ACT VI

I, Elisa Maza, knew almost everything about Selwyn Aloysius Baker. The second-wisest man I'd ever met enlisted in the Army Military Police Corps in 1967, serving in Vietnam and the Presidio. He joined the New York City Police Department in 1969, graduated first in his class at the Police Academy and was promoted to Detective in 1974, years later to Sergeant.

Sel graduated both the FBI National Academy and Law Enforcement Supervisory Leadership Institute of Manhattan. He had a Masters in Public Administration from Notre Dame, a Bachelor of Arts Degree in Public Service at E.S.U. and an Associate of Arts Degree in Criminal Justice at John Jay College

Sel supervised Training/Recruitment Divisions, Street Crimes Unit, and his final, most favorite, Day Shift Patrol. He received commendations from citizens, police, the New York State Senate and the New York State Assembly. He was both a National Exchange Club Officer of the Year and a Yogi Berra Work Attendance Award recipient.

He held a Manhattan Community Colleges Lifetime Teaching Credential and for most of his police career taught in the Administration of Justice Program at John Jay.

On my first Academy day, Sel took me under his wing and never rescinded. Whenever I fouled up a drill he forced me to do it better. Whenever I wavered on morality, he was my compass.

More often than not, we accepted his invitations to Thanksgivings, Christmases, and July Fourths. His lovely wife Tessie was the sweetest woman I had ever broken bread with.

Selwyn was a friend, an inspiration and probably a murderer.

"I'm on my way," I meekly answered the warden and hung up. "We have to go to Rikers. My mentor is asking for me."

"Your mentor? But...what about this case?" He placed his hand on my shoulder

"Fuck this case!" I saw thru a haze and I swatted it off.

"Okay, I'm with you one hundred percent. Just let me drive." Jason held up hands to block my sticks and stones.

While I sat and fixated on the floorboards, he programmed the GPS and drove us to the world-famous prison. The less quaint city quickly rolled in shit after it woke up. I massaged my temples while immersed in the filth. "I need to use your phone."

Jason wisely hadn't addressed his concerns but I sensed them. I couldn't even muster an apology for the cuss out. Fucking Christ, he'd have no clue what Selwyn meant to me, to my career.

After crossing the Rikers Island Bridge and parking, Jason and I submitted our weapons at the checkpoint.

"He's on suicide watch," Warden Riazzi said while waiting. He was a stocky, authoritative and imposing man.

A corrections officer led the three of us toward the visiting room. It was an arduous walk for me, even with Jason in tow. The room was empty until we entered its foyer.

"You'll have twenty minutes," Riazzi mentioned to us.

As we entered, I regressed to the scared, timid child from yesterday. How could I not have with the near-loss of Angela and possible loss of a career-long advisor? I turned away from the second door.

"Shit, I…I can't do this," I said to no one in particular.

"I think you have to," Jason affixed his sight to mine, reinvigorating me.

We silently waited at a table. Escorted by another officer was Selwyn Baker, a white-haired Caucasian man in his 60s clad in a prison jumpsuit. The door shut behind him upon entrance.

"Elisa Maza, you showed up," Sel observed. "Who's that?"

"Jason, my new partner."

He visually scrutinized Jason then looked back at me. "That punk doesn't look like a cop at all."

"With all due respect, you don't either," Jason defensively replied.

I silently disciplined Jason. He understood my wordless instruction, called the guard and left once the doors opened. Selwyn and I sat across from each other for five seconds of silence. All color in his face was absent.

"Did you contact your P.B.A. attorney?" I asked.

"Yes, but it doesn't matter." He cleared his throat before continuing. "Tessie asked me to take out the trash but those Febreze bags masked the stink quite well. It was trash day so I thought she would ask again at some point. I then went to the attic to look at my old service weapon. It was in excellent condition. I don't believe I ever fired it in the field."

"Wh-what the hell are you talking about?" I didn't want to hear what he'd say next.

"I cleaned it. I loaded it. Tessie was in the kitchen washing dishes. I walked up and I shot her."

Sel just confessed to me to the murder of his wife. I'd just joined those who were hit by a ton of bricks, but I desperately wanted to find a loophole. "Were you high? Were you drunk? What about your health?"

"You know I don't drink or use drugs. And I got a physical and psych evaluation a week ago. Everything checks out."

"Then why?" It came out raspy.

"I didn't snap, Cadet. My entire life was pretending to be noble, but I'm a monster. I'm sorry if I let you down," Sel calmly, meekly dictated.

"Let me down? Why'd you even call me? And if your answer is because you're in love with me, I'll fucking beat the shit out of you right here and now."

"You're acting a part; hiding from your destiny."

"Jesus Christ almighty, answer my fucking question!" I slammed my fist on the metallic table.

"In the past couple of years, you've been hiding something. You can't bottle it up anymore! It will negatively affect you too much."

"How sage, I can be just like you," I sarcastically added through clenched teeth.

"You misunderstand, Elisa. I didn't...I don't want you to be anything like me." He said.

I had little more to say, except, "I loved your commencement speech at my Academy graduation."

He seemed relieved for a hot second. I'd already cued my favorite video on Jason's phone. "Once all of you finally hit the streets you'll notice an exorbitant amount of bad people. And even though they haven't met you they already despise you. But don't transform a damn thing about yourselves as a preemptive strike. If you do, the bad ones have already beaten you. Stay true to yourself and you'll be…"

"…the greatest people on Earth." Sel finished simultaneously with his own recorded voice.

"Hollow, meaningless words," I amended.

"But they don't have to be," He squeaked out.

"Burn in Hell." I then alerted the guard.

"Watch out for that Jason fella. He's definitely not what he appears to be."

I paused before the second door, not looked back, and completely exited the room. Selwyn Baker was an inconscionable monster.

I needed Goliath, who was still a friggin' statue. Mom was in Africa. Dad and Beth were in Arizona. Matt was wherever. I was alone by my car not realizing how or when I got there.

"Elisa, your sidearm," Jason announced.

I touched my empty holster then saw him ease toward me and hand it over by its barrel. My carelessness perpetuated.

"You can still drive. You've earned it," I said while I holstered it.

Selwyn was erroneous. Jason was a sensational partner and friend who picked up my slack yet again.

I wasn't alone.

END ACT VI