"REG, WHAT IT BE?"
"How's it hanging, Dukes?"
"Short and to the left.”
"They have implants for that."
"Not on a cop's salary."
"Ain't that the truth.”
Reg ended the conversation. He hadn’t settled into his squeaky desk chair, before he heard his name again.
"Williams,” Officer Dubinski called from across the station.
Reg looked up to see Dubinski’s head jutting out of Captain Freeman's office.
"Cap wants to see you.”
Great, Reg thought, the man without an inside voice all over my hung over ear.
Captain Lawrence Freeman, a master at departmental politics, but a mean hombre when he had to be. Reg hoped Freeman wanted to see him for something simple, like an unsigned form from his last report. If not, and he got the dreaded Freeman Stomp, the footprints would be stuck to his backside for days.
“Cap, you wanted to see me?" he asked from the doorway.
"Come in, have a seat, close the door!”
Damn. More than an unsigned form.
"No problem," he said, and did as told.
"Williams, how you holding up?”
"Could be better, could be worse, you know."
As most under his command were aware, Freeman did know. It was one of the Captain’s greatest assets. Despite the politics and stomping, he never forgot what it was like to be out in the streets. “You don’t root through the garbage every day without coming away with a smell,” he always said.
"I received the six month report from Silverman. I wanted to see for myself how you were holding up.”
"Doing the life dance, Cap, that’s all."
"Silverman agrees you are doing as well as can be expected, but raised some concerns.”
Uh-oh. Reg shifted a quick eye at the office blinds. They’re open. Good. Everyone knew if the Captain was going to stomp on you, he closed the blinds.
"Concerns?"
“Silverman thinks there is something brewing underneath.”
"Brewing?"
"Yes, brewing. Like sitting on a powder keg with a lit fuse. You could blow up or fizzle out. I told him if that’s the case, then half the guys on the force have something brewing. He said your situation has extenuating circumstances.”
"You mean my wife," Reg said plainly.
"Yes, Williams, your wife!” Freeman softened his tone. “By the way, I was sorry to hear about that. This damn job breaks up more marriages than I can count."
"Cap, I assure you—"
"Can it, Williams.” His tone picked up again. “You think you are the first cop to kill an innocent, or have his wife run out on him? This job is not for everyone, but those that it is for are expected to perform it vigilantly and soberly.”
Reg wanted to tell Freeman about his Animal surveillance. About the lead he and Reuben uncovered the day before. He wanted to say that he did take the job seriously, and nothing was brewing. It wouldn’t do any good. He could see it in the Captain’s eyes, in everyone's eyes. The only way he was going to earn back their respect was to crack the Animal case.
Freeman said softly, "Anytime you need to talk or just blow off some steam, I’m here. The door swings both ways, and no, I don't mean my back door.”
"Got it."
"Now get out of my office and tell Dubinski to get his bony ass back in here. I’m not finished with him yet.”
"Sure thing, Cap, and thanks," Reg said, getting up to leave. Reuben was there to greet him at his desk.
"Detective Williams, as I live and breathe, you look like hell. Been praying to the gin gods again?”
"And got a hangover straight from the throne of Seagram’s.”
Reuben handed him a two pack of Advil.
"Looks like you have experience with the gods yourself, only you come prepared."
"Strange, isn’t it, the gin and rum gods answer prayers the same way? What did El Capitan want? Was it Keep up the good work, or, The door swings both ways? Hold it, let me guess, The door swings both ways?”
"Yeah, but I think he was coming on to me this time. I could swear he winked when he talked about his back door."
They both laughed.
"What do you say, we wait about fifteen minutes for your meds to kick in, and then brief Kowalski on the lead?"
Kowalski? Jackhole. That should be his first name instead of Adam. It should be Jackhole Kowalski. Reg wasn't prejudice, but Kowalski had earned his nickname, The Polish Prick. He did anything to get ahead, including spreading rumors, case hampering, and brownnosing the brass until his color matched Reg's skin.
When the Prick and Detective Fred Derbins were both up for promotion two years back, Fred’s case files began going missing. Unexplained flat tires, and extended delays on his background requests, plagued Detective Derbins for weeks on end.
Captain Freeman told Derbins that it was a run of bad luck, and in the case of his backgrounds, system overload. The off-luck and overloaded systems lasted just long enough for Kowalski to secure the promotion. Then—WALA—all was right in Derbins' world again.
The flat tires and missing case files could have been bad luck, but when Kowalski was seen around town with the hot little number from records, people began to whisper. It was Reg’s bad luck that Adam Kowalski was the lead detective on the Animal task force.
Reg leaned forward in his squeaky chair, and motioned Reuben to the empty seat beside his desk.
"What if you and I worked the lead, and if we get anything solid, we take it to Kowalski? You saw how baked Quarterman was. He could have given us the address to the Russian Space Station.”
“Thought you might feel that way. That’s why I didn’t go to him straight off. One thing, though, we tell Freeman."
Reuben’s eyes expressed firm sympathy. Reg knew it was the best compromise he was going to get. He didn’t like it, but his partner was right. Telling Freeman would cover their back doors.
"Soon as I talk to him, we’re on our way."
When Dubinski finally slumped out of Freeman’s office, toting footprints on the back of his uniform, Reg hustled over.
"Got a second, Cap?"
"Swings both ways."
Reg smirked, remembering his conversation with Reuben.
"Cap, this lead fell into my lap concerning the Animal case, and I was wondering—"
"What did Kowalski say?”
"Kowalski and his task force are swamped with call-ins. Didn’t want to throw one more on the pile. I was hoping to follow up myself. Me and Reuben, that is."
Freeman cocked an eye at him, seeming to mull over the proposal, then said, "Alright, Williams, you’re taking initiative, I like that. Work your case load until lunch, and then follow up on this lead. Do that every day for the next three days. Hand over whatever you find to the task force. I’ll tell Rivers to take it, no questions asked.”
As Reuben’s eyes had earlier, Freeman’s told Reg that it was the best deal he was going to get. All he had to do now was crack the case in three days. Hopefully, the Boot Lady in Frankenmuth would come through for him.