Kop (23 page)

Gilkyson fell for it and took a swift glance at the burned-out hole in Zorno’s head then jerked away.

Paul mocked him with a devilish grin. “He killed the kid to protect himself from prosecution. That’s when Juno and Maggie arrived and tried to arrest him, but he resisted and they had to use deadly force.”

Paul led Gilkyson out for some fresh air before the lawyer blew his dinner all over our crime scene. The door closed behind them before Paul returned with a take-charge attitude. “I only have a minute before Gilkyson comes back in. Here’s the plan: I’m going to tell him the Vlotsky case is closed. Let him think we don’t suspect anything. I’ll put Maggie’s picture out with the story. We’ll get her introduced to the public as the hero cop that brought down a serial. Getting her image built up now will only help if we end up going against the mayor publicly with her as the front man. Sound good?”

“What if he asks how Zorno knew about our witness?”

“How ’bout this? I’ll tell him it’s irrelevant. We already have our killer, so case closed. When I tell him that, he’ll just assume
we don’t want to dig into it because we’re trying to cover for a bad cop who leaked the info on the kid to Zorno. No harm done.”

I agreed. Gilkyson already knew we were corrupt. What was one more violation on his list of unproved accusations? I nodded to Paul who slipped out.

I stewed while Abdul worked, silent tension between us. He moved up to the head wound but stopped at Zorno’s harelip. “I guess we know what his lip fixation was about.”

“I guess we do.”

Maggie appeared at the door. “Is the boys’ club over yet, or do I need to wait outside?”

“Maggie, we need to talk.”

We were standing in an open area next to Pedro’s apartment building—nobody near enough to eavesdrop. Most of the curiosity seekers had moved on. Only a few die-hards still milled around, waiting for the bodies to be brought out.

A light breeze ruffled the scratchy weeds that stretched up to our thighs. Thousands of nocturnal insects chirped all around us, their song blending together into an arrhythmic drone. A mosquito cloud stayed bug-spray distance from our heads. I looked up at the sky; I spotted the Orbital, the brightest star in the heavens.

Maggie spoke abruptly. “What did you talk about in there?” The dark night sky hid her face from me. I couldn’t see the anger I knew was written there.

“Here’s the way it is, Maggie. You have to decide how committed you are to solving this case.”

“I just killed a man and caused the death of a boy. I think I’m a little committed now, don’t you?”

“Zorno killed that kid, Maggie. You can’t let yourself get all torn up over it. We both made mistakes, but we’re not responsible
for the kid’s death. Our hearts were in the right place—you understand me? You never intended any harm toward Pedro. Your conscience is clear.”

“But—”

“Stop blaming yourself and put the blame where it belongs—on Zorno and whoever hired him to kill Lieutenant Vlotsky. They put us on this path. It’s their burden, not ours.”

“I should have been paying attention. If I had stayed awake, Pedro would be alive. You can’t deny that.”

I was getting nowhere. It was hard to talk somebody out of guilt. “Do you want to catch the bastards that hired Zorno?”

“Yes, I want to catch them. What the hell do you think?”

“I know you want to catch them, but how bad do you want to?”

“I want to catch them, okay? Quit beating around the bush and say whatever it is you want to say.”

“I know why Paul’s so interested in this case.”

“Why?”

“Because Karl Gilkyson encouraged him to downplay it.”

“Why would the mayor’s office want to downplay it? Vlotsky’s father works for the city.”

“Because the mayor’s behind this whole thing, Maggie. He hired Zorno.”

“No he didn’t. It was the Army guy, Kapasi.”

I shook my head no.

“Do you have any proof?”

“Not yet, but the mayor wants control of KOP, and this case is related. I have to find out how.”

Maggie looked tired. “I don’t see how there can be a connection between Mayor Samir and this case.”

“Hey, if you’re afraid to stand up to the mayor, I understand.”

