Saturday 10:35 A.M.

 

They went back to the station. They were still hours early for their regular shift. They noticed a black Lincoln Town car with a bodyguard/driver standing watch at its front bumper.

Fenwick asked, “Could that be the Superintendent’s car?”

“Don’t know. He doesn’t come visit me.”

Barb Dams appeared at the entrance and hurried down to them. She said, “The Superintendent is here. He and Molton want to meet with you.”

Fenwick said, “I feel more than special.”

She said, “You saved those kids.”

Fenwick said, “Next heroic thing, I walk away and leave the poor, innocent victim tied to the railroad tracks.”

Barb hurried ahead. They drifted into the station. Just inside the door, Fenwick said, “We better be careful what we say.”

Turner said, “Unfortunately, I agree.”

As they entered Molton’s office, both he and the Superintendent rose to greet them. Izzy Labato had become Superintendent of Police only a few months before. In the continuing uproar about the Chicago police, no one dared to take a bet on how long he would last in the job. He was a portly man in his late fifties with grizzled white hair. He extended his hand to them and said, “You both deserve the highest commendation and praise for a great many things.” He ticked them off. “You saved that teenager. You defused the situation at the bridge. You made sure those washrooms in the parking garage were open. Last night, you saved those children and that old man. I thank you. The department thanks you.”

They hadn’t even told Molton about the parking garage. They looked to Molton then back to the Superintendent who said, “I try to keep myself informed. And now they’re shooting at some of my best people. That pisses me off. I came down today to thank you for what you’ve done, and find out what I can do to help you out.” He pointed at Fenwick, “And to see if we can’t get you in front of the cameras. The press is hounding the mayor’s office and my office to try and get you to do publicity. It’s something positive, and we need positive, cops who the community trusts.”

Fenwick said, “I really think that would be a bad idea.”

The Superintendent said, “So I’ve heard.”

They took seats. The Superintendent sat next to Molton. They were behind the Commander’s desk. Turner and Fenwick sat in front. Barb Dams brought in servings of coffee for all. Drinks settled, the Superintendent asked, “What’s going on with the case?”

They gave them broad outline of what they’d been doing. When they finished, the superintendent said, “How can I help you gentlemen?”

Turner said, “We’re trying to clear a few things up. We’re nowhere near having any kind of evidence to make an arrest or name a suspect.”

He kept quiet about Monsignor Schneider’s revelations of this morning. He wasn’t about to over-confide in anybody.

“You think Carruthers killed those two men on the rooftop?”

Molton intervened, “Why don’t we let them explain their concerns?”

The Superintendent nodded.

Turner asked, “How did we get picked for that case? We need to find out the chain of evidence, phone calls. Who knew, who could have planned to kill them, and then have us be there.”

The Superintendent asked, “You really think this is that convoluted?”

Turner said, “We have to investigate it as if all of our paranoia is real. We can’t be ruled by our paranoia, but we have to act as if everything that’s happened is suspicious.”

The Superintendent looked at Molton who said, “I was told directly by Clayton Griffin to assign Turner and Fenwick to the shootings on the rooftop.”

The Superintendent said, “Yes, Griffin said he’d had calls from the local alderman, the district commander, and a slew of activists. I didn’t think to question whether or not what he was telling me was true.”

Fenwick asked, “Who put guards on me the first night in the hospital, on the Jackson family outside their kid’s hospital room, and tried to have someone listen in on us with Sanchez?”

“I didn’t,” Molton said.

“Not I,” the Superintendent said.

“Or put a guard on my street?” Turner asked.

Both officials shook their heads.

“Who would?”

“Most likely is Commander Palakowski of the local District.”

Fenwick said, “We need the names of who was on duty at the hospital when I was first there, and outside DeShawn’s room.”

Turner shook his head, “Or just get us the yearbook for three Districts closest to the hospital. I think it was the same guy. We can look at pictures and identify him.”

“We’ll need background when we identify him or them,” Molton said. “You sure it was the same guy both times?”

