On The Beat (Goosey Larsen Book 3) (9 page)

Jim smiled in sympathy, but shook his head. “If I were you, and thank the good Lord that I’m not, I wouldn’t make any more misdemeanor arrests than you were actually forced to. The only thing those’ll get you is a string of early morning court appearances. I might be getting old or something, but eight-thirty in the AM just seems to be coming way too early these days. Besides, if you went out on the street and starting cleaning house on all those worthless bums, people might think that you’re actually enjoying your current assignment. That sort of positive attitude sends the wrong kind of message when you’re bucking for a transfer.”

I nodded at his sage advice. I could’ve kept right on complaining about the unfairness of life in general, but my dispatcher was rude enough to interrupt our conversation once again. “Control to 714, Seven-One-Four. Did you copy on the call at Waterfront Park?”

Jim smiled, clearly taking a great deal of joy from my misery. I shook my head in disgust as I unclipped my radio one last time. “Control, I say again, 714 copies. En route.” The snippy response seemed to satisfy her, so I tucked my walkie-talkie safely back into its holder. “Boss, I’ve got to take this call but I’ll be back. Maybe running these bums off will help me work up a good appetite.”

I could tell by his stern glare that Jim didn’t approve of my decision. He jerked a hairy thumb towards the kitchen, where that cute little waitress was headed our way holding a huge platter. Both of our orders were perched on top, the plates sending up trails of hot steam that set my mouth watering. “Get your priorities straight, Goosey! You need to focus on the things that are actually within your control. The way I see it, there’s no way you could ever stop all the crime downtown, no matter how many times you might care to walk your happy little ass around the block. But, one thing that you actually can do is to make sure you keep your stomach full throughout your shift. Start paying attention to your blood sugar, man! Trust me, that diabetes is nothing to fool around with.”

I nodded at his wisdom as I gazed longingly at the serving of hot wings being laid before me. The waitress set my plate down on the table ever so gently, almost as if it were some kind of sacred offering. The wings were dripping with grease, fat, and extra hot sauce, just the way I liked them. There was a double order of blue cheese dressing on the side, along with a few thin celery sticks thrown down there for decoration. By that point, it took all of my willpower and discipline to make my body stand upright and start my legs moving towards the door. “Just doing my best to stay gainfully employed” I said. “You never know if Shakey McShivers might be out cruising the block, looking to check up on me. You know, for some strange reason I don’t think I’ve gotten on his good side yet.”

Jim snorted in disgust. “The only good side that douchebag has is his rear end, and that’s only because when you see it you know that he’s heading away from you.”

I had to laugh, but I still made sure to keep my feet heading towards the exit. “Keep those babies warm for me while I’m gone, boss. This shouldn’t take more than a minute or two.”

I glanced back and saw Jim nod in acknowledgement. Most of his face had disappeared, concealed beneath the giant hamburger in his paws. The first mouthful had already disappeared from sight and was bobbing up and down in his jaw.

Just as I got to the exit, though, I was stopped in my tracks by another sudden thought. I’d been on the job for over twelve years at that point, but I just couldn’t seem to put a face to any cop by the name of Gonzales. We had at least three hundred sworn police officers at the department and sometimes it seems like people come and go as they please, but I definitely would have known the dude if he’d ever spent any time as a detective. While I held the door open, I called back over the rising noise of all the other diners. “Hey, Jim! Whatever happened to that guy you said made his escape from foot patrol? Gonzales?”

Big Jim stopped chewing. He swallowed the quarter section of burger he’d been working on and washed it down with a huge slug of sweet tea. “Dude lasted about three more months before he got himself canned. One of the other detectives caught him downloading kiddie porn from his office computer. Handcuffed him on the spot and marched him straight downstairs to the jail.”

I shook my head in disbelief. No wonder I’d never heard of the guy but still, although I honestly should’ve known better. This was just one more example of the only way cops could get fired from CPD, by taking the initiative and getting the job done themselves. I shouted, “You’ll have to fill me in on that one when I get back!” as I ducked out of the restaurant and set off down the sidewalk at a slow trot.

6.

