Jeff Sherratt - Detour to Murder

“He had a gun and we’ll find it.” His voice bore a tone of finality.

“Everyone’s been pinning crap on Al Roberts for the last twenty-nine years. You won’t find anything, because he didn’t have a weapon. I think the rookie got scared, panicked, and started blasting away. And I think you know it.”

His face went through a series of contortions, settling on one that looked like the ugly countenance of a dyspeptic gorilla. Russo was obviously a man accustomed to getting his way, with everyone kissing his ass. “O’Brien, I’m in charge around here and I said we’ll do a goddamn investigation. In Laguna we do it right, we don’t screw around. Listen up, wise guy; I was on the job when you were a brat with shit in your diapers, sucking at your mama’s tit!”

Though totally pissed off I fought to maintain my composure, but the sanctimonious asshole was getting to me. “Yeah sure, you’ll find a weapon,” I said. “I was a cop once. I know how it goes. All of a sudden one of your men will find a gun with no serial numbers buried on the beach somewhere behind the rocks.”

Russo was, to put it mildly, appalled at my assertion. He jabbed his finger in my chest. “Don’t you ever accuse me of compromising an investigation! Down here we play it strictly by the book. I don’t care how they handle shit up there in big bad L.A. County.” He looked down his nose at me. “We don’t need to plant a gun. Roberts had one and we’ll find it, even if we have to dredge the whole goddamn Pacific Ocean.”

I walked away from Russo, taking Kathie with me. We stood at a window at the far end of the lobby and looked out at the black sea beyond the edge of shimmering lights. Putting my arm gently around her shoulders I said, “Al Roberts will make it. He’s too damn stubborn to die.”

She glanced up at me. “What will I tell my mother? I won’t know what to say. It will kill her if something happens to Al.”

“Tell her the truth. Treat her like a human being for once. It seems to me everyone has been dealing with her like she’s some kind of biological unit that must be fed, watered, and stowed away out of sight. First, your father used her as a sex object. Then he got tired of her and threw her out. Then it was…” Slow down, O’Brien, I told myself. You’re attacking this girl’s family and it’s none of your business .

I felt Kathie’s back stiffen. But she said nothing and continued to stare out the window.

“I’m sorry, Kathie. I didn’t mean to be so blunt.”

“I just don’t know what to do. I’m so confused,” she whispered, more to herself than to me.

“Maybe after your mother hit bottom, just maybe, if she had been given proper care she might’ve been cured a long time ago. She might’ve had a decent life.”

Her eyes flared. “How dare you? You have no idea what I’ve been through. All my life knowing my own mother had been a junkie and a whore. Left for dead in a gutter-”

“You have to understand, I’m not talking about you. You were just a kid when it all started and you came to the situation as an adult not all that long ago. I’m talking about Jerome, your grandparents, the doctors, and those damn trust fund trustees. You know what I’m saying.”

She put her face in her hands and leaned forward. With my arm still around her shoulders I could feel her silent, racking sobs.

Maybe it wasn’t the best time or place, but I had to speak my mind, get out what I felt inside. “Listen to me, Kathie. Back in 1945, your mother was a young, immature girl with stars in her eyes. She came to California with hopes and dreams. When she got here, she was used, abused, and tossed aside like a broken porcelain doll. Her only fault was that she was a beautiful young woman. You told me yourself about the change that came over her when, in just a few short days, Roberts showed her a little respect and attention. But even more than that he gave her his greatest gift-his love.”

She looked up at me again. “Oh, Jimmy. I know it’s been awful the way they’ve treated my mother. I wanted to help, and she was improving… but now, without Al Roberts… The shock alone…”

I squeezed her shoulder tighter. “This is important, Kathie. Regardless of what happens with Roberts, get your mother off the drugs, get her out of Vista Del Muerto , and give her a life, for chrissakes. She’s still young enough-”

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned. The surgeon stood behind me, still wearing his light green scrubs. He looked both drawn and serious. Captain Russo and Sgt. Coleman stood off to the side, watching us.

“Excuse me, but the receptionist pointed you out. You’re Mr. O’Brien, the lawyer.”

“How’d it go in surgery? Is he gonna live, doctor?”

“He’s awake, just barely. We told him that you were waiting. He wants to see you. Normally we wouldn’t allow visitors this soon after a major operation, but…”

“But what?”

“It doesn’t look good. He might not make it through the night.”

A nurse escorted me alonga semi-dark hallway. Only a few of the fluorescent lights embedded in the ceiling were shining at that time of night, and a powerful antiseptic smell cut through the cool hospital air as we followed the signs directing us to the ICU.

On the way, I had second thoughts about the cops waiting in the lobby. Maybe my response had been way overboard when I practically accused Russo of planning to perpetrate a cover-up. The shock from news of the shooting, and the tension that had been building within me since the day I had taken on the Roberts case, had more than likely caused the explosive reaction. But cops and criminal defense lawyers were never on comfortable terms. It was only natural, since we operated at different ends of the legal spectrum.

I knew I’d have to cut Russo some slack. He was as hard as tempered steel, but he had a difficult job to do. For all I knew, he did it well. I had no reason to question his integrity. But that still didn’t mean I’d let him interrogate Roberts without me being present, and I wouldn’t let Al make a statement regarding anything that happened out there on the beach. He could still be charged with resisting arrest. A minor charge compared to the murder rap staring him in the face; but a criminal charge nonetheless, which would be just another reason to toss his butt back in the can.

There were almost two hundred separate municipalities located around Southern California. A number of these cities and towns had their own police departments, and more than a few had been tainted at one time or another. Throughout most of its early history even the illustrious LAPD had been riddled with corruption. And it remained that way until 1950 when the new chief, William H. Parker, took the reins and tossed out the political swindlers and outright crooks.

But from what I’d heard, the Laguna Beach PD had a sterling reputation. Never in its forty-seven year history had there been even the slightest hint of scandal. And somehow I knew the facts regarding the shooting, good or bad, would be made public. There would be no cover-up.

I also thought about Kathie and her dysfunctional family. I’d unloaded heavily on her as well. But I didn’t regret one word I’d said. Of course, I couldn’t blame her for her mother and father’s horrible behavior in the past, but someone-and that someone was me, I guess-had to open her eyes to the facts, even if I had to rub her face in it.

Maybe I got through to Kathie. And maybe, if nothing else, when this was all over, she’d finally take charge of the situation and lead her mother down that yellow brick road to happiness. It would be nice if Al Roberts were able to share that journey. However, at this moment there were two chances of that happening: slim and fat.