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Authors: J. Travis Phelps

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Chapter VI

 

Sullivan awoke to the sun coming in through a crack in the
drape. His watch alarm slurred a beep in the darkness. He hadn’t been out long
and in his dreams the man in the hat was yelling something to him from a
distance, but he couldn’t get to him. He was trapped in some dark, tar like
quicksand. The harder he fought the deeper in he was pulled. As his eyes
fluttered open he could see Tina’s head buried in pillows next to him, but the
rest of her naked and frankly perfect body was fully exposed. A pair of
handcuffs was still attached to one of her wrists, at her insistence of course.
He couldn’t believe he was going to leave like this again, but his mind was on
overdrive and that old feeling in his gut told him that the professor was
telling at least some of the truth, which meant that he had almost everything
wrong. A large clock across the room showed 6:02 and he wanted to get to the
station as soon as possible. He slid to the edge of the bed pulling his pants
back on. As he got up Tina’s voice broke the silence.

“Goin’ to catch the bad guys, hun?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Give us a kiss before you go.”

And he did. In the low light he
looked into to her eyes for what felt like the first time. They were a drowsy
blue. Leaving felt all wrong.

“Don’t get killed, ok? This is like
the most fun I’ve had in a relationship so far.”

He laughed and picked up the phone.
“Hello, wondering if you could send up breakfast for my wife, and if we can get
a late check out? Thank you.”

“Stay, ok?” he said kissing her
again. “Enjoy it.”

“Yes, sir officer,” she said
rolling herself into a ball and moaning in pleasure. “God these sheets are like
heaven,” she moaned.

“Yeah and the beds too big to roll
off of too.”

 

Grabbing his things, he slipped out
silently to the elevator, pressing his face to the glass again all the way
down. The view was stunning. Sunrise. He always loved mornings, while the world
was mostly empty still. He did his best thinking then. Patterson had to be the
key to the case. He needed information on him badly. Sullivan emerged through
the lobby and sure enough his car sat waiting for him just where he’d asked,
already running.

“Mr. Cranston, or should I call you
The Shadow, your car is ready,” the young bellhop said with a sly grin.

“Hey, you’re not old enough to
remember The Shadow,” Sullivan said incredulously.

“I just googled it. It sounded
fake.”

He handed the kid a fifty and
smiled warmly.

“And congratulations, sir.”

“Oh yeah, thanks,” he said,
realizing that the boy must have realized he’d stayed in the honeymoon suite.

He sped away in the SUV remembering
he’d left his car at Woody’s and would have to pick it up later.

 

Minutes later he pulled into the
lot of SDPD. He pulled down the mirror to see his reflection. He looked like
he’d been on a bender for days. He yawned deeply and laughed. Young girls were demanding
weren’t they? The lot was mostly empty and as he turned off the ignition, he
realized a quick nap would be a great idea. He could wait a few minutes to
inquire about Patterson. Showing up this early would set off alarms with
Tierney probably anyway, so he climbed to the back seat, which was a hell of a
lot more comfortable than that of his own car. He could still smell Tina’s
perfume, which was something citrus. He loved it. No sooner than he closed his
eyes a thud suddenly caused him to jump back in his seat. Rodriguez had her
face mashed against the window. He rolled it down with his heart still racing.

“Are you the one telling people I
hang out at gay bars, motherfucker?”

“Oh shit that guy works fast,” he
said laughing.

“I like the bit about Tierney in a
dress, but leave me out of your little fantasies, ok? I’m already getting
blowback at home over the rumors about us. What the fuck you doin’ snoozing
here homey?”

“Had a hot date last night and
figured I’d catch up on missed sleep.”

“Nice.”

“How’d the thing across town pan
out last night?”

“What thing?”

“You needed back up right, Tackett
dumped me actually.”

“What you talking about? I was off
last night too, had a hot date of my own.”

Tackett’s not with you?” he said
sharply.

“Haven’t seen him in a couple of
days actually.”

“Oh shit, get in you gotta come
with me.”

He handed Rodriguez the phone and
showed her the message.

“What the fuck is this man? Who
sent this?”

“No idea. He bailed on me and I
thought he went to help you.”

     
“Call his place.”

“I am, I am.” Sullivan’s mind was
racing through the possibilities, none of which he wanted to consider. “No
answer. Goddamnit!” he said shouting punching at the wheel.

