It Is Never Too Late
Sally Randolf had had a tough life. Systematically abused and molested by her step-father she had run away from home when she was 16 and married Bruce Randolf when she was 19.
Ten years later life was not any better. In a house sieged by cops, Sally was wondering whether to surrender or pull the trigger. She had nothing against the little girl. Young Mel was a hard worker and for the greater part – quite obedient; of all of their wards she needed the least beating.
Before Sally had managed to make a decision a strong hand pulled her back. She found herself paralysed and helplessly observed the gun drop to the ground and Mel finding herself in the arms of a tall stranger.
By the time uniforms invaded the house she had regained her senses just enough to feel cold metallic grip around her wrists.
XXXX
Tara pulled a piece of paper and started reading.
'You may know that the owner of 'Soirée' provides his own alcoholic supplies…'
'Yes?'
'But did you know that he does so for other clubs, too?'
Silence.
'For 100 points, guess the clubs…'
'You're joking...'
Tara handed the paper to her Captain.
'That's the common link – all fours clubs receive their daily beer shipment from 'DJ Ltd', the supplying company of Darren Jones, also owner of 'Soirée'.
Kermit was shocked.
'So… We interrogate Jones?' Brian decided to make another try.
'We check his staff. Considering his size, a big, bulky man would probably be used for manual work. Our rapist has most likely not specifically stalked his victims; he has just spotted them… without being spotted himself. That's the problem with our society – we choose not to see what we don't like… or feel is inferior to us.'
'…In this way,' continued Kermit, 'we have a basketball team congratulating their captain…'
'…thus ignoring the massive man with a crate or two in his hands. Exactly.'
Tara was applying shiny make-up.
'Good that I brought my fake glasses,' she said and put a pair of elegant glasses that made her look like a very sexy math teacher.
'C'mon Ken.' She meant Brian.
'I'm coming with you.'
'Kermit… Sorry, Captain, we're just going to take a look. If he's there, I'll call for back-up. I promise.'
Kermit mumbled 'I doubt it' and grunting hid in his den.
'Ken!'
'It's Brian…'
'I'll stick to Ken for now.' She glared severely in Morris's eyes. 'Do you mind… Ken?'
'N-not at all…'
'Good.' Tara put a knee-long coat on. 'C'mon, Ken, chop chop.'
Morris barely managed to grab his own jacket and hurried ahead. This was going to be a very long day.
XXXX
The car was already on the way, Mel was still in Peter's arms. The frightened girl had curled up next to her guardian and was hiding face on his chest.
'It's OK, honey, you're safe now. You're safe….' Peter kept whispering words of consolation until the girl finally looked up. Her face immediately brightened when she saw the old, brown house remaining behind them.
It was a police car they were in. One of the uniforms was driving, with Mrs Gerard next to him on the front seat. Peter was going to worry about his own car later.
'Mel?' Mrs Gerard, quite cold-hearted in her 25 years of experience, couldn't wait to get the information she needed. 'Mel, we need to talk about your foster-father…'
Peter was about to object but the 10-year-old was faster.
'Don't call him like that! Father is something special, and that horrible man was nothing like it.' She paused and looked at Peter's concerned face. '…The only father I've ever had is Pete.'
Having said that Mel cuddled back in Peter's arms. Unbeknownst to the people in front Peter was gently pressing a special part of the girl's back; in a minute the child was sound asleep.
Meanwhile the young priest was absently observing the fast changing sequence of houses. Mel was right, father was something special, it was a title. It took more than foster-care assignment for one to call himself a father…
X
It was not so much Peter's interference, as Dr Sabourin's quick reaction that caused the havoc. Nurses and medical personnel were coming and going. Annie had been forced to leave the seat by her fading husband and deal with formalities.
Peter didn't move. Blood poisoning! The two words were echoing in his head. His eyes fell on the backpack full of herbs. Tara's ringing voice filled his mind and his heart.
'…Cure for blood poisoning...'
Almost automatically two hands with tiger and dragon on the forearms stretched for the bag. Carefully the three herbs were selected and placed on the bed side table.
'…Equal parts...'
How was he to select those equal parts? How were they to be brewed? The answer revealed itself under the form of powerful presence; Peter turned to see the Ancient's little figure behind.
'What…'
'You have all the herbs?'
'Yes, they're right here.'
