It Just Figures
*Chapter Five*
"Com'on, Partner," John elbowed Meldrick, pushed himself away from the wall. "Our paperwork awaits. Must report to The High One. Tempus Fugit."
Tempus Fugit? Meldrick thought. Aw, hell, I'm tired. He followed him out the door. The walk back to the car wasn't as bad. One, they were leaving the morgue. Two, the wind had eased some. They got in the car. Meldrick settled back, tipped his hat over his eyes, and nothing happened. He opened one eye, looked out at Munch from under his hat. "Well?" he asked.
"SEAT BELT! John exploded. "Put on your goddamned seat belt!" Meldrick about jumped out of his skin.
"Jeeze, yeah, alright!" he yelled right back at John. "Don't want to be flying into no windshield again, hurtin' this handsome face," Lewis mumbled, pulling the seat belt down and strapping himself in. He settled back into his seat again, twisting and grunting to be sure John knew how uncomfortable the seat belt was. "Do you s'pose workman's comp covers folks whose partners always be deliberately trying to smash folk's faces who just be living their own lives without some partners tryin' to be their damn mommas?"
"What?" Munch cried, exasperated.
And what the hell is this 'temper fudge it' shit?"
"Tempus Fugit," answered John. "Latin. It means Time Flies."
"Well, why you be always talkin' in priest talk? What's the matter with you, why can't you be like everybody else?Why can't you just say, 'time—' " Suddenly, Meldrick sat up, looked at Munch. "Hey! What did one frog say to the other?" he asked.
"Do tell."
"Time's sure fun when you're havin' flies!" John rolled his eyes. Lewis laughed, slapped his knee, settled back, fell instantly into a nap.
How the hell does he do that? John thought.
*****
Most of the detectives were in house, a rare occurrence in a city with nearly a murder a day to its credit, and the squad room was cacophony of noise. Banter shot back and forth between the cops like a pin ball, cigarettes bouncing in the corners of mouths. Phones were ringing, computers humming, monitors glowing over keyboards that were pounded with a sound like popcorn popping. The radiators banged and hissed under grimy windows, the ever present background music in homicide hell. Smoke hung in the air, part of the decor, along with the odor of fast food and burnt coffee. Munch walked straight to the break room to get a cup of the bitter brew. Lewis went to his desk, sat back, and put his feet up. He was about to pull his hat down, when suddenly, everything quieted. His feet hit the floor fast as the doorway darkened with the intimidating largeness of Gee. The dicks could feel his presence. Gee smiled as Munch hissed loudly from the other end of the room, "Cheese it—the boss!"
"Cheese it, indeed!" Gee beamed at his detectives. "How goes it, fair knights of the kingdom of Baltimore? Specifically Sirs' Lewis and Munch?"
"Sirs' Lewis and Munch have a dead Doe warlock, that's how goes it," Meldrick answered.
Tim spoke from above his paperwork. "There's no such thing as a warlock," he said. Frank, sitting across from him, head bent low over his keyboard, stopped typing.
"That's where you're wrong, Bayliss," Meldrick turned in his chair, "Our John Doe has three—"
"No, Timmy's right," interrupted John. "The term warlock is just another Hollyvision/Telewood myth. Male witches are just that—male witches."
Lewis turned to Munch, then back to Bayliss, who continued, "Witches are a big religion now. It's called Wicca, and Wicca is the basis for the word wise." Frank was still hunched over his keyboard, elbows tight to his side, his fingers resting quietly in the middle of a word. He moved only his eyes, which went slowly up from his keyboard and past the monitor to settle on his partner.
Meldrick opened his mouth, but Munch spoke first, "It's the oldeset religion, earth-based, and quite harmless. May even do some good for our Planet Earth, as Wiccans believe all life is sacred. And they're not Satan worshippers, don't believe in him. Satan is strictly a Christian god."
Lewis said to Bayliss, "So you've decided to become a warlock instead of a monk—that explains why you haven't shaved that round head of yours yet..."
Bayliss frowned. "Aren't you listening? Have a little respect for religion—"
"Opiate for the masses," John looked at Meldrick, "But Timmy's right."
"MY GOOD KNIGHTS," Gee brought silence again, all faces turned to him, "Knights of the rectangle tables, set aside your jousting and continue your worthy quest to end the evils of this land! Lord Lewis! Lord Munch! The king requests your presence in his royal chambers." John and Lewis followed Gee into his office, arguing in whispers. Frank leaned back in his chair, lit a cigarette, blew out the smoke in a steady blue stream. He gave Tim a long, hard look. "What, may I ask, are you into now?" he said pleasantly.
*****
"Gentlemen," Gee sat back, huge dark hands dangling off the arms of his chair, "You'll be pleased to know that your John Doe has a name."
"What?" and "Already?" Both detectives blurted together.
"Calm yourselves," Gee smiled. "Why so surprised? A third nipple is as good as tattoo across the forehead when it comes to identifying marks."
"So, why were we called into your office for this tidbit, who—" John was starting to get a bad feeling. He looked at Lewis, who had the same uh, oh look on his face.
"I can see by your expressions that you sense a red ball. And the intuition that makes you the fine detectives you are is correct. Our red ball's name is Sterling Parker, as in Senator Bernice Parker. As in her son." Two mouths dropped open. Gee had to laugh, but sobered quickly. "So far, gentlemen, the press is unaware of the situation, and we plan on keeping it that way for as long as possible. Of course all of your fellow detectives will be assigned to the case, but keeping this under wraps means no extra help, from shifts or units, uniforms or plainclothes. And that is how it stands at this point in time. Now, then. Which one of you took the call?"
