Grant of Immunity (11 page)

F
itzgerald jumped back
into his car and took off after Babbage, not letting the bastard get out of his sight. He hoped that Babbage was too smart to try anything after reporting in, but Fitzgerald wasn’t going to take any chances. He caught up and then slowed to keep pace. Babbage must have seen him, but it didn’t matter. Fitzgerald had to make sure Babbage drove straight to the jail and followed proper procedure. If Babbage didn’t like Fitzgerald behind him, too fucking bad. What could he do? Call the FBI? Complain to his lieutenant?

They reached the Parker Center jail in downtown L.A. Fitzgerald parked in the employee lot and walked back to where Babbage had parked. Babbage had Erin handcuffed, her hands behind her, and out of the back of the patrol vehicle. He was escorting her to booking. Fitzgerald followed.

Babbage turned. “Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Fitzgerald didn’t reply, just gave Babbage a hard look, and then spoke to Erin. “I’m here. It’ll be okay.”

Babbage glared at him. “Back off, Fitzgerald. You’re in enough trouble. Don’t compound it by interfering with my arrest or attempting to communicate with the prisoner.”

Erin turned, her face contorted with hatred, and spoke to Babbage. “You bastard. You set me up. Who was she? What did you give her to get her to call me? Or was she another one of your victims?”

“Shut up.” Babbage pushed Erin forward so hard that she stumbled, but regained her footing.

“This stinks, Babbage,” Fitzgerald said, “and you know it.”

Babbage shoved Erin through the rear entrance door.

It was all Fitz could do to keep from punching Babbage in the face. Never had he come so close to losing it, but he knew that he had to control himself for Erin’s sake. It gave Fitz some satisfaction to see Babbage so pissed. His face was red, and a vein on the side of his neck throbbed.

The three walked down a short hallway leading to a large, open booking area. Uniformed cops sat at metal desks entering booking information and taking arrestees’ fingerprints.

As they passed the watch commander’s office, a sergeant came out and approached them. Fitzgerald recognized the sergeant as Jerry Smith, one of the two watch commanders. Smith had been assigned to the Parker Center jail for the last fifteen years. Barrel-chested, with close-cropped white hair and dark-blue eyes, he wore a perpetual frown that intimidated the younger cops. But those who regularly worked with him found out he had a wry smile and a dry sense of humor. Smith knew every detective in the Robbery-Homicide Division.

“I’ve got a female to book,” Babbage said, pushing Erin forward.

“Okay, Sergeant,” Smith replied. He motioned toward the bench at the wall. “Sit her there, and I’ll have a female officer process her.”

Smith looked at Fitzgerald and smiled. “Hey, Fitz. What brings you here?”

“He’s friends with this female,” Babbage said. “He’s already interfered in the arrest process. He’s not to communicate with her, by order of Lieutenant Hardy.”

Smith frowned, looked at Fitzgerald, and started to say something, but Fitzgerald shook his head. Smith’s eyes flashed understanding, and he didn’t speak.

Presently, a uniformed Hispanic woman appeared. Her dark hair was pulled back in a bun. She was of medium height, stocky, but looked to be in excellent physical condition. She smiled at Fitzgerald and said, “You have a female to book, Fitz? Kind of late for you detectives, isn’t it?”

“I’m the arresting officer,” Babbage snapped.

The policewoman gave Babbage an icy stare. “Aren’t you a patrol supervisor, Sergeant? What are you doing making an arrest?”

“Just do your job and process the female,” Babbage said.

“Go to hell, Babbage,” the policewoman said. “You may be hot shit in your unit, but in here, we know all about you.” She looked at Erin. “Come with me, ma’am.” She took Erin away to be searched and processed.

Babbage said to Smith, “I’ve got to see the lieutenant briefly, so I’ll be back later to sign the paperwork. Remember, Fitzgerald is not to talk to the female. I’ll ask the lieutenant to call you and fill you in on the details.”

Babbage left.

Smith looked at Fitzgerald. “What’s with him, Fitz? What the hell’s going on?”

“I’m in trouble, Smitty,” Fitzgerald said.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t give you all the details, but I tried to convince Babbage to release the female. This is a bullshit arrest. He says I told him to lie on his report.”