'Good.' In that moment Dr Sabourin entered together with a nurse. 'This young man will need some bowls… and hot water, please.'
'What's going on here?' The nurse reacted as she had been taught. 'These plants are to be taken out of here at once!'
'Hush…' The Doctor approached. 'Would these herbs help?'
'They would not treat his tumour, it is too late for that. But they will cleanse his blood…' The old man turned to Paul. '…and will give him the time he needs.'
'So it is blood poisoning?'
'Yes.'
'Bring the man what he needs. Hurry!'
Dr Sabourin approached the bed.
'Mr Blaisdell?'
'Still here,' answered Paul and opened eyes.
'Would you agree to a slightly… more untraditional treatment? I'm afraid the poisoning might have progressed too far for our medications.'
Paul turned and saw the old man.
'Would this help?'
'It will… give you some more time with…'
'All I want! Do it!'
'You will be in great pain…'
'I am… accustomed… to pain…'
Peter smiled and caressed the wrinkled forehead.
'I'll be here, Dad, I'll be here all the time.'
Slightly surprised the Ancient peeked at Peter; the young man was holding his foster-father's hand.
Paul relaxed and his son's attention returned to the older man.
'Lo…Pi….. Why are you doing this?'
'It is the least I can do, Peter,' replied the Ancient and unfolded the papers with the herbs in them. 'You will add one handful of each to the hot water. You will wait half hour. Then you will pour of the tea just this much,' the old man pointed at a small Chinese tea cup, 'and give it to him while the rest of the herbs keep soaking. You will do this every half hour. The liquid will be getting stronger… and it will cause your foster-father more and more pain… In the end he will sweat, he may throw up a few times, but he will be fine.'
'Why does this routine seem so…familiar?'
'This is the treatment your father used when you had been injected with an over-dose of drugs.'
Both foster-father and son stared intently at the Ancient. None of them had ever received a satisfactory answer to how exactly Peter survived that night. Paul held his son's hand tighter. Peter nodded, and as soon as the hot water arrived he set to work. There was no need to look for the Ancient; the old man was gone.
XXXX
They were not too far from Main when Morris finally spoke.
'I don't mean to sound more ignorant than I already have, but what are we doing?'
Tara smiled.
'We're entering inside pretending to be an arguing couple.' Morris lifted and eye-brow. 'Then I set myself as bait. I search for a place to attract the predator. You wait five minutes and follow.'
They parked.
'Understood?' Tara's voice sounded demanding.
'Five minutes. Understood.'
Before they entered 'Soirée' Morris heard the first good thing about himself today.
'Hey, Morris… You're not ignorant.'
As soon as they got in the hunting began. Aggressively Tara pushed her subordinate.
'I don't care what you want,' she shouted. 'I'm doing it, understood?'
'What the….'
'You're not telling me what to do!'
The detective was stunned.
'Play along, you dope,' hissed Tara and pushed him again. 'Now just keep away from me!' she shouted and pushed Morris one more time.
'All… right…' Quietly the cop sat and watched.
The Chinese stunner, having made herself look like a successful career woman from the Bank district, sat by the bar. The place was naturally empty, but still open, so a lot of the staff was to be seen preparing for a busy night. Naturally they were mostly stocking the shelves and fridges.
'Hey, you, you serving?' The young woman sat on one of the tall chairs, her deliberately short skirt revealed a pair of endless legs that made her new subordinate just stare blankly and gulp.
The owner was at present behind the bar. Annoyed, he approached.
'Martini, just a breath of vermouth.'
'Too early to drink, isn't it?' hinted the man while mixing the drink.
Like by order in that very moment two heavy-looking men passed, each carrying two crates of beer. Tara's answer boomed through the empty place.
'Look, pal, I'm making 100 bucks and hour. I can drink whatever I wan', whenever I wan'. 'K?'
'OK…'
With the corner of her eyes Tara followed the direction the two men went in. Nervously she reached for her cell and started fuming over the bad signal.
'Uhm… Hey… you… Yeah, the bar-guy… I need some signal and a quiet place. You got back yard or something?'
'Y-yes…'
Tara left, taking care that her heels made as much noise as possible.
'It's my broker…'
Morris counted. He had noticed the big men with the crates but their faces remained hidden to him. All he had to do now was wait. Nervously he checked his watch. He was certain that if nothing happened back there his new chief would be back in no time. Yet, three minutes later she was still missing.
