Superbia 2 (3 page)

The
front door opened and Frank bent down to press his face against the storm door’s glass, “Hello Miss Penelope.”

She cupped her hands around her eyes and pressed against the
door, making it fog up with her breath.  “Hullo, Mr. Frank.”

“Can I come in
, Miss Penelope?”

“Yes you can, Mr. Frank.”

Danni Ajax came down the steps and waved her daughter away from the door.  “Back up, back up.”  She unlocked the storm door and said, “Thanks for coming, Frank.  I really appreciate it.”

“What happened?”

“He got in a fight with an older boy at school.  They were both suspended, but the school has a zero tolerance policy and now he might get kicked out of the marching band.”

“What was
he fighting about?”

D
anni looked down at her daughter and stroked the girl’s hair.  “Apparently the other boy had dealings with you-know-who and said something to Jason during lunch.”

“
Okay.  I’ll go talk to him.”  Frank headed up the stairs and knocked on the first closed door he came to.  “You okay in there, buddy?  It’s Frank.  Can I come in?” 

There was no answer.  Frank twisted the knob and opened the door
just enough to peek in.  “Everybody decent in here?” he said.

“
Yeah.  Hi,” Jason said.  The kid’s face was swollen and red, either from crying or from the fight.  There was an impressive shiner developing over his right eye. 

Frank tilted his face up
to admire the black eye.  “That’s a beauty.  Was it a jab or a left cross?”

Jason shrugged
, “All I know is it hurt.  But I kicked him right in the nuts.”

“
You did?”  Frank frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed.  “Why did you do that?”

“I was standing in the lunch line and this big eleventh-grader started shouting at me that my dad was a pussy.  Everybody was looking at me.  I tried to pretend like I didn’t hear him, but he wouldn’t stop.” 

Frank chuckled, “Your dad was no pussy.” 

“I know
.  That’s what my mom said, and that’s why I should have ignored it.”

“So
did you kick him in the nuts when he called your dad that?”

“
No.  I did it when he said he was glad my dad was dead.”

“Jesus,” Frank whispered.  “What
a little shit bag.  What was this kid’s name?”

“Sal something.”

“
Mormo?
” Frank said.  “You’re kidding me.”

“My mom said I
still should have ignored it.  She said I’m not allowed to fight.”  Jason’s voice cracked, “And now they’re going to throw me out of band.”

Frank bent over and picked up the brass trombone on Jason’s floor.  He ran his fingers along its length and said, “I never did learn how to play an instrument.”  He flipped the lever near the mouthpiece a few times and
worked it with the tip of his finger.  “What’s this do?”

“It’s the spit valve.”

“Yuck!” Frank said, wiping his hands on his pants as both of them laughed.  He laid the instrument on the bed and said, “Look, your mom is right.  Fighting is stupid.  It’s wrong.  Playing music?  That’s good.  You understand me?”

“Okay,” Jason said.
  “I’m sorry.”  

Frank cleared his throat and leaned closer to the boy’s ear, “But, there is a time and place for everything.  Sometimes, you will meet people who are big and dumb, and they will try to hurt you.  They won’t take no for
an answer.  You can’t talk to them, you can’t reason with them, and they won’t go away.  If that happens, and you don’t have any other choice, you know what you do?”

Jason was silent. 

“You gouge that asshole’s eyes out.  Rip his ears off.  Bite his fingers.  Hit him with a crowbar.  Whatever you need to do to end it, you do it, but only when it’s necessary.  Okay?”

“Okay,” Jason said. 

Frank put his arm around the boy’s shoulders and pulled him close.  “And don’t worry about the band thing.  They’ll let you back in.  If they don’t, get a guitar and start a rock group.  Those guys get all the chicks.”

***

They’re animals.  That’s why they always gather together in packs.  Gibbering hyenas with cigarettes who hover around playgrounds.  Cackling simians in low-slung blue jeans with a pair of sweatpants pulled over them.  They gathered around the benches of a basketball court that had rusted chain nets and swing sets with broken seats. 

They picked up Frank’s scent as he entered their territory, seeing his unmarked police car coming down the street.  They smiled and pointed and laughed at him, until he slammed on the brakes directly in front of them. 

Nobody moved.  Frank slammed his door shut and came through the group toward its center, using the tip of his pointed finger to part them.  He zeroed in on the grinning one.  The one with the flat baseball hat brim and the original, never-peeled silver advertising sticker.  “You.”

Sal Mormo pointed at himself and said, “Me?  Take that
bullshit down the road, man.  I ain’t tryin’ to hear it.”

Frank snatched Sal by his tee shirt collar and yanked him
off the bench.  “You remember me?”  Sal tried peeling Frank’s fingers away and Frank smacked his hands.  “Touch me again and I’ll break every bone in your face.” 

“Get off of me
!”

He shoved
Sal into the fence.  “You got something to say about one of our fallen officers?  Say it now.  Say it to my fucking face, you little piece of shit.”

Sal squirmed, eyes flicking back and forth from
the group of his friends as they crowded around them to Frank’s glare.  “I didn’t say nothing to that kid.  He just went crazy and attacked me so I decked him.”

A light flickered
from the group and Frank cast his eyes sideways just enough to see that someone was recording them with their cellphone.  Frank raised his voice, “You going to cry again, Sal?  Just like the last time when we had you in, after you raped that little girl Li-li and she took her own life?”

“I told you she thought she was my girlfriend!”

