Frank Zafiro - Under a Raging Moon

Katie took a deep breath and let it out, trying not to sigh. “You’re saying that the Bailey children assaulted your oldest son, and that the father somehow encourages this behavior?”

“Yes!” She lowered her voice conspiratorially and gave Katie another nod. “He doesn’t work, you know. Goes out all night drinking, then comes home and sleeps all day. Must be on welfare, the lot of them.”

“I see. And what’s your oldest child’s name?”

“Brian.”

“And where is Brian now?”

She gave Katie a strange look. “At a friend’s house, where he’s been since school let out. You think I don’t watch my kids or something?”

Katie didn’t answer right away. She pretended to write in her notebook while she thought about the situation. She really wanted to strangle this obnoxious woman, but she doubted that Sergeant Shen would consider that a satisfactory resolution to this oh-so-important problem.

Finally, she surrendered to the inevitable. “Mrs. Masters,” she said, “let me go and have a talk with the Baileys, then I’ll come back and talk with you again.”

“All right. But don’t be surprised if you find drugs in that house. That’s if they even let you in.” She gave Katie another knowing nod.

Katie left the house and walked up the block to a small tan house. The yard appeared well-tended. A tricycle lay on its side by the front porch. Katie advised radio of her new location as she knocked on the door.

The door opened and a man in his mid-thirties wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a tattered robe stood rubbing his eyes. When he noticed Katie’s uniform, his eyes widened slightly and he closed his robe self-consciously.

“Can I help you, officer?”

“Mr. Bailey?”

The man nodded.

“May I come in and talk with you for a few minutes?”

“Sure.” He opened the screen door and let her into the living room. On the couch sat three kids, two boys and a girl who were now more interested in her presence than the cartoons they’d been watching. Katie smiled warmly at them as she looked around the room. It contained the normal clutter one would expect in a household where children lived.

“What’s this is all about?” Mr. Bailey asked.

Katie asked, “Which child is Tommy?”

Mr. Bailey pointed to the largest child on the end of the couch. “Why?”

“Well, according to Mrs. Masters, Tommy has been beating up on her son Brian.” She nodded toward the father. “With your encouragement, Mr. Bailey.”

“Oh, jeez.” Mr. Bailey rubbed his eyes and sat in an easy chair. “That old witch is telling tales again.”

“So she’s lying outright?” Katie asked.

Mr. Bailey sighed. “No, not entirely. Look, Officer, Brian is a little terror in this neighborhood. He is the bully of the block. My kids are under strict orders to avoid him. Yesterday, he started picking on Clay, my youngest there. Tommy stood up to him and punched him in the nose when Brian wouldn’t leave them alone. I saw the whole thing from the front window.”

“Did you encourage it?” Katie asked.

Mr. Bailey shifted nervously in his seat. “Well, sorta. After the fact.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means that I told him after it was over that it was a good thing that he stuck up for his brother. I mean, I know fighting is wrong and all, but you can’t let the bullies rule the world, either. We had a talk about it.”

Katie glanced at the three children. They sat calmly, watching her. No one asked her for stickers, which surprised her. That was the thing most kids asked for right away.

“Okay, Mr. Bailey. I figured it might be something like that.”

Katie turned her attention to Tommy, who had been watching enraptured. “Tommy? Your daddy explained to you about fighting?”

Tommy nodded.

“You make sure you always listen to your Mom and Dad.”

All three children nodded.

When Katie turned her attention to Mr. Bailey, he smiled. “They’re good kids, really, officer. I work nights and my wife works days, so they don’t get as much time with us as I’d like, but they’re doing okay, you know?”

“Everything looks fine here,” Katie said, turning for the door. “Continuing to avoid Brian is the best policy. I’ll take care of Mrs. Masters.”

“Thank you.”

Katie walked back to the Master’s house. Evelyn Masters waited on the front porch, her arms crossed. “Did you arrest those little hellions?”

“No, Mrs. Masters, I didn’t. They tell a completely different story.”

“Well, they’re just lying.”

Katie shrugged off the assertion. “Either way, I can’t take any action without physical evidence or witnesses. And besides that, a child under the age of twelve is deemed incapable of committing a crime in the state of Washington.”

“You’re kidding.”

Katie shook her head. She’d left out the fact that a child between eight and twelve could be found capable of committing a crime if it could be shown that the child knew the difference between right and wrong. That little factoid would remain her secret. She didn’t want to give this woman anywhere to go.

“So you’re just going to do nothing?” Mrs. Masters asked, exasperated.

“No, ma’am. I’ve given those children explicit orders not to have any contact with Brian. Of course, this order has to be reciprocal to maintain objectivity.”

Mrs. Masters’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that mean?”

“It means that Brian can’t talk with them, either.”

“Why would he want to?”

“My point exactly. If that’s all, then I-”

“Is there going to be a report on this?”

Katie almost sighed but caught herself. There’s no reason to report this, she thought angrily. I shouldn’t even be here. And I certainly shouldn’t be tied up an additional thirty minutes later in my shift working on this go-nowhere report.

She forced herself to keep an even voice. “There is a report in the computer that I came here, ma’am. If there are any future problems, you can ask them to send the same officer. They’ll have my number.” And hopefully I won’t be working.

When Mrs. Masters didn’t answer right away, Katie allowed herself a small smile. “I’m sure things will be better now that we have this verbal no-contact order in place. Good luck.” She turned and walked back to her car.

It wasn’t until she got into the car, drove out of the neighborhood and cleared the call that she finally allowed herself a long sigh.

What a total busybody. I need something cold to drink.

2209 hours

Karl Winter sat at the table with Ridgeway and Will Reiser. They’d arrived late and found their usual table in the corner occupied by some newcomers. Johnny apologized, but the three men didn’t mind. As Ridgeway pointed out, “The beer tastes the same at any table.”

Winter looked at the date on his digital watch, which Mary had bought for him two Christmases ago. He’d protested, preferring a watch with a face and two hands but Mary told him it was time to enter the latter half of the twentieth century.

The date now read August 23rd, which put him at just over eight months to go. It also told him that Gio was an hour late and probably wasn’t coming. All three of them knew he’d been seeing the blonde he met in here, even though he kept uncharacteristically close-mouthed about the affair. Even more telling, Winter had never known Gio to miss a choir practice with the guys over a woman.

“Major Crimes put out a bulletin for patrol today,” Reiser reported. “Scarface has nineteen hits now. There’s another three or four more that are uncertain, but probably him. And he got money on almost all of them.”