Turner said, “I think so.”

Fenwick said, “I didn’t see the guy when I was being treated. I’d recognize the other one.”

Molton said, “Dams can get whatever we need.”

Turner said, “We need to proceed as if this were a normal case, or cases. We need to talk to each of these people and find out which of them are connected with getting us put on this case.”

Fenwick said, “If they’ve got brains, they’d call their lawyers right after hearing from us.”

Turner said, “They will call to tattle on us.”

“They might call me first,” Molton said. “As a warning.”

“Or take us as an even greater threat.”

Fenwick brought up another point. “If we talk to them, they’ll think we’re wired.”

Molton said, “At this point, they’d be stupid to presume you weren’t.”

“Is this hopeless?” Fenwick asked. “We’ll meet the same Code of Silence that’s supposed to be protecting us.”

The Superintendent said, “They won’t like to be challenged, but it will scare them. No one is that confident of their power in any bureaucracy.”

“And the church?” Fenwick asked.

Molton said, “There’s a new cardinal. What the hell, talk to him.”

The Superintendent spoke. “You really think the Catholic Church is going to go that quietly? They’re known for secrecy.”

Fenwick said, “No one expects the Spanish Inquisition.”

In spite of himself, Turner smiled. He knew Fenwick was referring to one of his favorite bits of television comedy on Monty Python. When the Cardinals rush in and claim the church has various powers, finally deciding on saying their chief weapons are, surprise, fear, ruthless efficiency, an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope, and nice red uniforms.

The Superintendent raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” Fenwick said, “not important.”

The Superintendent gave a ghost of a smile himself. He said, “I know Monty Python. Unfortunately, Carruthers is very Catholic and very much active in his church, and there is real power and real danger there.” He harrumphed and took a sip of coffee then said, “We already presume there’s a conspiracy against you, or the presumption that there is one is strong. To let them know we know, I don’t think that gives them power.”

Molton said, “It might scare some. The weak links. They’ll be scrambling to destroy their weak links, or be certain of their silence, or assure the weak links that all will be well.”

“Can the conspiracy be that immense?” Fenwick asked.

Shrugs around the room.

Turner said, “We’ve got to find out who the expert shots are in the department.”

Molton said, “I can get you raw data on possibilities. The top sharpshooters in each class at the academy for the last fifty years.”

The Superintendent asked, “Why bother to make this all that convoluted?”

Turner said, “My guess is, it didn’t start out that way. They wanted to prevent what we’re doing now. They wanted us scared and frightened.”

Fenwick asked, “Why not just kill us and be done with it?”

Molton asked, “An outright murder of cops? Tough to sell. And you’ve got that heroic shit in the last couple days.”

Fenwick asked, “A sneaky murder of cops is better?”

Nobody bothered to answer.

Turner asked, “We found those CPD dash cams in Shaitan’s hotel room. What if he or some group of protesters were in it with the cops?”

Molton said, “All to protect Carruthers?”

Turner said, “So far we have no forensics or proof for any of this.”

Fenwick asked, “When they call to complain about us, are you going to back us up?”

Both administrators said yes.

Fenwick said, “If these people are as all-powerful as we are positing, then will we live to see another day?”

The Superintendent said, “They can’t be omnipotent.”

Fenwick said, “All they need to do is either be a better shot, or stop trying to dick around with us.”

Molton said, “All of a sudden, they’re graced with omnipotence? I think not.”

The Superintendent said, “Enough potence to snuff you out, I’m guessing, or close to it. You know a bureaucracy can crush you as well as anyone.”

Fenwick said, “They haven’t been able to save Carruthers.”

“Yet.” The Superintendent mused. “You do know that dirt is flying in your direction as well. You saved yourselves by saving those kids.”

“Wasn’t our fault,” Fenwick said.

“But close enough to be heroes. Because you both made split second decisions that saved lives, you may have saved your own, or at least made it more complicated for powerful people in this town to get even with you.”