The Tin Collector

Chapter 14

As soon as Shane got home, he called Sandy. She said she was sorry she hadn't gotten in touch with Thackery, but promised she would. She said she'd had a tough two days.

"What'm I supposed to do with Chooch tomorrow?" Shane asked. "They've got him sitting in detention all day. He's not even going to classes."

"That guy Thackery is a complete ass," Sandy said. "He's on Chooch for smoking dope? What a hypocrite."

"Not smoking it, Sandy, selling it."

"I was there at the school two months ago when Chooch enrolled. Thackery was just driving out. He put down the window of his crummy, rusted-out van to talk to me, and the smell of old pot was so strong in that thing, I got a contact high."

"Sandy, lots of people smoke pot, okay? It's a sad social truth, but there it is. It doesn't matter what Thackery does in his off-hours. You've gotta call him and set up an appointment."

"Right. Okay, I promise, sugar."

"You promised yesterday."

"This time I pledge it. I swear it, okay?" She changed gears. "You go ahead and take him to school tomorrow. Forget Thackery. I'll have already called that snooty headmaster, Mr. St. John. I'll square him away. That guy is always leering at me. Wants to get in my pants."

"You always put things so delicately," Shane said, beginning to wish he'd never met the beautiful raven-haired informant.

"Don't be such a prude. When I get through with St. John, he'll be at Camp Fantasy, pitching a tent in his Jockey shorts. Don't worry about Chooch."

After she hung up, Shane went outside. Chooch was already out there in one of the metal chairs. Shane dropped his tired ass in the vacant seat beside him. They looked out at the still canal, both lost in separate thoughts. Finally Shane jerked his mind off his department problems and focused on the boy sitting sullenly beside him.

"If your mom and I could keep you in school," Shane started slowly, "would you go there and really give it a try?"

"Moot point, 'cause you can't. I already got the scarlet E for 'expel.' I'm gone, brother."

"Chooch, I've been thinking about it. You're really smart. You've got a great head on your shoulders. You could be something important in life. You have it in you to be anything you want."

"Like a cop?" he smirked.

"Better than a cop. You could go to college, pick any career. Your mom has money; she'll pay for anything. That's a big advantage for you. It's a chance most guys never get."

They sat in silence, looking at the still canal water, both of them rocking slowly in the old metal chairs.

"I know you're trying to help, man," Chooch finally said, "but it ain't about having a career. Y'know… it's just not what it's about. It goes much deeper than that."

More silence, then Shane turned in his chair to look at the teenager. "Wanna know something?" Chooch didn't answer. "I believe in you, Chooch," he went on softly. "I know that whatever you want, you've got the ability to get it. You've got what it takes. I think you're special."

"That's bullshit," Chooch shot back.

"No, it's not. I've been watching you… how you handle stuff. You've got guts. You stand up. You walk your own trail. That's very rare. It takes strength of character. Most people can't do that." More silence. "Listen. I told you I wouldn't lie to you not ever. So this is the straight stuff. It's what I see in you, and it's impressive."

Chooch turned his face away from Shane. His breathing had changed. His right hand darted up and brushed his cheek under his eyes. Then he stood up, and anger flared. "Don't fuck around with me. Okay? I can't take any more bullshit. Just leave me alone." He moved quickly into the house.

Shane sat in his garden until the setting sun began turning the still canal bright yellow, then orange and purple, and finally black. After the sun surrendered its hold on the day, a cold evening wind came off the ocean, blowing marine air across the coastline. Shane was getting a chill, so he got out of his chair and walked back inside the house.

???

"It's fucking forty minutes too early!" Chooch glowered as Shane pulled up in front of the Harvard Westlake School the next morning. There were no waiting lines of foreign cars as Chooch opened the door and dragged his book bag from the front seat.

"I've got a new duty assignment downtown, so I need to get there early. Live with it," Shane said.

"Sure, no problem. Live with it. That's my fuckin' motto anyway." Chooch angrily moved away from the car and sat alone on a bench near the athletic pavilion.

Shane pulled out of the driveway and drove two miles to the Valley Division HQ. He figured if he hurried, he'd be able to get everything done before eight-thirty.

Fifteen minutes later Shane was back in the Harvard Westlake faculty parking lot waiting for Brad Thackery. After ten more minutes the assistant dean of admissions pulled his rusting Ford van into his parking stall and got out. Shane moved to him. "Good morning, sir," he said pleasantly.

"Maybe for you, but it's not a good morning for Chooch. I saw him sitting out front when I drove past. Since I still haven't heard from Mrs. Sandoval, you can just go right back around and pick him up and depart the premises, ad quam primum. He is no longer welcome at this school," Thackery said harshly, then added brusquely, "and remove your vehicle from faculty parking. This is a restricted area."

"How do you say that in Latin?"

"I'm through talking to you, whoever you are. Good-bye."

Shane pulled out his badge and held it up for Brad Thackery to read. Thackery looked at it, surprised, readjusted slightly, then with less anger said, "Big deal."

