Murder One

18

MATTHEWS LEFT HIS OFFICE just after five and walked to his car in the underground parking garage behind police headquarters. He was meeting some of the boys at Scene of the Crime; they were going to plan out what to do next. So his mind was somewhat distracted when, all at once, a two-hundred-and-twenty-pound hurricane swept down out of nowhere and pinned him against his Toyota Celica.

“Wha—wha—” Matthews’s eyes peeled open, wide and frightened. “What the hell is going on? Hel—”

A thick strong hand clamped down over his mouth. “Try that again, you little pissant, and I’ll rip your tongue out. That’s a promise.”

Matthews’s eyes lighted on the face. The hand on his mouth eased up just enough for him to talk.

It was the investigator, Loving. And he was mad.

“What are you doing here?” Matthews sputtered.

“I’m on my way to a baseball game, you schmuck. What do you think I’m doing here? “

“I guess your boss went home crying that I was mean to him. So he sent his enforcer out to fight his battles.”

“As a matter of fact, I found out from someone else. Ben didn’t mention it, and probably never will. And let me give you another clue, schmuck. Fighting his battles is my job. And I’m very good at my job.” Loving lifted Matthews’s body up into the air, then slammed it back down against the car.

Matthews was hurting, but he wasn’t letting it show. “What is it you want, Loving?”

“I want you to back off, Matthews. Got it? What took place today on the fourth floor was totally unacceptable.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.”

“There is no opinion. Except mine.” Loving lifted him up and slammed him down again. “Kincaid is the man, understand? And no one touches the man.”

“What’s going on?” The loud echo of footsteps in the parking garage told them both they were no longer alone. Soon three other officers were crowding behind them—Dodds, Callery, The Hulk—most of them men Loving had seen at the bar a few days before.

Loving released Matthews. “We were just having a little chat, boys. That’s all.”

Matthews’s lips curled. “He snuck up behind me and tried to jump me. Let’s show him what happens to people who mess with the force!”

Loving didn’t look scared. “You know, Matthews, you’re a lot braver now that you’ve got three other guys backing you up. A minute ago, you looked as if you were gonna piss your pants. In fact, I think maybe you did.”

“He was trying to rough me up,” Matthews informed his friends. “Scare me off.”

Loving rolled his eyes. “The only thing I’m tryin’ to do is investigate. Which technically is the job of the police. But since you didn’t do it, I have to.”

Matthews was incensed. “Are we gonna put up with this kinda talk? Are we?”

Loving turned toward the others. “I’m just trying to find out what happened to Joe McNaughton. What really happened. I’d think you boys might be interested in that, being friends of Joe’s and all. But I guess you’re more interested in railroading some little teenage girl. Or her attorney.”

“That attorney tried to make us look like idiots,” Callery said.

“That attorney just did what he’s supposed to do. This business of puttin’ the Squeeze on him is idiotic. Just because you’ve got one angry moron over here doesn’t mean you all have to be angry morons.”

“Are we gonna listen to this?” Matthews bellowed. “Are we gonna let this scumbag talk to us this way?”

“You’re, really desperate for a fight, aren’t you?” Loving lowered his voice a notch. “Well, I tell you what, you little twerp. Maybe, just maybe, you’re gonna get your wish. Except it ain’t gonna be you and three buddies. It’s gonna be you and me. Period.” He smiled broadly. “Now that’ll give you something to dream about at bedtime, won’t it?”

Loving turned his attention to the others. “What I said before still goes. I know you know what’s been goin’ down. You ought to come clean. It’s the right thing to do, and some of you owe it to Ben to do the right thing.”

“You’re full of crap,” Matthews growled.

“Oh yeah? Well, I know this. If Kincaid knew something that could help you—any of you—when someone had trumped up charges against you, he wouldn’t hesitate a second to come forward. No matter what the cost. If he could help you, he would.” He paused, giving each of them a sharp look “It’s a pity none of you courageous do-gooders quite rises to his level.”

Without warning, Loving swung around and jabbed the sole of his shoe into Matthews’s backside. Matthews screamed, clutching his rear.

“Consider that payback,” Loving said. He started moving away before any of the others felt honor bound to intervene.

“That hurt like hell!” Matthews shouted, still holding himself. “What are you wearing?”

Loving lifted his foot and turned his heel up so they could see. “Cleats, you sorry son of a bitch. Didn’t I tell you I was on my way to a baseball game?”