I was being unfair, and she called me on it. “Quit the bullshit. I want to catch these guys, Juno. I don’t give a shit who they are.”

“Even if it’s the mayor?”

“How can you be so sure it’s the mayor?”

“I’m sure. Why else would his office try to downplay it?”

“That’s all you’re basing this on?”

I wanted to say no, there were other reasons, but the truth was I had nothing else. “I’ll make you a deal, Maggie. The two of us, we take this case to the end, no matter what, whether it leads to the mayor or not.”

“Fair enough,” she said. “I think you’re crazy with this mayor stuff, but if he is involved, I’ll cuff him myself.”

The bodies were being carried out under Abdul’s supervision, two black bags dragged across the weed tops to the truck. The truck pulled off, and the onlookers went back to their boozing and betting.

I looked at Maggie’s silhouette. “You understand that I won’t be playing by the rules? The mayor is trying to take KOP away from Paul. I can’t allow that.”

“I’ve seen the way you are. I can handle it.”

“We have a deal then? We take this case to the end.”

“On one condition. You can’t keep any more secrets from me.” When I didn’t answer, she said, “You proved tonight that you can’t do this alone. You need me, Juno.”

I flexed my hand. “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know if Chief Chang is dirty. I want to know about his relationship with the Bandurs. I want to know everything.”

I though about making up a bunch of bullshit to tell Maggie, but she’d just saved my life. She deserved the truth about Paul and me. To make her understand I had to go back to ’62….

S
EPTEMBER 30, 2762

N
ATASHA
and I sat at a window table. The restaurant bobbed with the flow of the Koba. Boats lights skimmed by, dimmed by a haze of falling rain. I’d been seeing her for months now. Things were going well, real well, but not tonight. Tonight she had something on her mind.

I offered the last mussel to Natasha. She refused, so I sucked it down and returned the shell to its plate.

Natasha had her hair pulled up. An open-backed black dress made me wish I was sitting behind her, getting lost in neck shadows and nape hair. She dabbed her mouth with a napkin for the third time. “Juno, can I ask you something?”

Here it comes, what she’s been stewing about all night.
“Yeah.”

“Are you really going to arrest my father?”

“Yes. Why? Don’t you want me to?”

“Yes, I want you to. I just don’t understand why you haven’t done it yet.”

“I told you. We’re still collecting evidence. We’ll do it as soon as we can.”

“It’s just that you’ve been saying that for a long time.”

“And you’re starting to wonder if I’ve been honest with you?”

She looked down at her empty plate and nodded.

“I swear to you, Natasha; I’m going to arrest him myself. He’ll spend the rest of his life in the Zoo.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

I reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m not.”

She nodded again, but I could tell she wasn’t convinced.

“Listen, maybe it would help if I knew why you hate him so much.”

She pulled her hand away and looked out the window. There was a gecko hanging on the other side of the glass, his pale underbelly exposed to me. I put my napkin on the table and unintentionally scared him away.

Natasha said, “It’s the way he treats my mother. He doesn’t love her…and she deserves better than that.”

“How do you know he doesn’t love her?”

“He sleeps around.”

“Does your mother know?”

“He doesn’t do it in front of her, but she knows. She has to know.”

“Maybe your mother should leave him.”

“She can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

She was starting to raise her voice. “Because he controls her, Juno. She’s afraid of him.”

“Why is she afraid?”

“She just is.”

“Does he threaten her?”

She looked out the window.

“Is she worried about money? Doesn’t she think she can make it on her own?”

Nothing.

“Why is she so afraid?”

“You want to know why? I’ll tell you why. He rapes her! I hear him at night yelling at her, telling her it’s time to give him a son. She begs him to stop, but he forces her. I can hear her crying while he grunts away.”

I looked away—wrong thing to do.

“You just had to make me say it, didn’t you!? You treat me like one of your snitches. You push and push, wear me down until you break me. Well, you broke me. Now you know why I hate my father. Does that make you feel big? What are you going to do about it, cop? Have enough evidence now?”