Four minutes.
Five…
The detective checked his gun and headed for the back. At the protesting owner he flashed his badge and made a sign for silence. Few metres later Brian Morris was standing in front of a sight that Western science had taught him was not possible.
There, surrounded by empty crates and broken glass, Chief Jahn was standing next to a massive man with long, copper-red hair. He was at her feet. She one finger pressed against him. The man was sobbing.
'S-stop…it I… I d-did it… Th-they were asking f-for it… S-stop, p-please…it h-hurts...'
One finger!
Victoriously the big, black eyes shot Morris a glance. The club owner was peeking from behind.
'So you confess?'
'Yes!... I… I d-didn't mean to k-kill the l-last one…'
Tara pulled a pair of hand-cuffs, slightly different than the usual ones. Then she leaned and pulled the giant like he weighed nothing.
'You're under arrest…'
Morris didn't even bother listen to the rest. It was unfathomable, impossible. When finally they made it back to the precinct, he was still trying to figure how such a fragile-looking creature like his new chief could subdue a man three times her size.
X
The trio's arrival at the precinct caused a moment of silence. Morris was taking the giant to a cell. Tara only allowed herself the luxury to inspect the result of her hunting from the front desk. Sensing a much lighter grip, the huge man, named Ainslie Shmidt, tried to show some resistance, mostly for his own self-respect. The moment he attempted that the slender Chinese, who was writing something, raised voice without even looking at him.
'Ainslie, behave yourself… Don't make me come in there…'
The man's pupils doubled their size.
'Keep her away from me. Away from me!'
The fear in his eyes made the stunned cops look back, just to make sure that he really meant the tender-looking creature that had become their new Chief, one who could easily fit in the man's trouser leg.
'Now, that's what I call a morning well used,' smiled Tara and left the speechless Broderick ponder over the universe and its mysteries. 'Excuse me, serg, I really need to slip into something more comfortable…'
XXX
A bump on the slippery road distracted Peter from the painful memory. Mel also woke up and just in time to see the front of the local police station. The little girl held her guardian's arm tight.
'Why are we at the police?'
'It's just a formality,' smiled Peter and stroke the messy hair. A pair of worried, brown eyes was peeking at him. As if reading the girl's mind he assured her that she was staying with him and nowhere else.
Inside the broad building they didn't find the noisy mess so typical of a big city precinct. Deputy Stevens lead them to the Chief's office where Peter had to face a small mountain of paperwork.
'Peter Caine?'
The voice belonged to Tim Donovan, an old acquaintance from the police academy.
'Tim? He-hey, buddy…'
'I can't believe it! It must be… what, 10 years?'
'Ten years at least.'
'You're very popular, Mr Caine,' approached Detective Harris, trying to make herself as familiar with the former cop as possible.
'Nah, just an old pal from the Academy.'
'You graduated together?'
'Yeah, right,' laughed Donovan. The hot-shot here was at the top. Me, I graduated in the Golden Middle with the simple mortals.
Abashed Peter turned to Harris.
'Yes, we graduated together.'
Donovan had been assigned to 74th in Sloanville but life, as well as the eyes of a pretty girl, had taken him to Riverton.
'So, it's true… You're not a cop any more?'
'Nope. Now I'm dealing with little rascals and stray dogs.'
'Hey!'
A frowned little face was looking at him from bellow.
'Some of them particularly annoying,' winked Peter and tickled Mel. 'Come on… Nice seeing you, Timmy.'
'Take care, Pete.'
Mel was her guardian's shadow, so much that he had difficulties sitting. A woman that looked like a strict governess was waiting for them; the young girl positioned herself as far away from her as possible.
'Is this Melanie?'
'Yes. And you are…'
'Ruth Smith, Chief of Social Services, Riverton County. Mrs Gerard kept me up to date with Melanie's case.
'Great. In this case you know that Mel is coming with me.'
'Melanie is going to a new foster home…'
'…that I am going to hand pick for her,' replied Peter in an aggressive manner.
They were interrupted by Detectives Harris and Weaver who brought what seemed like another mountain of papers.
'Mr Caine, you're not capable of choosing properly. There are criteria…'
'With all due respect, Mrs Smith, after the mess you got my girl into I don't think you're in the position to discuss capability...'