“No one who knows you would believe that, Fitz.”

“This is the woman who accused him of forced oral sex under color of authority. I was the investigating officer on that case.”

“Jesus,” Smitty said. “We’ve all been talking about it. What happened? The fucker should have been fired. I couldn’t believe the guy got reinstated.”

“He had a good lawyer,” Fitzgerald said, and then took a deep breath. “I expect that Lieutenant Hardy will confirm you’re not to let me talk to her.”

“Do you really need to?”

“I’d like to, but I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“I appreciate it,” Smitty said. “I have an idea. Go home. After she’s booked, I’ll let her telephone you there. She’s got a right to call whoever she wants, so I won’t be violating any orders.”

“You’re a pal, Smitty.”

The phone rang and Smitty picked it up.

“Smith here.”

He listened. “Yes, sir. I will, sir. I understand, sir.” Smitty looked at Fitz, nodded, then hung up. “Get out of here, Fitz.”

Fitzgerald drove back to his apartment, poured himself a tall Scotch, and waited by the phone. He was exhausted. The clock over the TV said 11:15 p.m.

The ringing of the telephone on the table next to his chair woke him. His glass had fallen on the floor and spilled. He picked up the phone.

“What am I going to do?” Erin was crying, and there was panic in her voice.

He shook off his sleepiness. “We know he set you up. We’re going to find out just how he did it and shove it down his throat.”

“But how?”

He had no idea. “One thing at a time, all right? Do you know what your bail is?”

“Twenty-five thousand dollars. I don’t have that kind of money.”

“You don’t need it in cash. You can use my place as collateral for a bond. I’ll call someone I know and arrange it for you.”

“But don’t I need to pay something for the bond in cash?” Erin asked.

“Just ten percent. Don’t worry. I have some money put away. I’ll take care of the bond premium. Just pay me back when you can.”

“I will. I promise,” Erin said.

“Once you’re out on bond, you can postpone the hearing on your violation of probation for at least a couple of months. That’ll give us time to uncover the details of how he tricked you and to hold him accountable.”

Fitzgerald didn’t mention his other thought—that if he didn’t bail her out, and a judge sentenced her to jail, then this would be the beginning of a long jail stay, with no chance to arrange her affairs or help with her defense.

Erin said, “I don’t know when I’ll be able to repay you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I have nothing more important to spend my money on.”

“Oh, Fitz. What would I do without you?”

“You’d be just fine. After I hang up, I’ll call the bondsman. You’ll be out in a couple of hours. I’ve got to be back at the station at eight this morning. I’ll check on you, and then I’ll call Sean. We’ll meet this evening and discuss a strategy.”

“Thank you, Fitz.”

Fitzgerald immediately called Thatcher Bail Bonds. He looked at the clock. It was close to 5 a.m. There was no way he could get any sleep. He took a shower, made a cup of coffee and some toast, and headed back to Parker Center.

A
t precisely 8 a.m.
, Fitzgerald walked into Captain Becker’s office. Becker was sitting behind his desk, studying paperwork. “Sit down, Fitz,” he said.

Fitz sat down on the edge of a wooden chair, his back straight, his hands gripping the sides of the seat.

Becker continued to look at the work on his desk for several moments, and then looked up. There was disappointment in his eyes. Fitzgerald shifted in the chair.

“What the fuck were you thinking last night?” Becker said.

“Captain,” Fitz said, “there’s more to this than Babbage’s report shows.”

“I listened to Lieutenant Hardy’s voice recording of your conversation with Babbage.” Becker shook his head. “Jesus Christ, Fitz, what possible reason could you have for asking him to lie on his police report? You know better than to try to get a patrol sergeant to release a suspect who committed a crime in the officer’s presence.”

“There’s a reason, Captain.”

“If you think you can justify this behavior, by all means go ahead.”

Fitzgerald took a breath. “The suspect we’re talking about is Erin Collins. She’s the woman who accused Babbage of forcing her to give him a blowjob after being stopped for a DUI.”

Becker leaned forward, raised an eyebrow, and nodded. “I know. Go on.”

“It’s a setup, Captain. She hadn’t been drinking, hadn’t committed any traffic violations, and wasn’t driving suspiciously. And she had a valid restricted license, which permitted her to drive to and from work and to and from her DUI program.”

