James Patterson - Blindside

“Nope. Separate investigation. I’m just a subject in that one.”

“The Reverend Caldwell sees it different. He’s got everyone in the Bronx thinking you just kilt that boy. I knew RJ. He wasn’t a bad kid.”

“He made a bad choice.”

“The good reverend says you’re a killer.”

I thought, At least I’m not dead . It was hard for anyone to understand a police shooting. Cops make mistakes. They’re human. But they also have to deal with something like fifty thousand assaults a year. How many of those would result in police fatalities if not for training? No one would ever convince the Reverend Caldwell of that line of reasoning.

I walked out of Convent Garden feeling down again.

CHAPTER 17

HARRY GRISSOM WAScurt on the phone. He said he’d pick me up at my apartment in twenty minutes. I told him I needed forty-five to get ready. Really, I needed to race home and act like I hadn’t done any unauthorized investigations today.

Harry was his usual gruff self when I slid into the front seat of his Suburban. “No questions. No smart-ass comments. And show some respect.”

I had to ask, “Where are we going?”

“What did I just tell you? Enjoy the ride.”

“That’s what they used to tell inmates on their way to Sing Sing.”

“That’s a good metaphor. Even if you just made it up.”

That didn’t make me feel any better as we drove south on West Street. Like a little kid, to make sure I didn’t ask stupid questions, I tried to occupy myself. I guessed where we were going. We had passed the building that housed the DEA, which eliminated one choice.

Of course One Police Plaza was the most likely stop. That’s where the big brass could really lay into me if they thought it might help their position. The public opinion shift on cops was slow to sweep over the profession. But now that it had, some politically minded managers would do anything to make the department look better. That could mean sacrificing a detective like me. Oh, they’d say it was based on facts and evidence, but I’d know better. And there would be little I could do about it.

This line of thought raised my anxiety. A lot. Now I was nervous.

Then Harry turned east on Chambers Street and I knew we were headed to One Police Plaza. All the thoughts I’d just had seemed to be coming true. Then he surprised me by taking a right on Broadway and pulling into the City Hall complex.

“What’s going on, Harry?” I could tell he was considering what he should tell me. “I feel like I’m headed to a firing squad.”

We passed through security and Harry pulled into a spot right by City Hall. He turned to me and said, “You’re going to be cleared on the shooting. We’ve got the suspect’s pistol and two casings. We have security video from the bodega that shows everything. Forensics all check out. Plus, everyone knows you’re not a rookie. But IA and the officials here wanted to make sure everything was done right and covered properly.”

I felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest. I wanted to kiss Harry right on the cheek. I didn’t care what kind of stubble he had.

I said, “That’s great. When can I get back to work? I’ve got a lot to catch up on.” Tight was the main thing on my mind. I had to find the skinny psychopath and get the truth about the murder of the nurse and her daughter. The image of the crime scene was burned into my memory. And Mrs. Evans breaking down and crying at her sons’ apartment would never leave my head. It was the best motivation a cop could have.

“Can you run me by the office to get my car?”

“Slow down, Mike. It’s a complicated situation. The mayor’s office has some concerns about how the public would view a return so quick.”

“You mean it’s politics.”

“You can call it anything you want, but we have a meeting in here right now. You’re going to talk to the mayor himself.”

“The LFP! No shit.”

“If I get the sense you’re even thinking of saying the words ‘little fat prick,’ I will personally throw your kids’ cat off the balcony and let you deal with the chaos.”

“You’d do that to Socky?”

“After I did it to you.”

Normally I’d think that was kind of a funny comment. Coming from Harry Grissom it felt more like a realistic threat.

I recognized a couple of cops in uniform. They all patted me on the back or shoulder. It wasn’t the kind of greeting I usually got. But what they were really saying was they were glad I was alive, even if it meant someone else was dead.

We took the stairs to the third floor and turned down a long corridor. We stopped at an office with a sign that said office of the mayor, communications.

I started to ask Harry why we were here.

He shut me up with just a look.

He knocked once, then opened the door.

There were three people in the large, plush office. A woman stepped up and offered her hand.

“I’m Carol Tedesco, director of communications.” She was polished and professional. She looked like she could be TV-ready at any moment.

The thin man in wire-rimmed glasses didn’t bother to stand up straight from the table he was leaning on. He just waved and said, “Clark Higson, assistant to the mayor.”

Then the other man stepped over to me and offered a pudgy paw. He said, “Alfred Hanna. Nice to meet you.”

He wasn’t quite as short as I’d thought he would be.

CHAPTER 18

ALFRED HANNA HADslipped into the mayor’s office by the thinnest of margins. Every cop in the city used the term LFP , for little fat prick , to refer to him. I had even heard LFP used on the radio. Since his election, he had managed to piss off virtually all city workers, the Puerto Rican population, Staten Island residents, and even tourists, when he’d referred to a group from Arkansas touring City Hall as “a bunch of rednecks.” Nothing anyone else in the city wouldn’t have said. But the mayor was held to a higher standard. Barely.

In short, Alfred Hanna was a true New Yorker.

He ran a nervous hand over his slicked-back, dark hair. A long blue tie did little to cover his extended belly. He looked a little like a chipmunk in an Armani suit.

He reached up to put his arm across my shoulders. “We need to keep this meeting as quiet as possible. That’s why we’re not in my office. Is that understood?”

Both Harry and I mumbled, “Yes, sir.”

He released me and turned to face all of us. He looked at me and said, “I’m very proud of your service to the city. I’m sorry you got put in a position like you did. I know you acted well within policy and did everything you could not to shoot that young man.”

I didn’t get excited at his little speech. Anyone could tell there was a but coming. Harry gave me a really good command stare to keep me quiet.

Mayor Hanna continued. “The problem is that the Timmons family is quite popular. The fact that they brought in Reverend Caldwell means they’re not going to listen to the results of any investigation. They’re also not going to disappear. That means you returning to your regular job would not only look bad for the city, it also could be dangerous for you.”

I said, “You don’t think a cop’s job is dangerous anyway?” I hadn’t meant to put the edge in my voice.

“Okay, more dangerous than usual. Look, my grandfather on my mother’s side was a cop in Queens. I understand the hardships you guys go through.”

It surprised me the mayor had a family member who’d been a cop, but it didn’t surprise me that he actually thought he knew. Everyone thought they understood the job.

The mayor said, “I don’t want to send the wrong message to our city’s police officers. I don’t want them to step back. I don’t advocate less proactive policing. I also don’t think you should have to go back to work looking over your shoulder for a retribution attack. Not when we have an alternative.”