'Alright,' interfered Mrs Gerard. 'Mel will be back into the care of Sloanville Social Services 72 hours after her return to the city. This is all the time you…'
'...It's all I need.'
'Really?' exclaimed Mel and wrapped hands around her hero's neck.'
'…will have before Melanie is transferred to an orphanage.' The social worker was not the least moved.
'If I don't find anyone… I'll take her.'
'Really?!' Tears were glittering in the light-brown eyes. 'Don't wait. Take me now, Pete, please!
'Honey…'
'Melanie, Mr Caine can only be your legal guardian.'
'He's my Daddy,' hissed the girl and leaned head on Peter's shoulder holding him even tighter.
'Mel, you're exaggerating,' whispered the priest. He was quickly regretting his haste.
'But you are! For most of us you're the only Dad we've ever had.'
'Who is us, Melanie,' asked Mrs Smith with a flat voice.
'The other kids… at the Centre.' Then she turned to Peter. 'Please, take me!'
'Mel, I'd love that, but you need a proper family, honey, and I'm all alone.'
The girl pouted.
'Listen, you need the caress of a mother and the protection of a father. And I… I'm on the move the whole day. I don't even have a proper home.'
'I don't care.'
'Look… I… I'll find you a good home. This time I will select the people. Personally.'
'What if they suck?'
'No one can lie to a Shaolin, remember?'
Mel nodded and was rewarded with a quick kiss on the forehead.
XXXX
The day continued normally, at least for Chief Tara Jahn. To her the Shmidt case was closed, another red point in the long list of cases she had cracked. Of course, for the detectives of 101st it was different since one of their own was amongst the victims, but Tara would rather not think of that.
If she thought, she would feel. If the felt, she would get emotional. And emotions are a human's greatest enemy.
Tara had masterfully learned to keep her own emotions hidden, there was no point in changing that now.
X
The click from the light switch echoed in the big, cold room. Tara's briefcase landed on a sheet-covered couch with a muffled sound. A cloud of dust briefly levitated above the leather and dissolved. She started making her way through the boxes. While taking refreshing sips of lemon water in her kitchen, the new police chief considered that this was going to be how her living room would look like for the next week at least.
After a fruitful first day of fighting crime in the big city, Tara had managed only a fraction of the paperwork inherited from Strenlich. It was nothing she couldn't handle in a day or two but there was no way she would sit and watch her new team handle the adversities of the criminal world from the comfort of her den.
The west side of her broad, Π-shaped ground floor had a comfy couch that was going to serve as a bed for the time being. The spacious and absolutely wonderful master bedroom on the upper level would have been a much more fortunate place but what should have been a bed was dismantled in pieces, and there was no mattress either.
Well, the fireplace was functioning at least…
A cold dinner and a warm shower later, Tara nested under two thick blankets; work could wait until tomorrow.
One half of a jade Yin-Yang pendant was hanging round her neck. She kissed the accessory and stared at the mesmerising dance of the flames, allowing their glow to take her to another night of nightmares.
XXXX
'You're taking this very personally,' remarked Harris, who was in the meantime getting ever more interested in the attractive former cop.
'A child needs a family,' was the cold reply. 'And family has nothing to do with blood.'
X
The first portion of the tea was bearable, even pleasant. The second was bitter, and the third – simply painful.
It was just father and son in the room. The girls had finally persuaded Annie to have some rest, while Simon was more than happy to leave this full of death and smell of death place.
Paul could swear that he was already feeling better. The doctors had determined that it was too late to treat the blood poisoning so they easily agreed to leave them alone. When the captain opened eyes he saw his son there, by his side, where he'd always wanted him to be, with gaze wandering beyond the dull window view.
'Paul…' Peter stirred.
'I thought…' He coughed. '…you'd never notice…'. He smiled and lifted trembling hand. Readily his boy offered himself to the caress.
'What is it?'
'You mean other than my Dad of 20 years fighting death?'
'Yes.'
Peter's ironic smile froze.
'…Nothing… It's nothing… Here, have some water, in 10 minutes you're having the next dose.'
'Yuck.'
During the next 12 hours Paul Blaisdell's miraculous recovery became the talk of the hospital. Several times Dr Sabourin enquired about the mixture Peter used, and several times the young Shaolin was mortified by his ignorance on the subject of herbal medicine. All he could do was readily give her samples of his herbs and leave it to her to figure them out.
