Good Cop Bad Cop (A James Harris Series Book 1) Page 7

  The light suddenly went out and Emily found herself cast in pitch darkness. Against her will, she let out a short scream. She heard the bolts on the door being manipulated and then the door swung outward. A small amount of light poured through the opening and cast a silhouette over the figure of a man.

  “Do not move.”

  “Please,” she begged, lying motionless on the floor. “No more.”

  Emily heard a flutter and saw what looked like a legal sized notepad hit the cement and slide against the far wall.

  “Get against the wall but remain seated.”

  “Please...”she cried, remaining in a fetal position on the floor. She pulled the small blanket to cover herself as best she could.

  “Get against the wall. You have ten seconds.”

  Emily placed both of her hands against the cement and pushed herself back. The blanket fell to the side and she quickly snatched it with her right hand and tried again to cover herself.

  “Drop the blanket.”

  Emily sobbed. Slowly, she released her grip until the thin cloth fell to the ground. She had never felt this naked.

  “Five seconds.”

  She surprised herself by moving quickly and when she was against the wall she pushed up to a sitting position and brought both knees against her chest. She wrapped her arms around her knees and closed her ankles tight trying to block his view of her. Unable to face the man she stared down and to the right side of her cell.

  “Look at me.”

  She shook her head.

  “Look at me.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “I said look at me,” the man repeated.

  “If I know what you look like then you will kill me!” She screamed.

  The sudden outburst startled even her and she cringed, waiting for retribution.

  After a slight pause the man began to chuckle. At first it came softly, as a snigger, and then it built until the man was genuinely laughing.

  Mixed with the horror of her obscene situation it was so out of place, so utterly macabre, that it simply caused Emily to snap. She began screaming from a place she’d never known existed. It came from down deep, not just within her body but from the very depths of her soul. It was her humanity needing to be heard, to cry out against this evil. To release all of the pent up fear and anxiety she had silently swallowed these past days.

  Emily no longer averted her eyes. Mouth agape, she finally looked into the face of her captor. She held the sides of her head and she screamed. Her eyes, desperate and non-blinking, locked with his, which were still alight with pleasure. She saw the man who was responsible for her abduction, the man who had raped her, the man who had beaten and caged her like an animal. She stared into his dark, soulless eyes and she screamed as she felt her sanity slipping away.

  Good Cop Bad Cop

  18

  Harris sat on one of the real log benches that lined the sidewalk of the Shakespeare Garden which was located near the middle of Central Park. He’d visited the park many times as a child but it had been years since he’d been back. It was peaceful place and it seemed ironic to him that such a tranquil spot was located so close to the drug dealers and murderers who roamed the city. He wondered why he’d never brought Danny or Bonnie here.

  Harris heard approaching footsteps and knew before he even looked that this was who he was waiting for. People come to the park in sneakers or sandals, not high heels and wingtips. Those made a distinctly different noise.

  He looked up and saw the district attorney flanked by two large, and very serious looking, men. He stood as they approached him.

  “Good afternoon, Lieutenant Harris,” she spoke, extending her hand.

  “Good afternoon, ma’am,” he replied, taking her hand in a brief exchange.

  “Leave us,” she spoke to the two bodyguards. The men split, one going left, the other right. They both took spots roughly thirty feet from their boss and turned their backs to scan the perimeter.

  “Please sit,” she spoke to Harris, gesturing to the bench with an open palm.

  Harris sat as did the district attorney. The two faced each other.

  “Thank you for meeting with me, Lieutenant Harris.”

  “Please call me Jim, ma’am.”

  “Of course,” she replied offering a thin lipped smile. “And please call me Sylvia,”

  “That’s a bit familiar, ma’am. You are the district attorney.”

  “I understand. But what I’m about to discuss with you is extremely off the record. I would prefer to remove all formalities.”

  “Well, in that case, what can I do for you, Sylvia?”

  “You must have heard.”

