Cahill

I could hear the din from the bar as I exited my SUV and I was still almost a block away. What a shame! I knew from long experience that would change as soon as my foot crossed the threshold. I tend to have that effect on people. I’m six feet six inches tall and I weigh an even 250 pounds—all of it broad shouldered muscle. My Body Mass Index at my last physical was less than four percent. My light brown hair is styled exactly the way it’s been for the past fifteen years—ever since I first joined the Navy. Sure enough, no sooner had I taken my first step into the bar than the noise died. When I turned left and stepped up to the bar the people there couldn’t back away fast enough. I took a stool in the middle of the empty space and sat down, waiting for the bartender to approach. “I’m not looking for any trouble.” “Good…neither am I. Give me a ginger ale.” He reached under the bar for a glass and some ice. Twenty seconds later he slid the glass in my direction. I pulled a fiver from my pocket and dropped it on the bar. He ignored it and walked away to draw a few beers and pour some wine. It looked to me like this was a pretty cheap crowd. Checking up and down the bar all I could see were longnecks and drafts. I reached into the lower left pocket of my cargo pants. Like almost everything else I was wearing they were a true deep navy blue. My heavy shoes were black as was my wide belt. My belt said as much about me as the bold white lettering across my chest. Just below the American flag over my heart were the letters that were my life—U. S. MARSHAL. On my right hip was my nickel plated .44 Magnum Colt Python, just behind two speed loaders in addition to the twenty-four rounds on the belt. On my left hip was my ASP Talon baton—every bit as deadly a weapon in my hands as the revolver. A pouch at the back of my right hip held my stainless steel handcuffs and its partner on the opposite side held my radio—my link to my backup team. I placed the photo flat on the bar as the bartender returned to me. “I’ll have another,” I said in a loud voice, continuing so I wouldn’t be overheard. “Don’t pick it up and don’t make a production of looking at it. I’ve been told that he comes here a lot. Is he here tonight? If he is and he escapes because you’ve given me away I’ll see to it that you’re arrested for obstruction of justice.” He gulped a few times but did as he was told, nodding slightly in response. I continued almost at a whisper. “If my nose is pointing to twelve o’clock, my right ear to three, the back of my head to six, and my left ear to nine, tell me where he is. Again, don’t point or do anything obvious and we’ll be fine.” He pretended to wipe the bar as he whispered, “About 4:30 with his back to you.” I picked up the reflection in the mirror then asked, “Red shirt with black and white stripes, looking away from me?” He nodded again. Now, in my normal tone of voice I asked, “Where’s the men’s room?”

Fredrick_Udele · Fantasie

Zu wenig Bewertungen

69 Chs

CHAPTER 26

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We spent the next morning really showing the city to Daryl. This was more than a sightseeing trip. As a police officer, knowledge of the city, its neighborhoods, and streets was essential, although with GPS it wasn't as critical as it was twenty years ago. Lucy and I had driven Daryl and Max for almost three hours when Daryl commented, "I can see why you like it here, Matt. It's a beautiful small city and all the people I've met so far seem to be friendly. Lucy, what do we do about uniforms?"

I interrupted because I'd had a few ideas that I had researched at home and with Chief Paul McCormick by phone. "Lucy, unless I'm mistaken the police force currently buys uniforms for the men and they are responsible for their care. Is that right?"

"Yes, that's the way it's always been, why?"

"I did a little research at home and also with my friend Paul McCormick, the chief of police in Memphis. I think we could do better with a uniform rental company. Each man would get a week's supply and the uniforms would be washed and pressed and the process repeated every week. They would be responsible for any repairs and replacements. Paul has told me that they save more than $17,000 a year by leasing. We wouldn't save as much, but there would be some and there's also the benefit of having the police look more professional. I'd also like to make some uniform changes.

"I don't like brown people because of the police. It reminds people of Hitler's storm troopers and many black people find it offensive."

"Is that true, Daryl?"