"You're right, it is a big deal, 'specially since your van there is crawling with vehicular irregularities. You wanna put that blinker on? Seems to me it wasn't working when you turned in here."

"I'm about to get it fixed."

" 'About to' doesn't cut it," Shane said. "Put it on, please. I want to check it out."

Thackery glared at Shane. "This is what really gets you guys off, isn't it?"

"Yep. Can't get enough of it."

As Brad Thackery opened the van, Shane moved to his Acura and opened the back door. A black Labrador jumped out and, with his tongue lolling, followed Shane back to the van. Thackery was leaning into the front seat, fiddling with the blinker and trying to get it to work, when the dog started barking and pacing back and forth along the side of Thackery's van.

"Whoa… whoa… whatta we got here?" Shane said with mock surprise. Thackery jerked his head out of the van.

"Get that dog away from me."

"This isn't a dog, Mr. Thackery, this is a drug enforcement officer. His name is Krupkee. It looks like Officer Krupkee's got a noseful. Where is it, boy? What ya got?"

The black Lab had moved to the rear of the van and now had both paws up on the spare tire, which was hooked by a locked bracket to the back of the van. Then the black Lab started barking and pawing at the tire.

"Oh boy, this ain't good, Mr. Thackery. You wanna give me the key that releases that back tire?"

"No. No, I don't."

"Lemme put it another way, sir. Gimme the key, or I'll pry the fucking thing off with my tire jack. Officer Krupkee just gave me probable cause for a search."

After a long moment, Thackery reluctantly dug into his pocket and produced the key that unlocked the tire bracket. Shane swung it away from the van and looked into the tire. There, attached by magnets to the inside of the tire drum, was a small metal box. Shane pulled it off and opened it. There were about four ounces of grass in a canvas bag and a bottle with a few pills. Shane opened the bag and poured some low-grade pot into his palm.

"This is not good, Mr. Thackery. As a matter of fact, you're under arrest, regnat populus." He poured the dope back into the bag. "So you won't get the wrong idea about me and think I'm some overeducated, Latin-quoting blowhard, that's just the state motto of Arkansas. I was stationed there in the Marines. It means 'the people rule,' and the people of Los Angeles don't like this one bit and are about to rule that you go to the city lockup."

Shane pulled out his handcuffs, spun Thackery around, and put them on.

"You can't do this," Thackery protested.

"Somebody should tell that to my watch commander. In the meantime, you're gonna sit this one out downtown. Don't worry, I'll call the principal for you and tell him his assistant dean of admissions is gonna be at County Jail riding the pine in the detox box."

"Is this about Chooch? Is that what this is all about?" Thackery's eyes were darting around, hoping no other member of the faculty would come driving in and witness this debacle.

"You bet it's about Chooch. But it's also about you, Brad. If you weren't such an insufferable asshole, I probably wouldn't have gone so far out of my way to knock your dick in the dirt."

"Look, Chooch has problems. Okay? He's got deep emotional difficulties. Besides, he's selling drugs."

"Bet he didn't sell you this crummy bag a' bird food," Shane said, holding up the bag of thin, seed-ridden grass.

"You think this is funny, is that it?"

"It's about as funny as prostate surgery. How do guys like you end up teaching school?"

"What do you want?"

"I want you to cut Chooch some slack. I want you to go to bat for him."

"I can't change the course of events. It's too late. They've already had a faculty meeting about him."

"I'd think the assistant dean of admissions would have a little pull around here," Shane said. "Of course, after this bust, you'll be lucky to be in charge of school bus schedules."

"Look, okay… maybe…"

"Maybe what?"

"If I… if I said to them I'd work with him separately, maybe do some drug counseling or something…"

"I don't think you're exactly the right guy for that, but go ahead, keep talkin'."

"Maybe if I really try, I could get him another chance. Just one…"

"Okay, that sounds more promising. You give him another chance, I give you another chance."

Just then, two other faculty cars pulled into the parking area and slowed as they passed Thackery's van. He was standing there with his hands cuffed behind him. A woman put down her window.

"Is everything okay, Brad?" she asked, looking at the handcuffs.

"We're fine." Shane said. "I'm the magician Mr. Thackery hired for next month's high-school assembly. Just showing Brad here how I do my handcuff escape." Shane smiled and she drove on, not looking too convinced.

"I want immediate results, Thackery. I'm looking for Chooch to get outta that detention hall this morning and back into regular class. If he gets goofy about anything in the future, don't bust him. Call me."

Shane shoved his business card into Thackery's shirt pocket and then unhooked the cuffs. He put the dope and pills in his jacket pocket, gave Brad Thackery back his car keys, then he led Officer Krupkee over to the Acura.

The Lab jumped into the backseat, Shane put the car in gear, pulled out of the faculty parking area, then drove back to Valley Division and returned the dog to the Valley Bureau Drug Enforcement Unit. He shot back onto the freeway and got to Internal Affairs downtown with ten minutes to spare.