“She was a child, Sal!  The report is on file at my station!  Her suicide letter is an open record that anyone can come see.  You and her brother raped her.  Remember that?  And you cried in your mama’s arms and shit your pants in my police station like the little sissy you really are.  I’ve got the whole thing on video.” 

“
Whoa.  That’s fucked up,” the kid holding the camera said. 

Frank
turned and looked at the camera, eyebrows raised in surprise.  “Were you
recording
that?  Oh no.  I hope you don’t put it on YouTube.  That would be terrible.” 

The kid shut the camera off and started playing with his phone to check the recording.  “Wait!” Sal shrieked. 

Frank leaned close to Sal’s ear, “Go near one of my cops’ families again and see what happens.”

***

Claude Erinnyes had more plaques than wall space behind his desk.  The largest was engraved
To Secretary Claudius Erinnyes, In Recognition of His Service to the Pennsylvania Police Chiefs Association. 
Next to that, a framed certificate thanking him for his decades of public service from the Governor of the Commonwealth.  Photographs of him standing with politicians, public officials, and newscasters appeared in between the plaques. 
   
                                    

The intercom light flashed on his desk.  “Chief, are you in your office?”

“What is it?”

“You have a visitor.”

“I’m not expecting anyone.”

“It’s an attorney.  He says he represents Aprille Macariah and he would like to speak with you.”

Erinnyes chuckled and said, “Oh really?  Send him back, then.”  He buttoned his collar and leaned back in his chair, folding his hand across his belly as a young dark-skinned man wearing a suit knocked on the door of his office.  “Enter.”

“Chief Erinnyes? 
Marcus Horatio.  Thank you for seeing me.”

Erinnyes did not move. 

“Do you mind if I come in and sit down?” Marcus said. 

“You may sit, but if you are here to discuss a former police officer with me, I warn you it is going to be a short conversation.”

“Former?” Marcus said.  He looked down at his notes and said, “Was she terminated?”

“She hasn’t bothered showing up for work in almost two years.  Whatever is left is sheer formality.”

Marcus pushed the thin, wire-rimmed glasses back up on his nose and said, “With all due respect, Chief, Officer Macariah was on extended medical leave.  She had a special arrangement with Chief Midas, and now that her treatment is completed she is ready to return.”

Erinnyes leaned forward and said, “Yes, let’s talk about that
illness
for a moment.  What exactly was the nature of it again?”

“I couldn’t say, sir.”

“I have spent the past year trying to unstick this police department from the godawful mess it was in when I took over.  She will never return to work here, even if I have to drag her in front of a public supervisor’s meeting to discuss her leave of absence.”

Marcus
crossed his legs and propped his elbows on the armrests of his chair while the Chief spoke.  When he replied, his voice was smooth and calm.  “How many zeros would you like to put on my check, Chief?  You violate that young woman’s right to privacy and I’ll let you start counting at six.  I won’t stop until this police department has to carry slingshots because you can’t afford bullets.”  Marcus smiled and said, “It can get worse for you real quick.  Take your little all-white, all-male police department, Claude.  I don’t think you want me anywhere near this.”  Marcus snapped his business card out of his shirt pocket and laid it on the Chief’s desk.  “I’ll be expecting your call telling me when my client can start.”

Erinnyes picked up the card as
Marcus stood up.  He crushed the card in his pudgy hand and tossed it over his shoulder at the wastebasket.  Marcus chuckled and said, “You’ll want to dig that out of there.  If the phone call I got this morning is any indication, I’ll be back here real soon.”

“
And what phone call would that be?”

“MALDEF
retained my services this morning regarding your department’s hiring practices.” 

“Who the hell is Maldef
?”

“It’s not a
who
, it’s a
what
.  Being that we’re such good friends now I can tell you that they are a well-funded organization with heavy political clout that specializes in defending the rights of a certain segment of the population.  Equal employment rights is a particular favorite of theirs.”

Erinnyes leaned back in his chair and said, “Are these people hiring you to represent
Reynaldo Francisco?”

Marcus
pressed his hand against chest and feigned shock, “Chief Erinnyes, it would be unprofessional of me to comment on something like that.  I was just letting you know that you and I will be real
bueno
amigos
in the near future, so I think you’d better save that card.”

***

The restaurant’s front door opened and Frank immediately stuck his hand in the air, waving until Marcus saw him and nodded.  Marcus stopped mid-stride, eyes popping at the sight of the blonde sitting next to Frank.  “Hello, hello,” he said.  He picked up her hand in his and covered it with his other hand.  “Please tell me you are not Mrs. O’Ryan.”

“She’s not,” Frank said, pulling Aprille’s hand away from
Marcus’s grip.  “She’s your client, smooth operator.”

“Not officially,”
Marcus said, flashing a bright smile at her.  “Although that’s not to say I am not owed some sort of remuneration for my services.”

“Well now,” Aprille said.  “That all depends on how good the service you give is.”

“I give the
best
service.”

“All right, all right, before I gag,” Frank said.  “What happened?”

“I went to see the fat man and made him jiggle a little.  I even managed to throw something in for that Francisco kid you told me about.”  Marcus held up his hand for the waiter and flagged him over.  

“Good,” Frank said.  He looked down at his soda and shook the ice cubes around inside of it, taking a moment to absorb everything while
Marcus ordered his drink.  “Now we just wait and see what stuck.”

“You two want to do a shot?  I need one after that.”

“I’m fine,” Aprille said.

“We’re both fine,” Frank added quickly.