“Keep calling. We gotta tell
Tierney, get out an APB.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Are you sure he didn’t just give
you the slip or something to go meet a chick?”

“Tackett, a chick? No way.”

“If he’s not answering at home we
should go check ourselves.”

“No, just call and tell Tierney no
one has seen him since last night at about midnight. Tell them to look at
parking lot surveillance of the station around that time and to ping his phone.
I need to see something for myself first. No APB, not yet.”

“Where we headed?”

“To the lake where they found the
body.”

 
 

***

 
 

Sullivan and Rodriguez crept slowly
through the parking lot gravel to the edge of Chippewa Lake. The name was a
misnomer since the water barely made up an acre. In the past it had been much
larger, but time had shrunk it to nothing more than a quaint spot for teenage
lovers and late night drinkers. The banks curved just around the edge of
gargantuan trees, California Sequoias. The water was utterly still in spite of
a light breeze. It was like a scene ripped out of Sullivan’s Richmond and for a
moment he felt a little homesick. Rodriguez squinted her eyes.

“Goddamn, imagine that, a public
park and no Mexicans barbecuing.”

He didn’t get the joke exactly, but
chuckled anyway.

“Why are we here? We should be back
looking for Tack, man. Tierney may go ahead with that APB. He sounded pissed
when I told him you wanted to wait.”

“We can’t look any better than they
can. I’m pretty sure the professor is innocent, but I need to see something
first.”

 

The two walked around the water’s
edge until they found the police tape. In a clearing, the spot where Samara
Patterson’s body had been found floating was visible near some reeds poking
through the water. Bugs now plopped on its surface. He bent down to survey the
sandy bank.

“These,” he said pointing “are our
divers tracks, see flat-soled water boots. But what else do you see?” he said
talking, but not looking at Rodriguez.

“Lots of footprints.”

“Yeah, but what’s missing?”

“I don’t know man, if you see
something spit it out.”

“These footprints are heading in
toward the bank
from
the water not
out into it. Someone went in from another spot, or they live at the bottom of
this lake.”

“Looks like just swimmers to me,
they’re bare feet, could be anybody’s.

“Where are the professor’s tracks?

“I don’t know, maybe he threw her
in over there?”

“Nope. Why not use this spot? The
reeds are too high everywhere else. He’d have to be Hercules to toss her in
over them. If she floated over here, she was put in the water cleanly somehow,
and this is the only spot to do it. But there are no shoe prints going into the
water, or even near its edge.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean. But how
does someone get to the water without leaving tracks.”

“They don’t.”

“Come on, Tackett’s in deep shit,
but if I’m right we won’t have to find him. He’ll find us.”

The two ran to the truck.

“Get me Tierney on the phone.”

“Ok.”

She handed him the phone.

“Bob, you gotta hold off on that
APB.”

Rodriguez could hear a garble of
complaining on the other end before Sullivan finally spoke again.

“We’ll get Tack killed if we do. I’ll
explain more later, just wait one hour more. I have one more errand to run and
then I’ll let you do whatever you think is best.” He hung up while Tierney was
still protesting.

“Where to now?”

“To the good professor’s house, in
search of treasure.”

“What kind of treasure?”

“Old shit man, very old shit.”

 

VII

 

“It’s a new day asshole and you got a visitor,” came the
voice from down the hall.

Downy had finally slept and in his
dream he was on a boat floating across an ocean. His cell was maybe the quietest
place he’d ever slept. There was no peace to be had though and in the dream
he’d been overtaken by something like a tsunami. He’d had what felt like an
eternity to watch it grow and swell off in the distance. When it finally
crashed down, he felt something like relief, but then awoke to the awareness of
where he was. It didn’t take Freud to understand what it meant.

As he lay silently on his tiny cot he wanted desperately to
believe it was his wife coming to see him, but in his heart he knew somehow it
wasn’t. The guard opened the door and sure enough sitting there calmly was Mr.
Taro, who rose, putting his hand to the glass before sitting again, picking up
the phone.

“Your message has been delivered
and I have good news.”

“Yes?”

“Your wife will be coming by today
to see you before she departs for her mothers. She was easily convinced to see
you, in spite of the slanders and deceptions of your captors.”

He noticed again how everything
Taro said had a grandiose ring to it. Who ever referred to the police as
captors?

“Thank you, thank you.”

