Ridley Pearson - Middle Of Nowhere

Chapman's eyes went wide.

LaMoia suggested, "You'll be hooked up to that if you keep playing it the way you are."

Daphne explained, "The shooting offers us the best leverage in terms of getting one of them to talk." She had no idea what she was talking about, but she hoped Chapman didn't know that.

"And I fit in, how?" Chapman asked, vamping.

Boldt said, "Property has always been a clean department, Ronnie."

"Damn right."

"And now this," LaMoia said. "Gotta break your heart."

"It does," the man insisted.

"And us too," LaMoia said.

Daphne added, "We hate to see anyone look bad."

Boldt said, "And we understand that when a guy is dealing with I.I. he's not about to so much as whisper a fellow officer's name without damn good proof, because no matter what anyone says, any kind of I.I. association hurts an officer, jams him up. Even ruins him, sometimes. And for no good reason."

"Agreed."

"It was Krishevski's shift," Boldt stated, as if certain. "How long do you cover, Ronnie?" Boldt readjusted his cast. "Krishevski has three officers under him: Pendegrass, Riorden, and Smythe."

Chapman was feeling uncomfortable. "I'm aware of that, Lou."

"Who was it? What was it?" Boldt tried to sound convincing, "One of them stole some assault rifles. Probably more like two of them, given the way the mechanics work-one guy having to trip a button upstairs in order for the vault to come open downstairs. They sold them into the marketplace for some spending money."

"Is that what's on this missing video?" LaMoia asked. "Or was it you who threw the switch to open the warehouse?"

"I didn't throw no switch. I didn't have nothing to do with that."

Daphne speculated, "You saw something."

Chapman answered, "I caught one of Sergeant K's guys in house on my shift, and he hadn't signed in. You gotta sign in, Lou-that's on penalty of death in our unit. There were threats exchanged. Obviously, I realized something wrong was going down. Something had come out of the warehouse, and it came out on my shift-that was on purpose. And if it came out, then it had to go somewhere. Had to leave the building. And fast."

"The garage," Boldt nodded, understanding the logic. The warehouse and the lower deck of the parking garage were on the same level.

"I don't know if these guys planned on covering their backsides later or not. Maybe they're just plain stupid." He looked at LaMoia. "Maybe they planned to give me what someone gave you, what someone gave Sanchez. Schock. Phillipp. You gotta be some kind of stupid to try any of this. But I got the leg up on 'em. If I hadn't, maybe somebody would have clubbed me in an alley or on the way out of a bar or something."

"Leg up, Ronnie?" Boldt asked.

"You remember that vandalism in the garage… must be two years ago now?"

"Vaguely," Boldt answered.

"I.I. had a pair of cameras installed." He recognized Boldt's blank expression.

LaMoia said, "The video."

"No one knows about those cameras," Chapman said. "The brass wanted it that way. They didn't want anyone knowing. They knew the vandalism had to be internal, cop to cop, and they wanted to put somebody right for it. The wiring for the closed-circuit stuff runs into the boneyard. They installed it saying they were doing maintenance. Thought they'd hidden the VCRs where we'd never see them-way up on a shelf in the back. But I knew. I had to know. I've been in that room going on twenty-one years. I know every creak, every sound. I've been fighting rats and spiders so long that I've given them names. I know every inch of those shelves. But no one knew I knew."

"The videotape," LaMoia repeated.

The ruddy-cheeked man grinned. "I grabbed it that night, knowing it was my insurance package. Locked it away good and tight. And if anything happens to me, it goes directly to KSTV's News Four at Five."

"Oh… my… God," Boldt gasped, realizing Chapman had images that could ID the cops responsible for the theft. "I.I. caught on, how?"

Chapman explained, "I loosened a wire, put a blank tape into the VCR, hoping to satisfy I.I. But it didn't, of course. The Flu hit. I.I. sent Sanchez to talk to me."

LaMoia guessed. "You reported that visit to Krishevski."

Daphne read the man's face. "Not Krishevski. Then to whom?"

"I need that tape," Boldt said.

"It's hidden. They watch me. Probably you too, now.

They want that tape. They get hold of it, and a week from now you'll find me face down in my shower, or lying up next to Sanchez with my neck broke."

"Where does Krishevski fit in?" Boldt inquired, recalling the man's visit to his home two days before.

"Don't look at him for this."

"He knows about your videotape."

"I imagine that's right."

Daphne said, "Having part of the story isn't going to help."

Chapman agreed, but couldn't quite bring himself to talk.

Boldt reminded Chapman, "When we looked in the warehouse for the rifle, there was a rifle. Your doing?"

"I've never tampered with evidence. Never will."

"Those videotapes," Daphne said. "You tampered with those."

"Hey!" he complained. "Those weren't part of Property. You show me one piece of paper saying those were part of Property."

LaMoia tipped back in his kitchen chair. "Okay." He sighed. "I say we leave this for I.I. to mop up. He's not going to help us."

Chapman looked over at Boldt, the first real sign of fear on his face.

Boldt looked the man in the eye. "You don't want to go down on the record as having told anyone anything."

Daphne added, "Because you've seen what they did to Sanchez."

Chapman told her, "I got a family. I got kids."

Boldt suggested, "So I'll tell you what's right, and you'll stop me where I'm wrong."

Chapman nodded his okay.

Boldt closed his eyes and assembled the pieces. When he reopened them, he looked straight at Chapman. The two pairs of eyes locked together. "You figured out these guns were stolen and you accused Krishevski because his guys were on that tape." He paused. Chapman made no corrections. "Either he told you, or you figured out he wasn't directly involved. So when Sanchez shows up four different times, asking questions, Pendegrass gets worried. The next day Sanchez is in the hospital." Another pause. Chapman's eyes were glassy. "Your loyalty is to the room itself, not to any officer. Krishevski feels pretty much the same as you do. Knowing you possess this incriminating tape, Krishevski suggests his boys will return the stolen weapons. They'll make it right, if you keep quiet. And until you and I pulled that gun off the shelf, you thought they had returned them." He added, "How am I doing?"

Chapman said, "Krishevski couldn't believe his guys could do such a stupid thing. Blamed himself for leaking news of the sickout. Practically begged me to let him set it right. He's not the one you're after."

"Schock and Phillipp take over the I.I. case for Sanchez and pay a couple visits to Property. You're thinking Pendegrass is checking the log, and you're worried for them. You go to the Cock and Bull looking for Pendegrass, to tell him to lay off Schock and Phillipp, but they're right behind you, and Pendegrass and company take a baseball bat to their heads as well-in part to scare you, to let you know who's boss."

Again, Chapman made no corrections.

"Krishevski calls me anonymously because he suspects his boys did Schock and Phillipp. He won't condone that. He knows they need to be stopped. He plays it cool when I show up at the bar, putting on a good act." Boldt paused. No comments from Chapman. "I call down to Property and get Riorden. I start asking about visits by Schock and Phillipp, and suddenly I'm on the list." He paused. "I've got to have that tape, Ronnie."

"No chance! But you don't need me!"