Robert Crais - L.A. Requiem

I tried to pick up my gun with my left hand. Sobek didn't even seem to know I was there anymore. He was focused on Krantz.

“I MEAN IT GODDAMNIT KRANTZ I'M GONNA DO IT I'M GONNA DO IT RIGHT NOW BLOW HER BRAINS OUT AND THEN I'M GONNA KILL MYSELF I DON'T CARE I DON'T CARE!”

It is against LAPD policy for an officer to give up his or her weapon. They teach that at the Academy, they live by it, and it is the right thing to teach and live by. You give up your weapon, and you're done.

But if you don't do what Laurence Sobek says, and someone dies, you will always wonder. It is another choice and another door, and you won't know what lies behind it until you go there.

He was going to kill her.

“Okay, Curtis. Just let her go and we'll talk. I'm putting the gun down like you want. Just don't hurt her, Curtis. Please do not hurt her.”

Krantz put his gun on the floor, and for the second time that day I liked Harvey Krantz.

I spoke quietly. “Sobek? Why'd you kill Dersh? He wasn't part of this?”

Crazy eyes danced to me. “Pike killed Dersh. Don't you watch the news?”

Krantz said, “Shut up, Cole. Curtis, put down the gun. Please.”

Sobek walked Paulette closer to Krantz, shaking his head. “I'm not done yet. They're going to pay for the Coopster. They're going to pay for that.”

Behind Sobek, Pike moved.

I said, “Tell us about Dersh, Sobek. Tell us why you set up Pike.”

Sobek pointed his gun at me, and cocked the hammer. “I didn't.”

Pike's eyes opened.

Krantz said, “Damnit, Cole, shut up. Curtis, don't kill him. Let this woman go.”

Pike pushed himself up. His face was a mask of blood. His shirt was wet with it. He picked up his gun.

Sobek said, “She's gotta die, and Wozniak's kid is gonna die, too. But you know what, Harvey?”

“What?”

Sobek aimed his .357 point-blank at Harvey Krantz.

“You're gonna die first.”

I said, “DeVille isn't dead.”

Laurence Sobek stopped as if I'd hit him with a board. His face filled with rage, he aimed his gun at me again, then brought it back to Krantz. I could see his gun hand tighten.

He said, “This is for killing my father.”

Krantz yelled, “NO!”

Sobek was squeezing the trigger when Joe Pike brought up his weapon and fired one round through the back of Laurence Sobek's head. Sobek collapsed in a heap, and then there was silence.

Pike fell forward onto his hands, and almost at once tried to push himself up again.

Paulette said, “Joe, lie down. Please lie down.”

Krantz just stood there. I could hear the sirens far away now, but drawing closer.

I struggled to my feet and went to Joe. Blood ran down my arm and dripped from my fingers.

“Stay down, Joseph. Got an ambulance on the way.”

Pike said, “No. If I go down now, I'll spend the rest of my life in prison. Right, Krantz?”

Krantz said, “You're going to bleed to death.”

Pike found his feet and stood, using Paulette to steady himself. He put his pistol into the waistband of his pants, then looked at me. “You're shot.”

“You're shot twice.”

Pike nodded. “It's so easy to show you up.”

He staggered then, but I caught him.

Paulette said, “Please, Joe.” She was crying.

Pike was looking at me. “Maybe there'll be something at Sobek's to put him with Dersh.”

“There wasn't.”

Pike looked tired. He took a handkerchief from his pants, but the blood had soaked through and it was red.

Paulette Wozniak said, “Oh, damn.”

She pulled off her shirt and used it to wipe his face. She was wearing a white bra, but nobody looked or said anything, and I thought in that moment I could love her myself, truly and always.

The corner of Joe's mouth twitched, and he touched her face. “Gotta go.”

Paulette blinked at the tears.

Joe let his fingers linger. “You really are more beautiful.”

Then he turned away for the door, leaving his fingerprints in blood on her face.

Krantz said, “I can't let you go, Pike. I appreciate what you did, and I'll stand up at your trial, but for now it's over.”

Krantz had his gun again. He was pale, and shaken, but he had the gun.

I said, “Don't be stupid, Krantz.”

“It's over.”

Pike kept walking.

Krantz aimed his gun, but it was shaking as badly now as when he was aiming at Sobek. “I mean it, Pike. You're a wanted man. You are under arrest, and you're going to stand trial. I won't let you leave this house.”

Krantz steadied the gun with his second hand, and pulled back the hammer, and that's when I twisted the gun away from him with my good hand. I shoved him against the wall.

Krantz screamed, “You're interfering with an officer, goddamnit! You're obstructing justice!”

Pike walked out the front door without closing the door, and then he was gone.

I said, “Goodbye, Joe.”

Krantz slumped to the floor and put his face in his hands. The sirens were working their way up the hill and would soon arrive. They would probably pass Pike on their way up, and I wondered if any of them would notice the car driven by the bloody man. Probably not.

Krantz said, “You shouldn't've done that, Cole. You aided and abetted his escape. I'm going to arrest you. It's going to cost your license.”

I nodded.

“You didn't help him, you asshole. He's going to bleed to death. He's going to die.”

The sirens arrived.

Of the two shots Sobek fired at Jerome Williams, only one connected, nipping an artery in his thigh. He would make it. My own wound was a bit more complicated. The bullet had torn through the outside of my right pectoral muscle, clipped the third lateral rib, then exited through my right latissimus dorsi. One of the hospital's resident surgeons came down to take a look, and said, “Hmm.”

You have to worry when they say that.

“I can clean you up,” he said. “But you're going to need some reconstructive surgery to the muscle group. Your pectoris attacher tendon is partially sheared, and the anterior joint capsule needs to be repaired.”

“How long will that take?”

“Four hours, tops.”

“Not how long will the surgery take. How long would I have to be here?”

“Three days.”

“Forget it.”

“Just want you to know the score. I gotta put you out anyway to take care of this.”

“Just give me a local. You're not putting me anywhere, and I'm not going out.” I wanted to be awake to find out about Pike. I figured they'd find him bled out on the side of a road. I wanted to be awake when the word came because I wanted to go to him.

“It's going to hurt like a sonofabitch with just a local.”

“Pretend you're a dentist and shoot me up, for chrissake.”

He gave me about two thousand injections, then cleaned the wound, and stitched the muscles and skin. It hurt worse than he said, but maybe it wasn't just the shoulder.

When he was done, he said, “I'm giving you a Percocet script for the pain. You're going to need it. When the anesthetic wears off you're going to hurt even worse. This is strong stuff, so be sure you take just what I'm writing here. You need to see your own doctor tomorrow.”

“I'll be in jail.”

He sighed again and handed me the prescription. “Take twice as much.”

He used thirty-two stitches to close the wound.

Krantz officially arrested me in the Palm Springs Hospital emergency room while Williams was in surgery. Stan Watts had driven out, and he stood there with a blank expression as Krantz read me the rights. Krantz said, “Stan, I'm having him brought to County-USC so they can look at him. Maybe they'll want to book him in the jail ward there, and keep him overnight.”