“I’d consider it a privilege to see
her off to the airport myself, if you would feel comfortable allowing a
relative stranger to do so that is?”

“It doesn’t seem I have a lot of
friends riding to my rescue at the moment,” he said, holding his cuffs up as
evidence of the direness of the situation.

“We know little of our friends
until we are truly in need, I’m afraid. Nevertheless, your wife says many have
inquired as to your situation and expressed their deepest sympathies and faith
in your innocence.” Taro paused and leaned in. “I have been thinking of your
situation and have devised some other options as well. I will post your bail of
course, but there is another matter that I would like to propose. If you are
freed, there would be certain limitations on your movements and that could be
problematic for us.”

“Us?” Downy said wrinkling the
corners of his eyes.

“There is another way.”

“Another way to do what?”

“I must explain to you that I need
something from you that I have not yet shared. I only held it back because I
thought there would be plenty of time to present my request to you more
ceremoniously…”

“What is it?”

“You have come into possession of something
that belongs to me, something of great sentimental value to me. A golden
laurel, to be worn on the head. It was a gift; one I treasure dearly. A black
pearl is attached at the base.” Taro’s dark eyes seemed to glimmer with anger
or tears, he couldn’t tell which.

“Yes, I have it.”

“It doesn’t concern me how you came
into possession of it. I’m no bounty hunter. I just would like it back. I am
willing to pay for it, of course. It has a value in weight, as it is pure, but
it means far more to me personally than it ever could to a collector of such
curiosities.”

“Of course.”

“There is…how do you say in
English, a rub?”

“Ok.”

“Someone has taken it from your
home.”

“Can I ask how you know this?”

“Sadly, money loosens the tongues
of even those who take a sworn oath to the law. Where I come from an oath is
seen as a treacherous thing for this very reason.”

“Ok, but how can I help you from
here?”

Taro leaned in and locked eyes. He
shifted in his seat. “I can arrange, by surreptitious means of course, for you to
leave here this very night and return unnoticed by morning. There is no chance
you will be discovered in fact, but you must follow what I tell you to the
letter.”

“That seems dangerous and stupid.”

“It is, but your reward is that I
can guarantee your release and freedom from these charges. I can clear your
name and I will. That is a promise. But we must do it tonight and we must be
together. I’m sorry I can’t say more, but I will tell you everything very
soon.”

“You’ll have to forgive me that
even given my circumstances this sounds like a deal with the devil.”

“Ahh yes, that which sounds too
good to be true. You’re a wise man, professor.”

“You can call me Noah.”

“Thank you. I will, Noah. I don’t
believe in the devil personally, but I do believe in helping the innocent. I
would see justice done.”

Downy paused and looked around the
room. He wanted out of course, but not like this; something felt off.

“How do I know you will still post
my bail if I leave with you?”

“You don’t, but let me tell you I
have never once knowingly deceived an honest man, and I suspect you are just
such a person. You have my word. I can offer nothing more.”

“Ok, how do we get out?”

“Tonight when the lights go out I
need you to be in your cell, undressed

completely,
fully
undressed. Also, skip dining this evening, have no food. It is most important
that your stomach is empty.”
“What?”

“It sounds mad I’m sure, but there
will be little time. Arrange your clothing neatly near your bed so that when
you return you can put it back on quickly.”

“What are you going to break down
the walls?” he said cynically.

“There will be no mess and no
tearing down any walls. There will be a time to discuss what you see with me
this evening, but that time is not now. You can ask no questions until then. I
will tell you everything you need to know, but when and only when you need to
know it.”

“Are you asking me to do something
illegal, I mean beyond breaking out of jail?”

“Oh yes, yes indeed. But there is no
law that can stop us, nor that we shall ever face, not here in any case.”

He sat back in his chair, looking
over his shoulder at the guard who waited for him in hallway. “What if I say
no?”

Taro sat up straight. “Then I will
post your bail tomorrow and do what I can to help you anyway, but I assure you
this is both the most expedient way and the only way I can guarantee your name
will be fully cleared. A man with a family and career like yours must surely
want to be fully exonerated in such matters as these.” Taro put his hand to
glass and smiled warmly. “You’ve made the right decision.”

“I haven’t said yes.”

“You’re too smart to say no,
Professor Downy. Be ready when I arrive and remember: no food, no clothes, and
no questions.”

BOOK: Saboteur: A Novel
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