Kop (36 page)

I kept my weight on the good ankle and faced the oncoming figures. They sashayed through ferns and alley trash with an offworld economy of movement. Maggie stayed next to me, putting a proud face over a terrified one.

There were seven of them all told. The offworld thugs didn’t even bother to take our weapons. They knew how useless they’d be against offworld tech.

The seventh figure came face to face with me. Crime lord Carlos Simba said, “I’ll take that.”

My hands were viced onto the vid.
I should go for my gun. I might be able to kill Simba before they react. Or I could hostage him, use
him to get us and the vid out of the alley.
Simba was staring me down, his hand held out for the vid. Offworlders surrounded us, clacking finger blades and flaunting brass knucks that emerged from under their skin. I calculated my chances—zero, zero, zero. I handed over the vid. I felt I was passing over KOP with it.

Simba tossed the vid over his shoulder. One of the thugs caught it and read the data with eye implants. “It’s authentic,” he said.

Simba stood in front of me—slicked hair, peaked forehead, and a poor-fitting store-cut suit that matched his man-of-the-people image. He was going to kill us. My legs went weak. I thought of Niki trying to go it alone and sank to my knees, my ankle wrenching uncomfortably under my weight.

Simba talked to Maggie. “Mayor Samir would like you to know that your deal is off. What good is an informant that chooses not to inform? He is very disappointed in you. You would be well advised to resign from the police. The mayor promises you nothing but shit duty as long as you stay. Consider yourself very lucky that we’re not going to kill you.”

Maggie didn’t shrink from him. “Why not?”

“A dead cop with your family connections would complicate matters. There’d have to be an investigation, and that just doesn’t fit into our plans at the moment.”

Simba looked down at me.

I got to my feet, swallowing the ankle pain, summoning my emasculated self upright.
Kill me standing up.

Simba roughly patted my cheek. It bordered on slapping. He didn’t say a thing. He just turned around and walked down the alley, brushing through the ferns.

I yelled at his back. “Are you afraid to kill me yourself?”

His entourage of offworld goons turned to follow. They piled into the offworld vehicle and powered off, mysteriously leaving me alive.

W
E
left the alley. I refused Maggie’s help and limped. The ankle didn’t feel broken, just a sprain. I tried calling Paul for the third time—no answer. I called his home. His wife, Pei, answered: no, she hadn’t seen him; yes, he was still at the station; he must be in one of his meetings—that was why he wasn’t answering.

Maggie said, “What do we do now?”

“We have to go see Paul. I have to talk to him.” I started for the car.

“How did Simba know about the vid?”

I threw my hands up. How
did
he know?

Maggie grabbed my elbow. “Tipaldi.”

I ran the possibility. The only people who knew about the particulars of the pickup were Sasaki, Tipaldi, Mdoba, Malis, and the two of us. Mdoba was dead, and Sasaki would never tell Simba. “You’re right. It has to be Tipaldi.” Unbelievable. Everything was going to shit. I half-stepped as fast as I could on the bad ankle. My heart raced dance beats as I hustled down the mossy sidewalk. “Tipaldi is the top strong-arm in the Bandur cartel. He has access to Bandur’s books. If Simba flipped him, Bandur is going down—soon. I have to see Paul.”

We covered the distance to the car in no time. We hopped in and raced to the station, not saying a single word on the way.

We left the car down the block and hurried into the station. Cops stopped what they were doing to watch as I half ran, half
limped up the stairs. I felt a cop tug on my arm. “Not now,” I said. I tore my arm loose from the grasp and my other arm was grabbed. Suddenly there were hands all over me. “What the fuck are you assholes doing? I have to talk to the chief!”

I heard Maggie protesting then I saw her on the floor, knocked down. I went berserk. I dug my feet into the floor. I couldn’t feel the ankle pain. Cops reached for my legs, to pick them up. I kicked frantically, making contact with hands and shins until the first leg was seized, then the second.

I jerked violently against their hold as I looked back for Maggie and saw her at the end of the hall, some uniforms blocking her path. They took me into interrogation room two, threw me to the floor, and locked me in. I beat a chair on the floor until it came apart in my hands. Then a second one. I started on the table but ran out of steam before it broke. Three chairs left, I sat in one of the tall ones and waited.

This was it. The mayor had made his move. KOP was in his control. I wouldn’t be stuck in here, detained by my fellow officers if it wasn’t. I had to hope that Paul was still operating freely, finding a way to turn things around. The more I thought about it, the more sure I was that that was the case. Paul was one resourceful bastard. It would take a lot more than the fucking mayor to stop him. All I had to do was wait it out. Paul would spring me out of here, and Maggie and I would get back to work. We’d lost the vid, but we’d find other proof.

We made a good team, Maggie and I. She had a lot to learn, but she was sharp. She was right about there being little difference between Paul and the mayor, but it hadn’t always been so. Paul
tried
to make a difference. It wasn’t until he’d so clearly failed that he gave up and started looking out for himself. Who could blame him? How could anybody fix this place? The fact was he
did
try, which was more than I could say for myself. All I ever did was tag along.

Maggie was having a hard time picking the right side in this fight. I knew what side I was on. Paul was my friend.

The door opened—Gilkyson. He saw the broken chair and stepped out, coming back in a minute later with two well-built uniforms.

I turned on the smug. “What’s wrong, Karl? You afraid of something?”