"Yours truly," mumbled Lewis.
"Then you are the primary. And, Munch, that makes you the secondary.
Lewis leaned towards Munch and said with a wicked grin, "That makes you the knave!"
Munch ignored him, protesting, "But, Gee, I only went because Kellerman..."
"You dare to question your king?" Gee rose from his chair, looking suddenly fierce, but his eyes sparkled. "Not another word, Detective. Go now, my fine knights, and find your dragon—before you find another before you!"
COME, Knave!" Lewis commanded. Munch growled and followed him out the door.
Gee was right behind them. "But first," he said. They turned to see him holding up a finger. He smiled and looked past them. "Hear ye, hear ye, ye lords and ladies of the land, your king calls for a counsel..." he sang out.
*****
The kite was stuck in a tree. Brody laughed at the look on Howard's freckled face. He had never seen such emotions from her as he had that morning. She had two faces at work—serious or angry—but Brody knew there were more, he just knew it. And he was amazed to be the one to bring them out in her.
"It's okay, Sergeant," he touched her elbow gingerly, "Kites were meant to be broken, caught in trees. Nothing lasts forever."
She sighed, looked at her watch. Brody cursed himself—he knew what was coming, and wished he had said something else.
"You're right, Brody, I guess—"
"What did you want to talk about?" Brody quickly asked.
"Oh, yeah..." She seemed shy, suddenly, hesitant. "Brody, do you like to walk?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know, just... walk."
Brody shoved his hands deep into his rumbled corduroys. "Well, yeah. I sure walked a lot last night." Kay looked at him from the corner of her eye. He was looking up at the kite caught in the bare, jagged branches of the tall tree, it seemed to tremble in the winter wind. He was thinking he knew how that kite felt.
"Hey, com'on, Brody. Let's walk."
Brody gave her a small smile. "Okay. Just give me a second." He had to stall, to think, gather his thoughts as he gathered string. He didn't want their time together to end, not yet, not now, but what could he do? He felt he broke the magic with his 'nothing lasts forever' comment. Why did I say that? he tortured himself. Everything I say is just wrong. And he was afraid of what she would say.
She waited, watching him while he rewound the string, following it towards the tree. He wasn't too tall, but hey, neither was she. His hands looked strong, capable, as they worked the string. He was at the tree now, and he raised the string and bit it in two, which made her think again of his teeth, which led to his mouth, and that little tuft of beard under his lip. He turned now, and walked back to her, leaving behind him a small amount of string blowing off the trapped kite. He shoved the spool into his coat pocket. Brody thought she had a strange look on her face, and his insecurity increased.
Without a word, they started back across the brown grass, walking close, shoulders almost touching.They headed towards the path along the water. Without the distraction of the kite, Brody now had a constant awareness of her. The wind suddenly lifted the ends of her shining red hair and blew it across his face. He quickly closed his eyes, breathed in the scent of it along with the fragrance of the ocean, and knew he would always have her now, forever, simply by breathing in, remembering. He thought he could feel an energy coming from her, a vibration, his hand tingled next to hers, and whenever their hands bumped he longed to reach his out and gently take hers. Brody and Kay turned onto the path. Now there were people out and about, the sun was high in the sky, the water glittering. Without thinking, he'd take her elbow whenever they veered to avoid collisions with joggers, dogs, skate boarders. An older woman being walked by her great dane noticed them, and smiled. She thought they made a cute couple.
*****
"Look, Brody," Kay finally spoke, "I owe you an apology, and NO, don't say anything, hear me out." Brody walked quietly at her side. "I jumped your case yesterday and I had no right to. I did a lot of thinking last night, and, well, two things stand out in my mind. One, you're not like them. Not in the least, and two, I believe you."
"Not like who, Detective Howard?" Brody stopped in the middle of the path and looked at her. "You believe me?"
"Well, yeah" Kay looked away, back at the city behind her. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, slid her hands in her back pockets under her p-coat, snuck a peek at Brody who was watching her intensely, then looked past his shoulder. Took a deep breath. "About what you said, about it, um, not being a joke."
Brody turned a new shade of red, looked at his feet and swallowed hard. "No," he said, and then, so quietly that she had to lean close to him to catch it, "no, it's not a joke." He looked up and saw her intense eyes just inches from his own. His whole being fell into those blue depths, he could feel himself leaning closer to her, and was powerless to stop it.
Just then, Howard's beeper went off. They jumped apart like someone had dropped a firecracker between them. Kay fumbled for the beeper, pulled it off her belt, looked at it, then turned her back to the sun so she could read it.
"Damn, dammit!" she said.
"What?" Brody asked.
She dropped the beeper into one pocket, pulled her cell phone out of the other, punched in a code. "Just my goddamned day off, and Gee's beeping, and it mu—hello? Yeah, Gee, Howard. Aw, hell, you kidding? Yeah. Be right there." She dropped the phone back in her pocket.
"What?" Brody asked again.
"Better get your camera, Brody, and get downtown fast. We've got a red ball, Gee's called a powwow," she said over her shoulder as she headed for her car.
"Right away, Sarge," Brody answered, sprinting backwards down the path as he spoke. He turned to full out run just as she turned and yelled, "Brody, wait!" He spun back to face her, expecting more instructions. She looked at him for a moment. Looked away. Sighed. "You can call me Kay," she called, taking big steps backwards. Brody stopped dead in his tracks, astounded, and happier than he had ever felt before. Kay saw he was grinning like the village idiot. "But not on the job!" she laughed.
"Yes, Sir—I mean, yes, Kay," Brody called back. "Yes, Kay!" he whispered.
Then they both turned in opposite directions and ran like hell.