The last thing Peter remembered from this day was his talk with Kermit.
It must have been after midnight. Annie had taken night watch by Paul's bed thus giving Peter the opportunity to have his first bite for the day. After leaving his old friend's room, Kermit nested next to his younger friend.
'That was close…'
'Yeah,' smacked Peter and sipped coffee.
'Pete, it's OK, he'll be all right…'
Peter's empty expression betrayed no emotion whatsoever, so Kermit had to guess; and he couldn't have been more wrong.
'God, Kermit… I can't stop thinking about her.'
The green shades grinned.
'I wake up and I fall asleep with the image of her eyes…'
'Pete…'
'I think I'm losing her.'
'Peter…'
'It's me, you know, me and my Caine-luck. I know it, I'll never see her again, I just know it… Gosh, look at me, I'm pathetic.'
'Why?!'
'Paul almost died and all I can think of is one… ghost.'
'OK… First things first. Considering Tara's full recovery, I wouldn't refer to her as a 'ghost'.'
Peter stared.
'You… you saw her?'
'I was with her for weeks, you, dummy, remember?'
'H...' He gulped. 'How is she!?'
'Fully recovered and getting ready.'
'?!'
'…To come here.'
'Why are you messing with me?'
'Is it so hard to believe?'
'That Peter Caine can be happy? Oh, yes!'
'Get used to it.'
For a while nobody said anything, Peter continued with his dinner and Kermit was playing with something.
'Look, Pete… We really have a lot to talk, 6 months is a long time. But it's late and after this hell of a day we both can use some sleep.' Peter moved eyebrows enough to point that he agreed and reached for another fry. 'However, I can understand your pressure.' He finally handed Peter a little velvet pouch he'd been fidgeting with for a while. 'Here, I think this will make the waiting a bit more bearable.'
'For me?'
'Yes. Open it.'
Absently Peter wiped fingers and took the pouch. Inside he found a tear-shaped white pendant. Looking at it closely he realised it was the one half of the Yin-Yang symbol, made of a rare type of jade.
'It's Tara's.'
No response came.
'She wants you to keep it for her. You know… until she comes for it.'
Peter held the little ornament like it was a precious relic. Tenderness that he had not felt in many months overpowered him. He leaned, caressed the little pendant with fingertip and kissed it. Then he hung it round his neck.
'Thanks, buddy. For everything.'
Kermit smiled and fixed his green shades. Then he left.
X
He must have been playing with the keys to his hotel room for a while.
'Thank you, Mr Caine.'
'Huh? …Oh… yeah, no big deal, I'm happy to do it. Come on, Mel.'
'You know…' The 10-year-old shot him a mischievous look. 'I figured it. You need a girlfriend.'
Peter started blushing.
'Oh, boy…'
'If you have a girlfriend, then you may get married, and then you can take me.' She grinned.
Detective Harris had been kind enough to take the pair to a hotel where they had a two-bedroom suite waiting. Currently she was feeling rather uncomfortable when two assertive eyes inspected her from below.
'Are you single?'
Peter sighed.
'As a matter of fact I am.'
Discomfort left aside, Harris needed very little time to appreciate Peter Caine's qualities. She was also shameless enough to look him straight in the eyes when she manifested her civil status.
'I'll get you for this,' he whispered to the little matchmaker. 'Uhm… Have a good evening, Detective, I'll see you tomorrow?'
'Of course. I'm really looking forward to working with you,' purred Harris and winked playfully.
XXXX
'Working late again?'
'You never told me captainhood is so tiresome.'
'Wait to see what commissionhood does to you.'
Karen smiled and sat next to her partner.
'Is Chris asleep?'
'Yes, thank God. The Ancient's herbs did miracles with her tooth. …What are you doing?'
'I'm making Melanie Winch's case known to everyone on the fostering and on the adoption list. We'll have less than 3 days after she comes back.'
'He can't save all children, for heaven's sake!'
'Tell it to him.'
'Sure. When is he back, anyway?'
'Any of these days… He's staying in Riverton to help with some weird homicide.'
'So, it will be a while…'
'I know, but it should give her time to adjust. It's probably better that way.'
'Yes.' Karen kissed her partner. 'Don't be too long.'
XXX