Since Waterfront Park was only one block over from East Bay Street, I jaywalked my way through the stopped traffic in order to save time. With any luck, I could be sitting back in front of my plate before my wings had time to get cold. As hungry as I was, though, I brought my pace down to a respectable crawl out of sheer habit. There was no sense in hurrying to any call, but especially not one where any suspicious activity was involved. In general, the longer you took in getting to a location, the more likely it was that the suspects would already be packed up and gone by the time you arrived. If you rush and show up too quickly, you run the risk of meeting up with a criminal and actually having to do some policework.

No such luck
, I thought to myself, as I crested the wide stairway which marked the park’s main entrance. I caught sight of two dark silhouettes sitting on a bench about fifty yards away, huddled close in together beneath the dark shadows of a palmetto tree. Remembering that I’d actually bothered to pack a flashlight that night, I clicked it on in a last-ditch attempt at scaring away the evildoers. It didn’t work. The pair seemed to jump in surprise at the interruption, but neither took off running like I’d hoped. They chose to remain frozen in place instead, clearly caught off guard by the unexpected presence of an authority figure. Even from a distance, I could plainly see that the couple was an older white guy paired with a young black kid, which makes for a pretty odd mix in downtown Charleston. Segregation is still a customary practice in this city, even though participation has been mostly voluntary since that whole civil rights nonsense went into effect.

As I made my slow and deliberate approach, I noticed that the older guy had some kind of a nylon duffle bag lying on the ground at his feet. It was a beat-up gym bag, and it looked noticeably out of place compared to the sharp blue blazer he was wearing. As for the kid, he was young and black. As if that by itself wasn’t enough of an outward indication of his low socio-economic status, he was dressed in a full set of chef’s whites which could have come from any one of the thousand or so restaurants nearby. He looked nearly as frightened as the white guy, and in this part of town that sort of fear could only mean one thing: I must have accidentally stumbled across a gay hookup in progress!

See, one of the unique downfalls of the Charleston area is all the beautiful old historic buildings in the city. There’s a ton of scenic parks and green spaces, along with a whole mess of history and culture and other crap. You mix all that stuff together in one place, and invariably it becomes a perfect formula for attracting all those “alternative lifestyle” types. Now I’ve never been particularly bothered by the huge number of art galleries or all the high-end gift boutiques that seem to spring up out of nowhere, but the blatant homosexual cruising and illicit casual hookups were another matter entirely. Since there’s only one or two openly acknowledged gay bars within the city limits, public places like the Battery and Waterfront Park have always been treated as unofficial meat markets by dudes in search of a fifteen-minute love affair. It’s all done in pretty poor taste, if you ask me.

I shuddered at the thought of the heinous acts I might have had to witness if I’d shown up just five minutes later, but quickly shook off my disgust. Armed with my best game face, I quickly marched forward to deal with the situation. These two lovebirds were in my beat so at the moment they were technically my problem, but there was no policy that said I couldn’t just set them walking a couple blocks further south. Once they stepped off the curb at South Adger’s Wharf, those dudes would have to face the wrath of Team Two’s rookie patrol cops. With that stroke of genius in mind I quickly closed the gap, coming to a halt about ten yards away. The distance was just close enough for us to chat comfortably, but still far enough away that I couldn’t honestly testify to seeing any petty contraband they might have had. I called out to them with my sternest voice of authority, “I’m sorry folks, but the park’s closed. I’m going to have to ask you two to leave.”

The white dude stood up first, giving me a quick nod of friendly submission. As his face came into the full light of the gas lantern overhead, I felt a surprise at seeing none other than Duke Regan in front of me. It was simply unbelievable! I mean, everyone knew that those old-money society types had some odd character quirks and all, but I’d never for one minute pegged Regan to be a down-low queer. Judging by how fast he stood up, though, the dude was clearly looking to avoid the embarrassment that would have come from an adverse encounter with the cops. “Absolutely, Officer Larsen” he said. “It’s no trouble at all.”

I returned his nod, making sure to maintain my most professional bearing. It was a tough job, but laughing in his face would have only served to prolong the encounter. “Thank you, sir. I really appreciate your cooperation, especially in light of everything you went through yesterday.”

