CHAPTER FIFTY

WITH THE CONCUSSION, the doctor wouldn’t let me move around unless I traveled in a wheelchair; she insisted on it. She’d have preferred that I stayed in bed. No chance on that happening.

Mack relieved the orderly of wheelchair duty. Bruno followed behind, along with the rookie LAPD cop. Bruno quizzed him on the difficulty of getting through the LAPD Academy. Once Bruno told the cop he worked at the Lennox Sheriff’s Station, and that he planned to attend the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Academy in Whittier, the cop opened up and they talked non-stop. Bruno reminded me of the excitement and the adventure of looking forward to a career in law enforcement. I only hoped he never ran into a supervisor like Robby Wicks.

Mack moved us down the long hall toward the elevator. “Sorry,” I said, “about the lip.”

“You really have trust issues, pal, you know that? You always have.”

“That little love tap I gave you wasn’t a trust issue. It was paranoia and fear that the worst had happened.” I lowered my tone. “Hey, what the hell’s going on? Is that cop here as a custody officer so, once I’m cleared medically, he’s gonna transport me to the jail ward?”

We came to the elevator and stopped. With the cop so close, Mack said nothing. We waited for the car. The doors slid open.

Mack held up his hand. “Can you guys take the next one? I need to talk to my witness.” Bruno and the cop didn’t seem bothered by the request and continued their conversation. Mack wheeled me in. The doors closed. He pressed 4.

“Your witness?” I said.

“Yeah, it was a little dicey there on the timing, with Marie en route to the hospital by air and me on the ground keeping you from assaulting the paramedic. The paramedic, I might add, who was only trying to help you. But I pulled it off. And I don’t mind saying I’m kinda proud of my little caper.”

“Pulled what off? What little caper?”

“I managed to get a call into Wong before the traffic investigators and the hospital needed your names.”

“What’s Wong have to do with this?”

“I told you, he’s working the Coffin Dancer investigation on that task force. I told him I came across two very important witnesses in that investigation.”

“The Coffin Dancer investigation?” The name sounded familiar, but the headache kept me from pulling it up.

“Come on, old man, you’re better than this.”

I smiled. “Just tell me, asshole.”

“You know, the Los Angeles Consolidated Freight and Design, the LACF and D. The case agent on the task force about pissed himself when I told ’em I had two wits that could bring down the entire organization.”

“You did what? We can’t do that. I mean Marie and I don’t know a thing about that investigation.” I put my hand to my head. The pain worsened as I tried to wrap my brain around what he’d just said. What would happen once the case agent found out Mack lied? Mack’s little house of cards would implode, with Marie and me on the inside. We’d catch the brunt of the fallout from the angry investigators.

“Of all the dumbassed things to do,” I said.

The elevator dinged far too loud. The doors opened. Mack wheeled me out.

“Not really,” he said. “You’re now both in the witness protection program under John and Jane Doe.”

“Mack, that can’t work for very long, and when the wheels come off this little plan of yours, you’re gonna be in the grease again.”

He pushed me down the hall. “You’re not thinking this thing through,” he said. “Sure, there’s some risk, but we’ve been there before and in a lot worse. This isn’t as bad as you think it is. Once the whole thing works out, you and Marie just melt into the background and disappear. Everyone will be too interested in the big fish we caught and not even think about you two.”

“Enlighten me, please. Not as bad as I think, what the hell? How much worse could it be?”

“Hey, you and your pregnant wife aren’t in custody, are you?”

“I’m sorry, yes, thank you for that. I should be more grateful. It’s just this damn headache. Go on, tell me the rest.”

We passed nurses and a janitor in the immaculate white hallway.

“Bruno junior’s kids got snatched and you shouldn’t be working this without the help of law enforcement. You know that.”

He was right, of course. I’d put Marie’s safety above the kids’ and shouldn’t have. What had I been thinking? What he said now made so much more sense. If it worked.

Wait. I’d missed something, a key piece hiding back under the throbbing pain. There had been a reason, a contributing factor not to bring in the cops. Yes, yes, Bruno said the LACF and D had influence with the cops. The three deputies who’d given us the bum’s rush back in the hotel room proved it. Unless, of course, those three had been bought off by Don the Don Brodie. Nine million could buy a lot of folks—even a lot of cops. Sure, that made sense. Those three, which included Blue Suit, could be working for the crazy woman from the Santa Monica pier.

“This isn’t such a good idea,” I said.

“Just listen a minute, would ya? The LACF and D task force has been up on these guys for months now, spent tens of thousands of dollars in man hours. They’ve identified some of the players, but haven’t been able to hang a predicate crime on them, at least not one to support a 182, a conspiracy indictment. From the mid-level up, no one touches the dope or the money. It goes against every other dope conspiracy I’ve ever been involved in. No one understands how it’s really working, and they’re scared to death this method’s going to spread throughout the U.S. They have the street-level guys doing all the handling. Those street guys screw up, they get taken outta the box, sent to the can, and replaced. It’s as simple as that. Normally you can grab the midlevel guys and at least have a chance at flipping them for one of the top, if not the top guy. Not now, not the way this thing is set up. They even have cutouts like spies use.”

“And we’re working a kidnap,” I said, “that involves narcotics and big money.”

“Exactly.”

The fog cleared a little more, the pain eased up. “Wait, wait, they’ve been on them for months now, right? Do they have video of the kids? Do they know where the kids are?”

He stopped at room 410. Another blue uniform stood watch outside Marie’s door, a young kid without much experience. Probably a nice guy, but he didn’t inspire confidence, not with Marie’s safety involved. Even so, I never thought I’d take comfort again in a cop being so close by.

“Wong’s getting with the case agent as we speak,” Mack said, “to go over the surveillance notes. What are the odds, though? Probably not very good, but there’s still a chance. We’ll know in another thirty minutes or so. The best part about this whole thing … go on and guess what the best part about this whole mess is.”

Based on his huge smile, I said, “You’ve been transferred from the jail TDY to the task force.”

“Bingo, buddy boy. All because of you. I owe you for that.”

He seemed to forget that I’d been the one to get him busted back from detective on the Violent Crimes Team to jail deputy working graveyard at MCJ. He also got the hell kicked out of him and spent four weeks in the hospital because of my last little caper. No, we weren’t even, not by a damn sight. I still owed him big.

“Here, help me up. I can’t be wheeled in to see my wife, not like this. I gotta go in standing on my own two feet.”