Elmore Leonard - Maximum Bob

Louis Falco, a sergeant with the TAC unit, was also here. Kathy knew him slightly from the Polo Lounge, an after-work hangout off Military Trail, but had never seen Gary Hammond there. She had a feeling he didn’t drink or smoke and went to a Protestant church on Sunday. But a neat-looking guy, lean build, no ring. White button-down shirt and print burgundy necktie, very nice. She wondered if cop groupies out at the Polo Lounge would go for Gary Hammond or think he was impersonating a police officer. He looked more like a lawyer than a guy in law enforcement. Mid-thirties, say, but no ring. The only thing that marred his neat image, but a nice touch, his hair was kind of long, dark brown, down over the collar of his shirt.

Gary Hammond was telling them, “If you ran the names of all the bad guys convicted by Judge Gibbs who are back on the street and wouldn’t mind taking a whack at him, you could paper this room with the printouts.”

Kathy let her gaze wander from Gary’s desk to take in the size of the squad room with its rows of desks, walls and ceiling a dull yellow. But with those glass-front offices all around the four sides, there wasn’t a whole lot of wall space. How many names was he actually talking about? Kathy didn’t ask. The guy liked his wallpaper analogy and was trying to make a point.

He liked it so much he was taking it next door to Sex Crimes saying, “If it was possible to count all the bad guys still in doing a hard fall, but have friends on the outside they could get to pay the judge back, we’d have to use the walls in there too.”

Kathy didn’t know about the walls in Sex Crimes. She did recall they had lamps on the desks and artificial flowers. Part of that squad room was Child Abuse.

Gary Hammond moved on saying, “If you consider just the wackos and rockheads that pass through Gibbs’s courtroom every day of the week. Or it could be a guy never had even a parking ticket, all of a sudden he draws time on a DUI manslaughter, got drunk and killed somebody with his car. The guy loses his job, his family, his life is ruined and it’s all this judge’s fault.”

What he was actually saying, Kathy decided, it could be anybody. Including Dale Crowe, for some reason singled out or she wouldn’t be here. Though she still didn’t see what Dale had to do with the alligator.

Lou Falco didn’t know why he was here either, asking, “What do you want me to do about it?”

Kathy wondered that too. This didn’t seem to be a job for TAC. The Tactical unit specialized in undercover work, surveillance, narcotics investigations… But also dignitary protection. That could be it.

Gary said he was looking down the road, trying to anticipate what might happen next. “I’m wondering if the judge shouldn’t have a watch put on him. Nothing elaborate, park a green-and-white at his house, drive him to court…”

Falco said, “In case another alligator gets after him? You don’t even know it was put there.”

“I’m ninety-five percent sure.”

“Even if it was, you can’t call it attempted homicide. People get alligators in their swimming pools all the time, they don’t call TAC. You play golf, don’t you? Any course around here, walk in the rough you’re liable to step on an alligator. Listen, I don’t want to tell you your business, but at this point the only lead you can get is from the judge. What’s he say about it? Anybody threaten him lately?”

“I asked him and he threw me out,” Gary said. “We’re no longer on speaking terms. All I got from the judge, nothing happened during the night they were aware of. He wouldn’t let me talk to his wife.”

Kathy said, “Did you see her?”

“Yeah, but that’s all.”

“What’s she look like?”

“Attractive, blond, thirties, putting on weight. Scared to death of alligators, according to the judge. So afraid one might come back, she left.” His gaze moved to Falco. “But there’s no reason to think it was meant for the wife. Not when you have a highly qualified potential victim like Judge Gibbs.”

So much for the wife. Kathy said, “You know where she went?” Gary was looking at her again. “You said she left.”

“I have no idea.”

“You could ask him.”

Now he shook his head. “Not a chance.”

She wanted to talk some more about the wife, a woman who believed she was a twelve-year-old black girl. Bring it up for whatever it was worth…

But now Gary was saying, “The judge tells McKenna it came out of the canal. He doesn’t want to hear any more about it. McKenna says fine. But then he pulls my squad off cold homicides and tells me to look into it. Only, he says, don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“You tell him,” Falco said, “about papering the walls?”

“We’re starting out with the most recent ones that seem likely. Offenders the judge sent away who got their release in the past couple of months.” Gary’s hand touched a file folder on the neat desk, everything in place. “DOC sent us a list this morning we’re checking out. The reason Ms. Baker’s here, she has a probation violator who threatened the judge. When was it? The day before yesterday.”

Kathy said, “What are you talking about?”

Gary was looking at her until Falco got up from his chair, ready to leave, saying, “You want my opinion, Gary? You’re way ahead of yourself. McKenna says don’t make a big deal out of it? That should tell you he doesn’t see it as a hit. But he has to put somebody on it to cover his ass, just in case. So you go through the motions, take McKenna at his word and don’t strain yourself.”

Gary was shaking his head. “McKenna said that because the judge didn’t want any publicity. But you saw the Post this morning? Gibbs’s picture on the front page?”

“And I saw how they played it,” Falco said, “called him gator bait, right? How’d they put it?”

“‘Has Judge Become “Gator Bait”?’” Kathy said.

Gary was looking at her again. “You read it?” She nodded and he said, “A reporter, guy I’ve known all my life, calls me, wants to know what happened. I told him we have no idea how the alligator got there, if it was delivered or came on its own. They put in the paper, ‘Investigators speculate whether sentence has been passed on Judge Gibbs.’ I didn’t even say well, it’s a possibility. But they want to believe it was an attempt on his life.”

“They’re having fun with it, that’s all,” Falco said, “‘cause the guy’s an asshole. Think about it. You want to do somebody, there better ways’n with an alligator. I’ll see you.”

Gary told her his friend at the Post asked if he could get a picture of the alligator, wanting to know what happened to it. Kathy had the feeling he would keep talking about the alligator if she let him. But then listening to him she thought of a question and asked, “Who killed it?”

“I did.”

“You shot it?”

He nodded, didn’t say another word about the alligator and now she asked him, “Where did you hear Dale Crowe threatened Gibbs?”

“I was told by a deputy who got it from Gibbs’s bailiff. Crowe said, ‘You’ll see me again.’ Or, ‘You’ll get yours.’ Something like that.”

“You haven’t seen a transcript?”

“They’re getting me one.”

“Dale said, ‘If you think you’re through with me you’re full of shit.’ Is that a threat?”

“It could be.”

“How many shots did it take, to kill the alligator?”

“One.”

Kathy stared at him and he stared back at her. “What did you use?”

He leaned to one side to touch his hip. “This.”

She paused before saying, “Dale was mad. He got state time and doesn’t deserve it.”