Craig Johnson - Kindness Goes Unpunished

I felt the blood rushing to my head and the throb of my own pulse as a large, white truck pulled up. The door read FAIRMOUNT PARK COMMISSION, but the two men who got out weren’t carrying rakes.

“Are you all right?” I stared at the little red dots. “Sheriff, you all right?”

I converted the chill in my back to a nod. “Yep.”

Katz looked past me, and Gowder continued on to Toy Diaz. I stumbled a little as I walked away, stopped, and just stood there, breathing and fighting the nausea that rose in the back of my throat. I became aware of a noise in front of me and a screaming that wasn’t human.

William White Eyes had disengaged himself, pushing with his good leg, and had dragged himself to a shallow ditch; he was covered in dirt and leaves. His eyes were large as he struggled to rise up on one elbow but, even from a few yards away, I could see that something was broken in him. He slumped back against the ground, groaned, and looked at me as the screaming continued.

I stared at his pale, white body in the stark illumination of the street lamps that had pulsed on again and noticed how all the different colors of his war paint now looked black. I went over and kneeled beside him. “You okay?”

His voice wheezed with effort. “No.”

I kept quiet and held onto him till the EMTs arrived and took over.

I walked back up to the path where the gelding still kicked weakly. I kneeled again and placed a hand on the bay’s neck beside the Cheyenne medicine sign for wind. The horse attempted to raise its head but let out a rattling gasp and resettled. I counted at least five bullets in the poor animal. My father was a blacksmith and had told me when I was a little boy that the beasts of the field didn’t feel pain the way we humans did. I remember not believing him then, and I still didn’t.

I could hear the steady clop of hooves on the pathway stones as Henry rode up from behind and, from the sound, I could tell that he had captured my mount. More vehicles arrived, adding blue and red to the already abundant yellow that ran between the trees. I’m sure if it had been daylight, I would have been able to look back up the ravine and seen Chief Tedyuscung with his hand over his brow, looking west, at the mess of things in general. The screaming continued along with the sirens, and something was going to have to pay; that’s the way it always was, and it was usually the innocent.

I was cold, and my legs complained at carrying my weight. My eyes didn’t seem to want to focus as I pushed my hat back and felt the trapped rain run down my back. I looked at my hands and watched them shake, and a chill ran through me. I placed my hand back on the bay’s neck to steady him and, looking into the eye with the circle around it, spoke to him softly. “Easy…Easy boy…”

A weight hung in my chest and, before my eyes could completely blur, I raised the Colt and fired.

Two weeks, and I still had the screaming in my head.

I tossed a few more crumbs from my bagel to Mutt and Jeff, who were looking a little thicker than their hundred or so compatriots scattered across the roach-coach area of the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania. I guess they felt like they’d found good pasture and saw no reason to move on. It was slow going with the finger brace Rissman had put back on me. My ribs still groused every time I took a breath, but everything still hurt a little, so I just ignored it all.

“Are you going to answer my question?”

I looked up and again thought about how much she looked like her daughter. I thought about how seeing women in floral-print summer dresses gave me hope about things in general, and I thought about what she knew, which was probably more than I wanted to admit. “I’m sorry.”

Lena took a sip of the coffee she had brought with her. “Toy Diaz?”

“He’s a little worse for wear. He’s going to have a supervised rehabilitation at Graterford, and it promises to be lengthy since he no longer has his friends in the district attorney’s office.”

“What about the young woman?”

“Jo Fitzpatrick?”

“Yes.”

I tossed the pigeons more crumbs. “By the letter of the law, she didn’t do anything wrong.” I reached over and picked up the cup of coffee she’d brought for me; it was finally cool enough to drink. “Maybe it just seems like enough people have been punished for this mess. Every mistake she made was because she cared about people or because she cared about her child.” Lena nodded, but I don’t think her old-world sense of justice was satisfied. I sipped my coffee as she and Mutt and Jeff watched. “I don’t know.” I slapped my hand on the backpack, containing all my homework from Detectives North. “If Katz and Gowder want to pursue it…” I let it trail off, just as I had the investigation.

“I hear William turned state’s evidence?”

“Yep, it was as I’d suspected. Vince Osgood and Toy Diaz headed up the operation and, when Billy Carlisle became a bit of a problem, Osgood decided to streamline the operation by retiring him to Graterford. The wildcard was the unscheduled release of William White Eyes. That set a power play into motion between Osgood and Diaz, which meant that one of them had to die.” She looked at me over the rim of her coffee cup, the ginger of her eyes in full bloom. “Diaz needed a soldier, and Shankar DuVall fit the bill. The official Academy of the Fine Arts plan was to kill Osgood; DuVall just didn’t count on Gowder or Vic.”

“Or you.” She finished her coffee and decided to give law enforcement a rest. “The Indian abducted my daughter today?”

Vic had been recuperating at Cady’s, while I had been spending most of my time at the hospital with my daughter. “Henry said something about Pine Street. Since they’re driving back, I think they were taking Dog and going antiquing.”

She nodded but couldn’t resist more questions. “So the lawyer connection was through Devon Conliffe, and he was responsible for the money laundering?”

I tossed some more bagel to the pigeons. “The tripping point was Cady; she wouldn’t play.”

“And so Diaz had DuVall throw Devon off the Ben Franklin Bridge?”

“Yep. As Alphonse said, Devon was preparing to turn state’s evidence. When Osgood and Diaz found out their boy had all the fortitude of a cheap lawn chair, they decided to start doing a little housecleaning. At least that’s what William White Eyes said.”

She stretched her legs out and crossed them at the ankles. “How does he know?”

“He was there.”

She turned to look at me. “William was on the bridge?”

“Yep. He was tailing Devon to make sure he didn’t go back to hurt Cady any more.” I thought about it. “I don’t think he knew Diaz was going to have Shankar DuVall kill Devon but, when he did, I think it might have sealed the deal on his wavering allegiances.”

She watched me, and I watched Mutt and Jeff. “So, was there anybody in this case that didn’t deserve to die?”

“Yep.” I didn’t say anything more but just sat there thinking of a large brown eye with a painted circle around it.

Lena let go of my arm when we got to the hospital valet parking kiosk and swung around to look at me. The dark luster of her hair shone blue in the morning sun, and I noticed that her smile had the same lupine slant as Vic’s. The Moretti women smiled like they were going to eat you, and you’d like it. “Dinner? I know a place for pizza.”

“I bet you do.”

“Bring Henry and the Terror. Michael says he’ll stay with Cady.”

“I think that might be turning into a situation.”

She nodded. “I think you’re right.”

She examined my finger brace and gently stroked a valentine-red nail across the bruised flesh. I waited a while before I spoke again. “It was you who opened the door at Cady’s when…Before the reception, I mean.” Her head slipped to one side and she looked up at me through her lashes, her eyes sharp for only a moment.