Regan nodded again, his chin moving up and down like a steady, rhythmic metronome. “Very unfortunate, yes. Cost of doing business, though. Mmm-hmm.”

I guess that getting caught in the act must have stripped away some of Regan’s usual arrogance, since he wasn’t nearly as chatty as he’d been the day before. It was actually kind of awkward to see him acting so polite, since humility wasn’t a trait that suited him. His young boyfriend must have been trying to compensate for this behavior, because the kid seized the opportunity to give me some lip. He looked me straight in the eye, with this false look of innocent confusion painted across his dark face. “But Officer, the sign out front says that the park is open until midnight.” He glanced down at his watch, some blingy-looking chrome number that probably would have set me back a month’s pay. “It’s only just now nine o’clock.”

Before I had the opportunity to remind the kid of his station in life, Regan stepped in and clapped a firm hand down on his companion’s shoulder. I felt my own shoulders shudder a little at that disgusting public display of affection. Now I’m no bigot, let me be clear on that— I’ve got absolutely no problem at all with homosexuals, just as long as I don’t have to be around them. Yeah, it was probably better for everyone concerned that Duke Regan seemed to be doing my job for me, even if the dude did happen to be a closet chickenhawk. “Come, Antoine” he said in this soft, sugar daddy tone of voice. “Let’s just do as this nice officer says.”

But little Antoine kept his seat. The kid looked back up at me with an expression of amused defiance that sent my blood pressure skyrocketing, and it was a struggle to stay calm as I schooled him to the facts of life. “Son, there’s been quite a rash of criminal activity in the park lately, so I’ve been instructed to increase my patrols around the area. For your own safety, it’s probably better that the two of you find another place to…” I paused, glancing at my suspects. Regan’s hand was still solidly in place on Antoine’s shoulder, his fingers applying firm, steady pressure. “…spend time together.” The two of them went silent as they considered my words. The kid wasn’t arguing anymore but since he still didn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry to move toward the exit, I had no choice but to turn up the pressure of my sales pitch. “My boss really wanted me to make a few arrests to show our increased presence in the park, but I personally don’t see what that would accomplish. At most, we’d be creating some completely unnecessary paperwork. I mean, does anyone really need written proof that all three of us were out here together this evening?” It was technically a true statement, even though I had absolutely no intention of taking a couple twinks into custody as long as I still had the option of just running them down the street.

The threat of an arrest was all it took to get Antoine moving, and the couple started heading out of the park the same way I’d come in. Regan’s strong, manicured hand was still gripping his lover’s skinny black shoulder. As I took a long look around the park bench, I shook my head in disbelief that anyone with the slightest amount of common sense could be so brazen. That section of the park was actually a pretty quiet spot, though, so I added it to my mental file of locations for extended lunch breaks. But only a second later, it suddenly occurred to me that something was seriously wrong. The two of them had made it almost halfway to the staircase when I called out, “Hey, Regan! FREEZE!”

Antoine was visibly startled by my shout. It looked as if he could’ve jumped sky-high if Mr. Regan hadn’t been there to hold him in place. After what seemed like five whole seconds, Regan finally turned back around to face me. “Yes, Officer Larsen? Is there something wrong?”

I held myself back from rolling my eyes. See, that’s the problem with all these upright, law-abiding white folks. Those kinds of people are so unaccustomed to dealing with cops that you can’t even have a conversation without creating the impression that they’re seconds away from going to jail. “You bet there is” I said. I flashed him my best Officer Friendly smile in a shameless attempt at sneaking past his defenses. “Sir, you almost walked off without your bag!”

Regan just stared at me for another long moment before his eyes shot down to his duffel bag, still lying beneath the park bench. It almost seemed as if he was frozen in place, and to tell the truth I wasn’t sure if he intended to answer me at all. After a long pause, one that seemed equally awkward for all parties, I caught my mind wandering back to the plate of chicken wings I’d left at the South End Brewery. Seizing the initiative, I snatched up the bag myself and walked it over to him. He still didn’t reach out to take it, though, and it began to get heavy. With another quick step forward, I closed the gap and thrust the bag at his chest. “Here you go, sir! You wouldn’t want to forget this, now would you?”

