A Murder of Justice

ID.

“Jose,” he said, punching the answering machine’s Play button.

“Hey, Frank,” came Jose’s voice, “don’t forget to pick me up, tomorrow-Savoy’s. Oh… case you missed it, the Gentry thing’s on the damn tube. Worsham at eight. Had an interview with Congressman Rhinelander.” Jose’s sigh filled the room. “Bend over…”

Frank punched the Off button. “… and kiss your ass good-bye,” he finished. He stood staring at the machine, imagining how tomorrow would go.

“Come here, big boy,” he heard Kate say.

He got a warm, sensual feeling in his stomach. He turned in time to see Monty spring lightly into Kate’s lap.

She held Monty against her breast. The big cat purred, eyes closed, head resting on her shoulder.

Frank tried to freeze-frame the scene, knowing that he couldn’t.

Life goes on. Any second she’ll move and the picture’ll be gone. Nothing stays the same. Memory’s a blessing, he remembered his father saying once. Without it, there’d be no tomorrow, because there’d be no yesterday.

“What’re you thinking about?” Kate looked up at him and the picture went away.

“Us,” he said.

“What about us?”

“Just us,” he said.

Penny.” Kate’s whisper came through the dark, warm and close to his ear.

Frank turned toward her and lined his body up against hers. “Ever play jackstraws?”

“Pick-up sticks? Not recently.”

“Remember how you have to lift off one stick at a time without disturbing the others? If you lift off enough to get the black stick, you win?”

“Oh-kay?”

“Just thinking about the other players in the game.”

“Emerson?”

“He’s one. Him… the media… this congressman, Rhinelander.”

“All after the black stick?”

“No. Not exactly.”

“Not exactly?”

“They got different black sticks. Emerson’s is a good set of numbers.”

“So?”

“So he sets up a machine that gives him good numbers. You work for Emerson and you want an ‘Attaboy,’ you give him good numbers.”

“You and Jose don’t.”

“No. We got to where we are before Emerson came on the scene. And we aren’t going any further. Two old-timers who’ve vested retirement and who aren’t sucking for promotion are bulletproof.”

“But they’re expendable.”

“That too,” Frank said.

“And the congressman… his black stick?”

“Rhinelander and the media will play off each other. He wants the publicity he’s going to get if he investigates the department. The media knows law enforcement that works doesn’t sell papers. So Mr. Rhinelander puts on a circus, shows that law enforcement’s broken, and the media sells papers.”

Kate put her hand on his neck. At the blood-warm crossroads of neck and shoulder. “And you and Jose, your stick is getting the killer. Simple as that?”

“It’s good enough. The shooters have their way, they’re going to sink the ship.”

“And you and Jose stop enough of them, the ship doesn’t sink?”

“Something like that.”

“And the ship? Is it going to be a better ship?”

Frank felt his pulse beating against her hand and wanted her hand there forever.

“Not our job to make it better. Just to keep it floating.”