Becker interrupted. “But according to the report, she wasn’t going to work or to a program.”

“That’s the bullshit, Captain. The woman really did get a call to come to work. From someone—probably Babbage’s girlfriend.”

“So she says,” Becker interjected. “That’s a pretty serious allegation. And why would Babbage do that—why would he set up a lie that could easily get him fired? It makes no sense.”

“I don’t know why, but I can guess,” Fitzgerald said. “Probably revenge. Or, what worries me is he’s one sick sociopath.”

Becker said nothing, just shook his head.

“Look at it logically, Captain. Babbage says she was not driving to work. But how the fuck did he know that? And this happens a month after Babbage’s trial where the very same woman accused him of misconduct?”

Becker leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. “Let’s assume for the moment what you suggest is true. Babbage stopped this female, and he did it without probable cause. But it’s not unusual for a good cop to follow up on suspects he’s had contact with before, or to detain that suspect randomly. In fact, it’s rather common, isn’t it? You don’t need probable cause. After all, he knew she was on probation.”

“I know,” Fitzgerald admitted. “But this wasn’t a random arrest. She was never detained when she was driving legally, like during the day. She got a phony call to lure her out. That son of a bitch set her up. At the very least, he’s been watching her apartment. He stalked her and stopped her in a location where anybody would be unlikely to see what he was up to. The fucker planned the whole thing.”

Becker considered and then spoke. “Assuming that’s true and he’s rotten, why did you attempt to get Babbage to lie on his report?”

“Actually, I didn’t ask him to lie. What I said, I believed was the truth. Because I thought Erin was in danger, and I did not think she lied, I had to protect her. When I asked him to cut her some slack, he promised to let her go if I’d drive out to the location and meet him. At the time, I still thought he’d be able to release her without having to write an incident report.”

“Can you prove that?” Becker asked.

Fitzgerald shook his head. “There weren’t any witnesses. It was all done over the phone.”

“Over the phone?”

Fitzgerald told Becker about the bogus work-request call Erin had received earlier. Fitzgerald described how Erin had called him from her cell phone, how he’d instructed her to leave it on, and how he stayed on the line, listening to what was said during the traffic stop. Finally, he described how Babbage had agreed to release Erin if Fitzgerald would come to the arrest location within forty-five minutes.

“That’s another suspicious thing,” Fitzgerald added. “If Babbage wasn’t doing anything wrong, why would he even talk to me over the phone? Wouldn’t he just make the arrest and refuse to talk to anyone that a suspect might want him to talk to?”

Becker shook his head. “He covered his ass, you showed yours.”

Becker picked up a document from his desk. Fitzgerald saw it was a preliminary investigation report. “There’s no mention of any cell phone conversation in the report.”

“But there
was
a conversation, Captain …” Fitzgerald frowned. “Wait. Babbage told me he radioed in the stop prior to pulling over Erin. Her cell phone bill would have to indicate the time and length of the call as well as my phone number. That would prove that Babbage and I talked before I arrived at the arrest location, and
before
Babbage recorded his conversation with me.”

Becker looked doubtful. “That doesn’t justify trying to get him to lie on his report.”

“A moment ago you asked me what I was so paranoid about. I think I have good reason to believe that had I not been on the other end of the phone last night, Babbage was planning to hurt Erin Collins.”

Becker shook his head.

“Captain,” Fitzgerald said, “as I said before, Babbage is a fucking sociopath. Four months ago, he stopped Erin at some deserted freeway off-ramp. The Scientific Investigation Division determined that his semen was on her blouse. It doesn’t make a shit of difference whatever else happened that night. Babbage had oral sex with a female detainee while he was in uniform and on duty. And that means that he doesn’t deserve to wear the uniform, no matter what he says.”

“I agree with you,” Becker said. “And I still don’t know what his lawyer said that convinced the Board of Rights people to forego a hearing and reinstate him. But it happened, and you and I have to live with it. And right now we’re talking about your actions, not his. You can complain all you want, but the fact remains that you asked him to lie on a report. The bottom line is, you don’t have a shred of proof that he did anything last night other than what any good cop would have done.”

Becker pulled out his bottom file drawer.