  Harris shifted slightly on the bench. He searched the district attorney’s face for any sign of hostility. Of course, most of the police force knew about the kidnapping. Even though there was a strict gag order, word got around. He decided not to pretend with her.

  “Yes, ma’am. I am unbelievably sorry. I pray for your daughter’s safe return.”

  “Thank you. We have been doing quite a bit of praying ourselves.”

  “I would imagine. Are there any leads?”

  “Nobody has shit,” she said bluntly. “And that is exactly why I asked for this meeting. I want you involved in the case”

  “Me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well Sylvia,” Harris said slowly. “You must know that I’ve been suspended. Plus, the commissioner isn’t exactly a fan of mine. He would never allow me to investigate this case.”

  “Of course I know. That has been taken care of. And the commissioner will do whatever I tell him to do.”

  “I don’t understand. There are a lot of good men on the force, men with much more experience handling these matters.”

  “There are no men like you.”

  “Meaning what?”

  The district attorney paused. She shot Harris a look that suggested she knew something and would not be played.

  “Let’s not play games, Jim. You know exactly what I mean.”

  “Well perhaps you will be good enough to spell it out for me,” Harris spoke defensively. “Because I’m starting to feel as if you’re insinuating something.”

  “Please don’t be insulted. While the commissioner may not be an admirer of yours, I am. There are damn few men left like you. Men of action. Men who do what it takes to get results.”

  “You speak as if you think you know me.”

  “I do know you, Lt. Harris. I’ve read your jacket cover to cover. I’ve even read your military citations.”

  “Okay. But getting back to the original point, what do you want from me?”

  “Simple. Find my girl. Bring her home to me.”

  “Just like that?” Harris asked. He looked at her incredulously. “As if I’m suddenly able to just make things happen?”

  “I’m not naïve, Jim. I understand that there are no guarantees. But I want you to do what you do. I want you to do things your way. Just find my Emily.”

  Harris looked quickly from side to side. He leaned forward and spoke in a hushed tone.

  “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? Ma’am, I’m a police officer, not a mercenary.”

  “Jim, I am not going to shed any tears for whatever low life’s you have to wade through to get answers. I’ve got two of NYPD’s finest and two top notch Federal assholes who don’t seem capable of finding the Empire State Building with a road map. If I go by the status quo I will never see my baby again.”

  “How isolated will I be? Who else is going to know about this little covert operation?”

  “Commissioner Gerland already knows as does Deputy Commissioner Dinkins. Your Captain Shannon is being briefed as we speak.”

  “Dinkins?! He must be throwing a fit.”

  “Who gives a shit about that pencil pushing, brown noser?”

  Harris laughed out loud and then caught himself. “Sorry. It’s just that I feel the same way about the man.”

&
nbsp; “No need to apologize. And I will give you an iron clad promise. You bring my girl home and you will never be bothered by that asshole again. These charges will disappear.”

  “Can I get that in writing?”

  “You don’t need it in writing and if you’re the man I think you are, I don’t even have to offer it to you. I know you will do the right thing and you will do it because it’s the right thing.”

  “You assume a lot about me.”

  “I know people. I know what drives a man like you. You are a warrior and you’re on the right side. I’m proud to have a man like you on the force and I’m disgusted that men like Dinkins have authority over you.”

  “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

  “You bring my Emily home to me and you will also be a captain before that day is over.”

  “I’ll pass on that, ma’am. It would mean riding a desk.”

  “Whatever you want. Find her and you can write your own ticket.”

  “I will do my best, Sylvia.” Harris took her hands in his and squeezed. “I will do everything possible.”

  Sylvia looked into his eyes and saw the grim determination. She immediately felt good about this decision. She returned the grasp and stood to face him.

  “Let me know if you need anything at all, Jim.

  “Just keep that asshole off my back and out of my way.”

  “Lt. Harris, if Dinkins even looks at you the wrong way I want you to let me know.”

  “Done,” Harris said as he stood.

