Stephen Cannell - The Tin Collector

"Fuck you," Shane said softly to a bubbling spot in the water where the helicopter had been.

A few minutes later, while they were still watching the Bell Jet's last air bubbles rising to the surface, exploding trapped air, they saw the black-and-white Hughes 500 approaching, coming in low over the lake. The belly-light on the sheriff's chopper snapped on, and they were caught in its blinding glare. Shane and Alexa immediately threw down their guns and assumed the position, placing both hands behind their heads. Shane instructed Longboard and Chooch to do the same.

They were all standing out in the open as the sheriff's helicopter hovered overhead, churning up rocks and river water. "On your stomachs. Facedown on the ground!" they heard Conklyn's voice shout over the bullhorn.

All of them proned-out on the sand and waited.

It was only moments before the first squad cars arrived. They drove off the road, their tires squishing on the wet river sand, their cherry-colored bar lights flashing. Then, as patrol officers swarmed them, the police chopper landed.

"Watch it, she's been wounded," Shane said as sheriff's deputies cuffed Alexa and dragged her to her feet. They ignored his instructions and pushed her roughly toward the squad cars. Shane was cuffed and pulled to his feet, then found himself looking at the jacked-and-flacked Sheriff Conklyn. "Glad to see you, man," Shane said.

"What the fuck? What chopper? She said there was a chopper shooting at you…"

"There was," Shane said, nodding to the spot in the river where the Bell Jet Ranger had gone down. "But you're gonna need to come back with divers, a crane, and some body bags if you wanna see it."

Shane watched as Chooch and Longboard were roughly cuffed, then put into squad cars. "They're victims. You don't need to throw them around like that. They were kidnapped," he complained, but Conklyn didn't seem to care.

"You're really some kinda jerkoff, Scully. This is a quiet town. Every time you come up here, I gotta throw a fucking cherry festival." Conklyn pushed Shane toward the squad car. "I can hardly wait to hear this one."

"Right," Shane said softly. "But you better send out for pizza, 'cause it's a long and complicated story."

Police misconduct is defined under Section 805 of the LAPD Manual and falls into one of four categories:

1. Commission of a criminal offense

2. Neglect of duty

3. Violation of department policies, rules, or procedures

4. Conduct that may tend to reflect unfavorably upon the employee or the department.

After their arrest, Shane, Alexa, Chooch, and Longboard Kelly were taken to the Arrowhead substation. Alexa's bullet wound was stitched up and bandaged by EMTs in Sheriff Conklyn's office. Then she was returned to a holding cell.

A pissed-off Bud Halley arrived at two A. M. and reluctantly did Shane's DFAR. They were in one of two windowless FI rooms.

After he heard it all, Halley leaned back in the wooden chair and glowered. "Shit, Scully, I'm supposed to believe that the mayor of L. A., the Super Chief of our department, and one of the largest developers in the state of California, along with a dozen or more sworn or terminated LAPD personnel, are involved in murder, blackmail, kidnapping, fraud, and a buncha other criminal misconduct," Halley said, looking at Shane through tired eyes. He didn't want any part of it. This was the ultimate red ball.

Shane had asked for Captain Halley for three reasons: One, with Tom Mayweather sure to get indicted, he was Shane's most recent CO. Two, the captain was well respected in the department, and Shane needed a trusted "rabbi" as his advocate. And three, he knew that Halley was deeply religious, with a highly developed sense of morals and ethics. Underneath all the police bullshit, he was a stand-up guy. If Halley could be made to believe Shane's story, he would come aboard, regardless of the consequences.

Shane had started his DFAR talking about the kidnapping of Chooch and Longboard, finally convincing Halley that they had been hit over the head, tied up, videotaped, and abducted from his Third Street apartment. They had then been taken to Logan Hunter's mansion in Arrowhead and held there for two days by current and former LAPD officers.

Shane, Alexa, Chooch, and Longboard all volunteered to take lie-detector tests, and after Halley agreed, Conklyn rolled a big, new Star Mark polygraph machine into the FI room. One by one they were given the test, and one by one they passed.

Shane could see the building frustration in Bud Halley's hazel-green eyes as night turned to day.

By ten o'clock the helicopter had been pulled out of the Little Bear River. Inside were the remains of the pilot, as well as Logan Hunter and Joe Church. Kris Kono had been found in the shallows with Alexa's 9mm slug buried deep in the Hawaiian officer's chest.

It was all exculpatory evidence, further sustaining Shane's statement.

Alexa and Shane described the events that occurred in Miami, starting with their attempt to rescue Sandy Sandoval and ending with the attack by Drucker, Love, and Calvin Sheets. Alexa handled their escape from Elton John's Biscayne Bay estate, then Shane explained about Ray's Arrowhead house and how Molar had been blackmailing the Long Beach City Council so Los Angeles could get control of the naval yard. Halley listened, took notes, and groaned as the scope of the corruption grew larger, reaching all the way up through the chief of police to the mayor's office.

Halley kept the startling events under wraps as best he could, but of course Logan Hunter's death had leaked out. News crews from L. A. were arriving in vans and helicopters. The newsies were already picking up other shreds of the story, sharking for details, sensing that much more was at stake.

"I don't know what to do with this," Halley admitted to Shane and Alexa after he'd heard it all. They were no longer being kept in holding cells and were seated in Sheriff Conklyn's office. He had promoted them from suspects to witnesses.

Out the window they could see a small TV uplink antenna farm being constructed on the vacant property across from the police station.

"I'm gonna call in Erwin Epps," Halley finally said, referring to the Baptist minister and political activist who had just been elected head of the L. A. Police Commission. "Under Section 78 of the city charter, the board of commissioners has the power and responsibility to supervise, control, and regulate the department." Halley quoted the section from memory.

"Good idea," Shane said.

Shane asked for and was given a chance to talk to Chooch. The boy was staying in the Arrowhead Motel with a sheriff's matron. Shane was driven over and let himself in.

Chooch was watching the news, his legs stretched out on the bed. He snapped off the television as Shane came through the door.

"Man… can you believe the coverage this is getting?"

"Chooch… I wanna talk to you about your mom."

"I know about Sandy… it's on the TV." His voice was guarded.

"I'm sorry you had to hear it that way. I wanted to tell you, but they wouldn't give me a chance until now."

Chooch nodded, his black eyes showing little. "I'm sorry she's dead," he said. "I didn't want that to happen… I just wanted her to…" He stopped, then shook his head in frustration. "You know what I mean." He looked up. "You and me are the same, Shane. I got nobody, same as you." The way he said it, Shane couldn't tell what he was thinking. Chooch, like Shane, had become good at hiding his emotions.

"I want you to know something something important about your mother."

"That she loved me?" the boy said, but his tone said he found it hard to believe.

"Yeah, she loved you, and she died trying to save you. She gave herself up for you, Chooch."