She hurried to her feet, bumping the table and making the plates jump. She took the napkin with her, using it to wipe at her eyes as she stomped out of the restaurant.

I wanted to chase after her, but I couldn’t move. I felt like there was a giant ball of lead in my stomach, holding me down like a paperweight. What the fuck was I doing? I was spying on her. Spying on her family. Leading her on while Paul cooked up his bullshit schemes. It needed to stop. If we were going to have a future, it needed to stop.

I found Paul watching channel F. Natasha was lying on her bed, bawling. She hadn’t bothered to take off her dress or let her hair down. My eyes stung with salt.

Paul said, “What do you think happened to her?”

“I don’t know,” I managed to rasp out. I felt sick.

She began to moan when it took too much energy to wail. I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned down the volume.

Paul asked, “How was your date?” He still didn’t know about Natasha and me.

“Not so good. We had a fight.”

“Really. What about?”

I didn’t answer. Pavel Yashin was at Natasha’s door.
What is he doing?
Natasha didn’t see him; her back was to the door. He came into the room and crossed over to her bed. Her face was buried deep in her pillow. Yashin slowly, tentatively set his hand on her shoulder, where my hand should be. Natasha’s body went rigid. He started to rub her shoulder, moving toward her neck. She jerked away.

I could see it now. She had lied about her mother.

Yashin stood still for a moment with his hand outstretched. She stopped crying; she stopped breathing. She had the pillow gripped like a life preserver. He withdrew his hand and walked out.

I finally understood. He’d never raped her mother. I’d seen how he never even touched her; he had a thing for young girls, substitutes for his grown-up daughter. Natasha was the one he’d raped.

I went red. In my mind, my father’s face superimposed itself over Pavel Yashin’s. The rage boiled over.

“Hey. Are you okay, Juno?”

I knocked the display over.

“It’s okay, Juno! Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

I ran outside into the stinging rain. Lizard eyes mocked me. I stomped a gecko, kicked at a too-fast-for-me iguana. I pulled my piece, took two shots at the iguana. The second one blew it apart. People came out of their houses. Paul badge-flashed them back in.

I counted breaths, bringing myself down from memories of frenzied struggles against my father’s wrist restraints. I tucked my piece away. I ran my fingers into my hair and squeezed, the pain nudging me back toward center.

Paul tried to lead me inside. “Are you okay?”

I stayed where I was, letting the rainwater cool my overheated body. “We have to talk, Paul.”

“Let’s go have a drink.” Paul didn’t ask what my blowup was about. He knew I’d tell him when I was ready.

Paul and I walked into the first bar we could find, the Jungle Juice. Fake trees lined the back wall, and fake vines hung down from the ceiling, nothing more than ropes with paper leaves
stapled on. The bartenders were in Tarzan garb, the waitresses sporting zebra-stripe dresses.

We nabbed a couple seats at the bar. Bar noise invaded my thoughts. I teetered on the edge. I slugged down a shot of brandy, warming the skin under my wet clothes. My nerves dulled. A security blanket of logical thought wrapped itself around me. “It’s time to move on Yashin.”

“Not yet, let’s give it a little more time.”

What the hell was his problem? We’d been having this argument for months. The lieutenant had reached the end of his rope with us. He was threatening to split us up as partners, but Paul still wouldn’t let it go. The guy was obsessed.

I wasn’t going to let Paul talk me out of it, not this time. “We have all we need. All we have to do is call Judge Saydak, and get our warrant. I want this to be over, Paul. We’ve had those cameras up for
months.
I’m sick of us sitting on our asses when we could have dropped the bastard a long time ago.”

Our case against Natasha’s father was airtight. We had more vids than a jury could watch—Yashin making flashlit pickups on the river; Yashin cutting piles of brown sugar on his kitchen table; bowtied waiters coming to the door and exchanging cash for butcher-paper wrapped packages.