  “Captain Shannon will have the dossier with everything that’s already been done. It shouldn’t take you long to read, there’s really nothing.”

  “Okay. But Sylvia,” Harris stared directly into her eyes to emphasize his next statement. “If I do this my way, I do it my way. No half measures, no second guessing.”

  Sylvia grasped his shoulders with both hands and squared her jaw. “That’s exactly what I’m counting on.” She turned to leave but paused as if contemplating a thought. She suddenly reached into her purse and took out a small manila envelope. She handed it to Harris.

  “What’s this?” He asked.

  “Extra motivation,” she replied.

  “Ma’am, I don’t need any -“

  “It’s not money,” she interrupted. “Just promise me that you will use extreme discretion.”

  Harris took the envelope and nodded.

  The district attorney smiled sadly at him. With that she turned and walked back the way she had approached, her two bodyguards falling in behind her.

  Harris watched her back as she left. He felt the extreme sorrow which poured from the woman. Her eyes had clouded over when she handed him the envelope. Harris instinctively knew that she had brought this package unsure of whether she’d actually give it to him. He knew that she had decided at the last moment to hand it off. It was a sign of trust. He opened the envelope. Inside was a DVD.

  Good Cop Bad Cop

  19

  The room was dark save for the solitary light bulb which hung overhead. A lone man sat at a crude, wooden work bench. On the table were several bits and pieces of wire, metal, nails and other various odds and ends. There was also a black box roughly the size of a toaster oven. The box had three dials below needled meters and an on/off switch. Four rubber coated cables, such as you’d see running into a television, ran from the back of the machine as did a plug which was connected to an extension cord. The extension cord trailed off into the darkness of the room. The rubber cables snaked around the box and lay coiled on the table in front of the man. The end of each cable was stripped free of the rubber protection and naked copper wires were visible. The man worked patiently, fashioning a lengthy, lone strand of silver wire through the inside of a leather cuff. It was the kind of cuff that would go around a mental patients wrist as a restraint. The man did not smile, nor did he frown. His face was stoic and resolved. And his eyes were dark as he performed his task.

  Having weaved the silver wire through the inside of the leather cuff, the man took the remaining wire and spooled it around the bare copper ends of the cable which was plugged into the back of the machine. He twisted wire connectors into place and tugged gently on both ends to make sure they were secure. He then took the remaining wire from the other side of the cuff and repeated the process. Taking a second leather cuff, he duplicated the entire procedure.

  The man rose and took a few steps to the other side of the room. He returned pulling a solid wooden chair. The chair had crudely built armrests and he took one of the cuffs and laid it flat against the arm of the chair. Grabbing a hammer and nail from the table he pounded the cuff into the wooden arm. He used a second nail and when finished, the middle of the cuff was securely in place. The ends of the leather restraint hung to the sides. On each were a buckle and a clasp. The man then repeated the process, securing the remaining cuff onto the chairs other arm. There were two other cuffs that did not have wire attached to them. These he hammered into the legs of the homemade chair just above the ground where a person’s ankles would be.

  The man turned the machine on and adjusted one of the three dials. Clipping one of the wires from the box onto the cuff, he saw the meters needle jumped into the red.

  Satisfied, he finally smiled. He shut off the machine and looked past it to a framed photograph at the end of the work bench. It was a family picture of the Blumquist’s.

  Good Cop Bad Cop

  20

  “This is total and utter bullshit, Mathew!” Deputy Commissioner Dinkins yelled, as he stood behind a high leather chair facing the police Commissioner’s desk. He grasped the back of the chair in a white knuckled grip.

  “No shit, Alan. But I take orders just like you,” Commissioner Gerland answered.

  “But you don’t have to take this one! We can order a review board!”

  “A review board?” Commissioner Gerland asked incredulously. “Why don’t I just tell her to fuck off?”

  “Come on, Mathew,” Dinkins spit. “Grow a pair of balls.”

