A black unmarked Interceptor was parked at an angle beneath my office. An argument out front. As I crossed Pender I realized the man with his back to me, pacing along the gutter, was Ryan Martz. He was wearing a track jacket and jeans, his shaved head stubbled and a week’s beard growth on his neck. Sonia stood between him and the door, hands in the pockets of her trench coat, enduring Martz’s tirade.
Martz turned, saw me, and charged.
“The hell did you do to Chris?” he said, shoving me back into the street.
“You want an answer,” I said, “or do you want to swing at me?”
He wanted to swing at me. His knuckles stung my left forearm. I backed up, warding off his fists with my own. He grabbed for me and I broke his hold.
“I fucking knew something was up when you asked about him,” he said. He nodded at Sonia. “I didn’t get it till I saw her here, waiting for you. Remembered she’d come to me for advice. I told her to ignore it.”
“You were wrong,” I said.
“So the right answer’s killing him?” Martz’s hurt was fueling his rage. “Can’t fucking believe you two.”
Car traffic was minimal but we soon picked up a small crowd of onlookers. Sonia hurried to put herself between us as Martz approached. I had my hand up to deflect.
He swung wildly. He was stronger than me, in better shape. His blows stung.
Sonia grabbed his arm. “Stop it, Ryan.”
He shrugged her off. When she grabbed for him again he gave her a hard shove that caught her off guard, and when he turned back to me I caught him with a right to the face. It wasn’t a great punch and it didn’t land where I’d wanted it to, but he hadn’t seen it coming.
He struggled up. “You want to do this?”
I pointed at the gun beneath his jacket. “Gonna shoot me?”
Taking shallow breaths he opened the car door and flung the gun onto the seat. When he turned I came at him. I tagged him with basic combinations, jabbing to keep distance. He bulled back, taking the punches to seize hold of me. We spilled out into the street, landing amid a ruckus of car horns and passerby.
He was first up and kicked me in the side, too high to catch the ribcage. His padded boots hurt like hell. He tried for another and I took that, rolling away and finding my footing. He was on me immediately, throwing haymakers.
I covered my head. His punches rained down, driving me toward the concrete. When I was nearly doubled over I swung for his ribs. The punch was low and wide, tagging the kidneys. An instant DQ if the fight had rules.
There was a lull in his flurries. Kidney shots fucking hurt. I hooked my left arm around his torso to steady him and pounded on his sweetbreads until he collapsed on top of me. I rolled, facedown in the street. Martz’s hand snagged the back of my collar, raising me up. The ground collided with my forehead.
His knee was on my shoulder. The street was wet and tasted like spilt gasoline. I raised my head up and grabbed for the front of his shirt. The fabric was still. He’d stopped fighting.
Looking up I saw a patrol car, its blue and reds on. No siren.
One of the officers had a bemused look on his face. “Where’s your sidearm, Ryan?” he asked.
Martz was having a hard time breathing. He pointed at the car.
“Whatcha got there?” the officer said, looking at me.
“Personal,” I managed to say.
Martz nodded. The officer chuckled, looking from his unsmiling partner to Martz. “You two about finished?”
He let go of me. I sat up and looked at Martz, sitting back on his bent legs. He nodded. I nodded. I started to stand and he decked me. It was a good punch. A wonderful punch. It kept me from standing up in a hurry.
“Now we’re done,” Ryan said.
The officer helped him up. The other one helped me scoot over to the curb. I sat there and waited until all the cars were gone. Sonia had gone, too.
It took a long while to remember how to stand, but walking came back to me with relative ease. Inside my building I leaned on the railing as I climbed the stairs.
In my office I sat at the table and went through the equipment I’d relocated from Wakeland & Chen headquarters. Cameras, case files, a Smith & Wesson revolver, a first aid kit. I brought out the latter. Triangle bandages and medical adhesive, scissors and aspirin and a bottle of distilled water. I took the aspirin and wet the bandages for a compress. The water was warm as fresh blood.