“I might just have that proof,” Fitzgerald said.

Becker stopped what he was doing and looked up at Fitzgerald.

“I’m willing to bet my badge,” Fitzgerald said, “that Erin Collins’s cell phone records will show that the call she made to me last night ended before Babbage radioed in that he was detaining her.”

“And what would that prove?” Becker asked.

“That Babbage lied when he told me during our recorded conversation that he notified dispatch
before
he pulled Erin over.”

Becker raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying he made a night traffic stop without calling in? Without a license plate check and without anything to support probable cause?”

“Exactly,” Fitzgerald said.

Becker said, “When can you get those phone records?”

“I’ll get on it immediately. If I’m right, Babbage wouldn’t have called in the stop because he didn’t plan to arrest Erin at all. And that’s the reason I asked him to lie. Because I’d do whatever was necessary to stop him from harming her.”

Becker looked over Babbage’s report again, and then made some notes on the legal pad on his desk. Finally, he went back to the file drawer in his desk and took out a multi-part form.

Fitzgerald recognized it immediately. It was a suspension notice.

Becker signed the notice, looked at Fitzgerald, and handed it to him. “I have no choice. I’m suspending you, pending your Board of Rights hearing. With pay, of course, but effective immediately. You’d better work on getting those phone records ASAP. For the sake of the department, I hope you’re wrong. But you’re a good cop and a good friend, and when this is all over, I hope you’re vindicated.”

After turning in his badge, ID, and weapon, Fitz went to see Smitty and verified that Erin bailed out the previous night. Smitty told him that Erin’s arraignment on the probation violation was set for Friday, October 27.

Fitz returned home and phoned Sean.

Despite reeling from his suspension, Fitz felt a flash of pride on hearing Sean’s voice. Had it really been nineteen years since he’d first interviewed that lost little boy at MacLaren Hall?

“Hi, Fitz.” Sean said. “Sorry you had to wait. I was in a meeting with my boss. Looks like I’ll be trying my first case next week. A petty theft case. My client was charged with shoplifting cosmetics at a drugstore. She teaches second grade. If she gets convicted, it’s the end of her career.”

“Sounds like a challenge.”

“It’s a lot of pressure. She’s innocent. She absentmindedly put a lipstick in her purse and left without paying for it.”

Fitz had heard that line before, and he smiled to himself. Sean was still an idealist. Good for him. “Well, if you work on this case like you work on everything else, the woman is as good as acquitted.”

“I appreciate your confidence. What’s up?”

“I need your help.”

“
My
help? This has to be a first. You know I’ll do whatever you need me to do. Just ask.”

Fitz swallowed. “I’ve been suspended.”

“Holy shit. For what?”

“It’s complicated.”

Sean pressed for details and Fitz told him about the events that led to his suspension, ending with the conversation that morning with Captain Becker. It felt good to get it all out to someone he trusted.

Sean had said little during the narration. “Well,” Fitz said finally, “was I stupid last night, or what?”

“I don’t see how you could have played it any differently. If you’re right and Babbage didn’t radio in until after your conversation with him, he was up to something. And any cop who’d use his power once to coerce sex from a woman is capable of anything.” Sean paused. “But if he radioed in prior to the stop, you’re in real trouble.”

“My analysis exactly,” Fitz said. “So, my number one priority is to find out about that phone call and the exact time of the stop.”

“I can help you find out the time of the stop,” Sean said. “Erin can get her own phone record online.”

“Erin’s arraignment on the probation violation is in three weeks. Friday, October twenty-seventh, in Division 103.”

“Division 103—that would be Judge Hart,” Sean said.

Fitz smiled. Sean had a natural, instinctive understanding of the law. Fitz had sat through many hearings in his years as a cop, and he’d learned that the most important quality a lawyer could have was to believe in a client’s case and possess a willingness to do whatever was necessary and ethical to get justice. Without that quality, the most experienced and knowledgeable lawyer wasn’t worth a damn.

“I’ll talk to my boss and see what he thinks, too. In the meantime, I’ll research the law and find out exactly what’s involved. I’ll let you know.” He paused. “Can we meet tonight and talk more about this?”

“My place at seven o’clock? I’ll order a pizza.”

“I’ll be there,” Sean said.