"It is, Lucy. Brown uniforms are usually worn by white supremacists like the Neo-Nazis."

"I prefer blue for police with white shirts for the officers and station personnel and I'd like to introduce tee shirts in hot weather and do away with the ties."

"Why?"

"Police should always use clip-on ties because they can be seriously injured or even killed if a perpetrator pulls on it. Want to bet that some of ours use a regular tie? I know from the arrest of the two in the diner that some of their procedures are weak. Catch this, Daryl; one of the city cops was going to remove my handcuffs and then replace them with his."

I could see the disbelieving expression on his face in the rearview mirror before he even spoke. "You have got to be kidding! Where the hell did he get his training?"

"You're assuming that he even had training. Things have been so lax here and so political that I'll bet at least half a dozen have no training because they're connected."

"I'd never take that bet, Matt, because I know too well that you're right," Lucy replied. "Haynes' son is one example and he has a buddy who's in the same boat." I could see her agitation so I reached across the console to hold her hand.

"I think I'll stop at George's for a little chat. You'll find this interesting, Daryl." I made the turn at the corner and found a parking spot almost immediately. George welcomed us at the door, even Max. I introduced Daryl as a new lieutenant and George smiled. He clearly knew the score.

"I think the police should have been integrated decades ago and most of the community agrees." He made one phone call and a few minutes later we had nine of his friends to speak with us. I knew that Daryl would listen carefully. He'd had the same training in the Navy and Marshals Service that I'd had. I was also pleased that Lucy paid very close attention. We stayed for almost an hour before taking leave for lunch. Daryl assured George that he'd be back to do some shopping when he had time. Of course, we went to the diner. Lucy and I sat together and Max climbed up onto the other bench after Daryl was seated. That proved to be a problem because he was hit repeatedly by Max's tail when two young friends came over to pet him. I moved him to the floor, telling him to sit.

After we had ordered, I asked Lucy, "How did Carl Haynes become chairman of the council when it appears that most of the others disagree with his views?"

"He was the only one who wanted the job. In retrospect, I think I should have taken it, but we'll have another election in November. He and two others are up for reelection then we'll select a chairperson in January at our organizational meeting." Mentioning Haynes reminded me that I wanted to phone Julia Adams, the State Attorney, for an update. After lunch we drove to the house that Daryl would be using. It was empty so he would need his furniture and that was due to be delivered tomorrow morning.

The next week was routine. Well, it was probably routine for Daryl and me, but it was a totally new experience for Lucy. The city's house where Daryl was living was in sound condition but was in desperate need of sprucing up. So Lucy joined us for what we learned was her first visit to Home Depot for paint, brushes, and some accessories. It took us six days, but we were able to paint the entire living and dining rooms, as well as the kitchen and Daryl's bedroom. I was surprised to learn that Lucy actually had clothes suitable for painting—tee shirts with holes in the seams and jeans that had seen better days. Later I learned that she had bought them from one of the maids. I laughed at her embarrassment, but then I kissed her and all was well between us.

Lucy turned out to be a great worker, concentrating on the trim while Daryl and I tackled the large areas of the walls and ceilings with rollers. I also learned how cute she looked with a dab of paint on the tip of her delicate nose. As hard as we worked during the day, that was just how hard we played in the shower and after dinner in bed.

The week was broken up briefly by a phone call from Julia Adams. She asked if I wanted to be a part of the surveillance team at the drug buy between Parker's roommate and Jeremy Haynes. It sounded like a good idea, but I turned her down almost immediately. "We had a bit of a run-in at a coffee shop here a few weeks ago. I'm afraid that if he saw me your entire sting would be compromised." She did agree and told me that she would keep me up to speed on the investigation.

I thought everything was going well several weeks later—roughly a week before I would take over as Chief—so I used a morning when Lucy had an appointment at the beauty salon to drive to the county seat to transfer my license and registration from North Carolina to Tennessee. I had all of the identification required by the state and I had studied the DMV manual online, even taking several of the practice exams.

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