I watched Regan’s face soften by the slightest margin, no doubt thanks to my overly helpful manners. He wrapped his arms around the bag to hold it snug against his body. “Yes, thank you, Officer…” His eyes squinted in the dim light as he peered down at my nametag once again, almost as if the stress of the encounter had caused him to forget my name already. “Larsen. I truly appreciate your concern, young man.”

I gave him one of my most professional law enforcement nods. It was a quick move, one where I dipped my chin down for only a split second before bringing it right back up again. “It’s no problem at all, Mr. Regan, but you two lovebirds run along now. Y’all be safe getting back home…or wherever it is you decide to go. Personally, I really don’t care, just so long as it’s somewhere other than here.”

Duke Regan quickly turned around, but now it was Antoine’s turn to gape at me with a blank stare of confusion on his dark face. It looked like the poor kid had a mind to say something, but his sugar daddy wisely pulled him along before his gums could start flapping. The two of them hustled off towards Vendue Range, walking with linked arms just like any other loving couple would, at least until they reached the park exit. I had to smile as I watched the cute pair break off, hurrying along on their separate ways. Once the two of them were safely out of sight, I shook my head in disgust and scrubbed my hands clean in the Pineapple Fountain. I’m not really sure if you can actually catch a sexually transmitted disease just from touching a homosexual’s property, but I’ve always thought you can never be too careful about stuff like that. A double dose of caution was definitely in order, especially since I didn’t have any more sick days left in the bank.

That done, I wiped my hands dry on my pants and cleared the call over the radio before charting my own course out of the area. The crowds of drunks on the sidewalk tried their best to look reasonably sober as I shouldered past, pushing and elbowing my way back to the South End Brewery. The trip was slow going, and when I finally arrived at the restaurant I was just in time to spot Big Jim barreling out the front door. Even from a distance, I could plainly see the ring of fiery red hot sauce that coated his lips. My heart sank in despair.

Jim spotted me and waved. It was a cheerful greeting, one that could only come from a man who was well-fed. “Hey there, Supercop!” he shouted. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming back or not, so I went ahead and polished off your wings. But don’t worry, I already settled up the tab! You can pay me back later.”

I crossed the street in order for my old boss to get a better view of my evil stare, although he didn’t seem to notice. “Jim” I said, biting back all the curse words which were running through my mind, “You’re really something else, you know that?”

Big Jim just smiled. Either he’d completely missed the true meaning of my words, or his eyesight had deteriorated to the point where he just couldn’t recognize an expression of absolute fury. “That’s what they tell me, Loosey Goosey! But hey, listen, I’m about to head out of here for the night.” He waddled around to his cruiser and popped open the driver’s side door. Jim had left it unlocked like usual, with the windows rolled down and the keys still in the ignition. “You try not to work too hard, okay kid?”

“What? Leaving already?” I gestured an arm toward the masses of drunks who were swarming all around us. The younger generation was really starting to come out in force, at least now that the ten o’clock hour had passed. “You’re going to miss all the fun, man!”

He smiled again, and I caught a glimpse of the thick layers of yellow plaque which coated his teeth. They were a dark shade of amber, and they made it seem almost as if Jim had some kind of unique habit of brushing his teeth with a jar of Dijon mustard. “Oh, don’t you worry about me” he said. “I imagine I’ll be back out here tomorrow night, but with a green beer in my hand instead of a ticket book. Some of us haven’t completely trashed our careers, you know, and we still get every weekend off.”

I couldn’t help laughing in spite of my misery, since the very thought of Jim wielding a ticket book was absolutely ridiculous. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him take any kind of law enforcement action, unless of course you count his frequent patrols around the hallways for the purpose of keeping up on the latest gossip. “Yeah, yeah, don’t rub it in, boss. And hey, I meant what I said about that job. Keep me in mind if anything comes open upstairs. I’d even consider working crimes against persons.” I gave a little shudder at the thought of having to spend my days taking written statements from sobbing assault victims, but did my best to conceal any outward signs of revulsion.