  Commissioner Gerland shot out of his chair and slammed his palms on the desk, his face a violent shade of red.

  “Just who in the hell do you think you’re talking to?!” He yelled. “I don’t give a shit how long we’ve known each other, Deputy Commissioner! You will show me the respect I’ve earned!”

  Dinkins turned and looked out the office window. He knew he’d overstepped his boundaries. He cast his eyes to the carpet and pursed his lips. After a moment, he turned back to face his boss.

  “I’m sorry,” he spoke sincerely. “That was way out of line and I apologize.”

  Commissioner Gerland glared at him a moment longer and then sat back down.

  “I know how much you want this son of a bitch. I want him too.”

  “He belongs in jail, not on the force.”

  “I know and his time will come. Blumquist is just grasping at straws. She’s desperate.”

  Dinkins walked away from the windows and plopped into a leather chair. Having vented, he resigned himself to the fact that this was going to happen. He sighed and let out a deep breath.

  “We had him. We were this close.”

  “We’ve still got him. This will blow over and the D.A. will cut him loose so fast he won’t know what hit him.”

  “Let’s hope.”

  The Commissioner stared across his desk at the man. He debated inwardly on whether or not to broach the subject. He finally spoke.

  “I’ve got to ask you, Alan. Why do you hate this guy so much? I know he crosses the line. I get that. We all know about the famous pedophile case. But you seem to have a personal grudge against him.”

  “You want to know why?” Dinkins answered his voice now steady and even. “It’s not just the fact that he does whatever the fuck he wants. It’s not even the fact that he almost certainly shot that kidnapping suspect, killed him in cold blood. No, what really bothers me is how he struts around the precinct like he owns the place. He has this attitud
e that suggests he’s better than everybody else.”

  Gerland sat silent, listening intently.

  “He has this way of making you feel small. You know?”

  The Commissioner narrowed his eyes and cocked his head slightly.

  “Well not small,” Dinkins quickly corrected himself. “But insignificant. Like the chain of command means nothing to him.”

  “I get it,” the Commissioner answered. “But you have to admire his arrest and conviction record.”

  “Which every other cop would have as well if they didn’t have to follow rules.”

  Commissioner Gerland smiled. “I get it, and we’re on the same page. But let’s not forget the bigger picture here.”

  “Which is?”

  “Why, getting the D.A.’s daughter back of course.”

  “Of course,” Dinkins shook his head with embarrassment. “Of course.”

  “She’s meeting with him this afternoon. After that I’m going to have a brief conversation with him myself. I’ll let that son of a bitch know that this is a very temporary reinstatement and that any illegal activities he might engage in during the hunt for Emily Blumquist will be added to his pending charges.”

  “Thanks, Matthew.” Dinkins rose from his chair. He extended a hand across the desk and the commissioner shook it. With that, Dinkins turned and left the office.

  Commissioner Gerland sat in silence for several moments. He took a deep breath and then picked up the phone.

  “Yeah, Grace. Have somebody track down Lieutenant James Harris. Tell him that after his meeting with the D.A. I need to see him here in my office immediately.”

  Good Cop Bad Cop

  21

  The city editor pored over a story that he had been given by a senior reporter. He slashed through certain points with a red, felt tipped pen and highlighted others. In between corrections he tapped the pen against the side of his desk. It was the only sound in the room.

  Christi sat patiently, hands folded in her lap and stared vacantly out the window overlooking 8th Avenue and West 31st Street. She could see Penn Station and wished to God that she could just get up, leave the office and board a train heading to anywhere. She had informed her boss of her covert meeting with Harris at the gym and was now awaiting a royal ass chewing for following an unapproved lead. Other reporters can follow whatever hunch they get, she fumed inwardly, but I still have to ask the teacher for permission. And to top it off, as she continued her thought process, now I have to sit here like a good girl while Carl reads somebody else’s story. Why the hell couldn’t he have called me in when he was actually ready to speak to me? What a freaking power play.