Gilkyson set a box on the table then sat in the short chair. What a dumb shit, sitting in that chair. When we’d grill somebody, we’d sit him in the short chair. It was a chair just like the others, but the legs were cut down by a few centimeters—made the suspect feel inferior having to look up at the interrogators.

He looked like a kid doing his homework at the kitchen table as he stretched uncomfortably to read a report he’d pulled out of his box. I draped my arms over the table, claiming its surface as my territory. Gilkyson was forced to stay back—out of my reach.

“Hello, Mr. Mozambe,” he said.

“That’s
Detective
Mozambe.”

“Not anymore. You’ve been fired—effective immediately.”

“On what grounds?”

“You’ve been fired for engaging in police corruption.”

“You don’t have the authority.”

“You’re right. I don’t.” He turned the report around for me. “Here is your termination report, signed by acting Chief of Police Banks. Paul Chang was removed from his position as chief of police. The mayor has appointed Diego Banks in his absence.”

I told myself not to worry. Paul would figure out a way to get his job back. “You won’t get away with this, Karl.”

“We already have. He was escorted from the building a half hour ago.

Gilkyson pulled more goodies from his box. “Now Mr.
Mozambe, I have some propositions to discuss with you. I think you’ll be interested in what I have to say.”

I wanted to kick his self-righteous ass. “Talk.”

“We’ve built a case against you. We know you take kickbacks from whorehouses and gambling dens.”

“That’s not true.”

“I thought you might be resistant.”

He started a vid. Holos of Bensaid and me at Bensaid’s bar. Bensaid handed me a wad of money. We started arguing. Bensaid slammed his glass on the table. I walked out.

Next vid: Bensaid testifying against me.

Next vid: Me taking an envelope from a streetwalker in fishnets.

Next vid: Me taking a cut of the pool at a basement card game.

Next vid: Me shaking down a dope dealer, scoring some painkillers for Niki.

FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! “You can’t do this!” I was up out of my chair, my finger in his face. The pair of uniforms lowered me into my seat.

Gilkyson talked over my head to the uniforms. “If he gets up again, cuff him.” He lowered his gaze to me. “Please spare me your famous temper.”

“What do you want?”

“I want your testimony.”

“You expect me to testify against myself?”

“No. We want you to testify against Paul Chang.”

This was why I was still alive. Simba let me live so they could use me to prosecute Paul. I wished he’d killed me. “No. I won’t do it. I don’t know anything.”

“You were his partner twenty-five years ago. You’re his best friend. You can’t tell me you don’t know anything about his activities.”

“I don’t know anything.”

“You were there when he made his first big busts. In fact, you made them together. You know how he managed to rise so fast through KOP. You know all about his dealings with Ram Bandur and his son Ben. You know everything.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Paul Chang is a great cop.”

“You’ll tell us everything, or else…”

“I won’t do it.”

“…we’ll prosecute you. You’ll go to jail. How long do cops survive in jail?”

“I can’t testify against Paul. Do what you want to me. I’m no rat.”

“Your misguided loyalty is almost touching, Mr. Mozambe. You leave us no option but to go after…let me see…” He checked his notes. “Natasha…is that her name? I understand she goes by Niki.”

I couldn’t speak.

“Her father was a drug dealer; right? She picked up some bad habits from him. I have a warrant here to search your home. Do you think we might find some illegal substances? If we find her in possession of anything illegal, it will carry a mandatory sentence, you know. Two to four years. How will she fare in prison?”

“The pills are mine. You’ve seen my hand. I need them for the pain.”

“The warrant includes blood tests, Mr. Mozambe.”

I lunged over the table. The cops responded with vice-grip holds on my arms. They had me back in my seat before I could touch him.

Gilkyson leaned back in his chair as he set a form in front of me, careful not to get too close. He marked an X. “This form is a testimony agreement. It states that you will testify against defendant Paul Chang in the case of the
People vs. Paul Chang
on the charges of racketeering, corruption, conspiracy, and participating in a criminal enterprise.”

FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!!! My body shook.
Paul’s my friend. I can’t do it. I can’t.
“You kicked him out of KOP. That’s enough. You don’t need to prosecute him.”

“I’m afraid we do.”

“After all he’s done for Lagarto, you’re going to treat him like this?”

“The man conspires with the most vile criminals in Lagartan history.”

“I can’t do it.” My mouth was bone dry. I needed a drink.

“What’s your answer, Mr. Mozambe?”

Sweat soaked my underarms. I felt sick. I had to piss.
I can’t sign.

“Mr. Mozambe?”

We were so
close.
I held that vid in my hand.
What can I do, Paul? I can’t let Niki go to prison. I just can’t.
I banged my head on the table….

I’m sorry, Paul.
“W-what do I get for signing?”

“I always knew you were more reasonable than your reputation. I will bury the evidence against you. I will let you tear up the warrant to search your home right now.”

“You promise to leave me and Niki alone?”

“I promise. All we want is Paul Chang.”

“I get my pension.”

“That can be arranged. We’ll let you retire instead of being fired. How does that sound?”

What can I do, Paul?
“Do you have a pen?”

Gilkyson had to hold my hand still while I moved my fingers and signed by the X. He ran his scanner-hand over my signature, uploading it into the system.

They kept me locked up for another thirty minutes. I spent the time formulating a long-shot plan to save Paul. I had to redeem myself. They unlocked the door and ushered me out of the building before the silent stares of my former workmates. I was weaponless and badgeless. I wasn’t a cop anymore.