t spike the punch.

    I would have been more than happy to just blend into the background, but since this shindig was all about me, Maggie insisted that we stand by the door to greet our guests.

    I was, of course, happy to see all of my friends and fellow officers, but after a hundred or so handshakes and hugs, I was exhausted and the new hole in my kiester hurt from being on my feet.

    Mercifully, my reception duties finally came to an end. When everyone was seated, Maggie and I took our seats at the head table. I breathed a sigh of relief as I sank into the foam donut I had purchased from Wally Bunker’s drug store.

    Jerry had been given the role of Master of Ceremonies, and to his credit, was playing it straight for a change.

    “Ladies and gentlemen, I want to thank you all for coming this evening to honor our friend, Walt Williams. I know I’m starving and the tantalizing aroma of Rob’s bar-b-que is driving me crazy, so to get things started, I’d like to invite Pastor Bob of the Community Christian Church to offer a word of blessing.”

     Pastor Bob came to the podium.

    “Let us bow our heads in prayer. Heavenly Father, we have gathered together this evening to celebrate the life of a man who has given the last five years of his life in service to his fellow man. As your servant, I am humbled to be in the presence of not only Walt Williams, but the hundreds of others who put their lives on the line every day to protect and serve the people of this city. I would ask your blessing upon all of them and their families. Keep them safe and free from harm. I would also ask you to bless the food that has been prepared for us, to nourish and strengthen us so that we can continue in your service. Amen.”

    There was a chorus of “Amens,” throughout the building.

    Jerry returned to the podium. “Thank you Pastor Bob. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m ready to eat. Walt, lead the way.”

    Gingerly, I rose from my donut and led the head table to the serving line.

    In addition to the bar-b-que beef, pulled pork and baked beans, there was a tray of yellow, red and green Jell-O cubes. Ox’s face lit up when he spotted them. He had discovered and become quite fond of Jell-O shots at his bachelor party, and had, in fact, slurped them down until he became quite tipsy.

    “Looks like your dad came through after all,” he whispered as he filled his plate.

    The meal was everything we had hoped it would be. When we were all stuffed to the gills, Jerry returned to the podium.

    “This is supposed to be a celebration, so the last thing I want is to bore you with a bunch of long speeches, but the evening wouldn’t be complete without a few words from the man that hired Walt Williams five years ago, Captain Duane Short.”

    Everyone rose and applauded as our captain approached the mike.

    “When Walt Williams came into my office five years ago and announced that he wanted to be a cop, I tried my best to talk him out of it, but the guy just wouldn’t back down. Thank God he didn’t. The man has been awarded the Medal of Honor not just once, but twice, and his arrest record with his partner, Ox, and the members of the City Retiree Action Patrol is exceptional. I am proud to know and serve with this fine officer. I wish him the best in his retirement.”

    The captain took his seat and Jerry introduced the next speaker.

    “I think Vince Spaulding has a few parting words for our guest.”

    “Five years ago, at the age of sixty-five, I was asked to leave the only job I had ever known because I was just too old and they wanted some younger blood. I had no idea what I was going to do with the rest of my life, then I heard about the City Retiree Action Patrol. After talking with Walt, I knew that the program was perfect for me. If I had realized at the time that the initials for the program were C.R.A.P., I might have had second thoughts, but, thankfully, I didn’t. It was exactly what I needed at that time in my life. Now, like Walt, I’m ready to move on to the next phase of my life and I look forward to spending many sunny days in the Florida sun on my buddy’s fishing boat. I’ll miss you all, but I’ll get over it!”

    More cheers as Vince took his seat.

    “And now, a word or two from the poor sap that had to ride with Walt day in and day out for five years, his partner, Ox.”

    Ox had hit the Jell-O shot tray three times, and I noticed he was a bit wobbly as he made his way to the mike.

    “There are three people that have been the closest to me in my life, my mother, God rest her soul, my beautiful wife, Judy, and my partner. I have been blessed to have all three. There is a special bond between a man and his partner that goes way beyond friendship. Every day when we put on the uniform, we know that our very lives depend on the man or woman riding along beside us. I can’t begin to count how many times that trust has been put to the test and each and every time my partner has come through for me. I love that man with all my heart and I’ll miss him terribly. I --- .”

    He tried to continue, but just couldn’t. He sobbed, gave me a big bear hug and slumped into his seat.

    “I think we all share your love for this man, Ox,” Jerry said. “Now, to wrap things up, I’d like to read a little ditty I’ve put together for Walt. I call it,
Ode to an Old Retired Guy
.”

    I knew Jerry couldn’t get through the evening without resorting to one of his alter egos. Thankfully it was Jerry the Poet and not Jerry the Stand-up Comic.

    Twas just a short five years ago

    That Walt became a cop.

    His family tried to warn him

    But the old fool couldn’t stop.

    With a badge and a gun, he hit the street

    With those who had gone before.

    To give a hand to Lady Justice

    And even up the score.

    He found himself a partner

    A big guy they call Ox.

    They became the Dynamic Duo

    A team that really rocks.

    It wasn’t long before he proved

    That old guys really rule.

    The group he formed was labeled C.R.A.P.

    Which was really kind of cool.

    As the Captain’s undercover guy

    He could do most any gig.

    He could morph into most anyone

    With a moustache or a wig.

    He lived a life of danger

    Cheating death almost at will.

    Someone on High had given him

    A destiny to fulfill.

    But then one day it happened

    He could see the end had come.

    To keep on cheating danger

    Was really kind of dumb.

    Unfortunately, the very thing

    That made this come to pass.

    Turned out to be, the indignity

    Of a bullet in the ass.

    So here we are, all gathered round

    To wish this hero well.

    And we’re glad he quit before some creep

    Could blow him straight to hell!

    There was a round of applause, but before he could continue, all hell broke loose.

    First there was the squeal of tires, then the shattering of glass and the splintering of wood from a hail of bullets.

    Women screamed and officers pushed their spouses to the floor, taking cover under the tables.

    The attack lasted only a few minutes. We heard the squeal of tires as the shooters sped away.

    A deathly silence fell over the room broken only by the sobs of the frightened and the injured.

    Frantically, I searched for my family and friends.

    I was relieved to see them all stagger to their feet.

    All but one.

    Vince Spaulding was dead.