Unpaid Dues (28 page)

"They don't have shit. They never have. They're
playing you."

"Nobody' s playing me. They might have played
Jane, but she was never that bright."

"
She wasn't that dumb either."

"How's that?"

"She would never go against me."

"
Maybe she wasn't as scared of you as you'd like
to think."

The clip digging into the soft flesh of her chest
began  to burn. She longed to itch the spot. She squeezed her
arms at her sides, pushing her breasts together to relieve the
pressure.

The movement brought his focus to her cleavage, but
his expression was dark.

"
What are you saying?" he asked.

She followed his gaze and saw the slight square
protrusion in her blouse. "If they talk to you, what will you
say?"

"I won't say shit. I wasn't there."

"Someone must have seen you guys in the hallway
or leaving the building."

"
Who?"

"They didn't tell me."

"They didn't tell you because there isn't
anyone. It's bullshit."

The clip on her bra made a slight click as it
disengaged.

Thor reached out to her with surprising speed and
clamped a hand over her mouth. His other hand went to the back of her
head and he lifted her like that, right off the chair. She kicked at
it, hoping to make a racket. Her heel only glanced off the seat. It
scooted back a few inches, but remained upright.

She ripped at his hands, trying to pry them loose. He
was covering her nose too and she couldn't get any air. He dragged
her to a side door, pushing it open with his hip, and then they were
outside next to the halfway house's small fleet of vans. Her feet
made periodic skips on the dirt seeking leverage, but he was too
strong. Her vision grew dark and her fingers tingled as the lack of
oxygen shut down her body. Thor spun her so that the back of her head
was in his chest, which freed his hand to rip open her shirt.

She flailed at his eyes, but he seemed impervious to
her attack. The wire separated easily from the microphone in his big
hand. He slid the van door open, lifted her head by the hair. She
only had time to draw one breath before his fist slammed into the
bridge of her nose and sent her spiraling to the back of the van.

"
Something's wrong," Rico said.

St. John felt it too. "We've lost the feed."

"Let's go now."

They opened their doors
and stepped out just as a white van burst through the chain-link
gate.

* * *

Munch felt the thickening flesh between her eyes. She
wasn't out, not completely; but it was a moment before she could
collect her thoughts.

"
Is this your doing too?" Thor snarled as
he waved a blue greeting card envelope over his head. "Every
fucking year? You and that cunt fucking with my head?"

She buried her face in her knees, fighting to return
to full consciousness.

Get it together:

The van shook as it rumbled over unpaved ground. She
heard a train's air horn from a distance. A crate full of plumbing
fixtures slid out from beneath the front seat and came to rest by her
foot. There were no good-size lengths of pipes, none suitable as a
club, mostly elbows and threaded brass tees.

She heard sirens and hoped they were coming for her,
hoped they wouldn't be too late. She stood, grasping at steel
reinforcement beams on the van's walls. The back door was blocked by
gallon cans of paint, thick canvas tarps, and wooden ladders. There
was no handle on the inside of the side door and she would never make
it to the front passenger door without him grabbing her and stopping
her. The sound of the train grew louder. Now she heard the ding,
ding, ding of the railroad crossing gate.

She grabbed a plumbing fixture from the box and threw
it at his head. It missed him but hit the windshield, cracking it. He
pitched the steering wheel hard to the right and she went down again.
The box of plumbing parts spilled out and rolled with her on the
van's dirty uncarpeted floor. She picked up whatever was loose and
threw the various pieces of copper and steel at him, aiming at his
head, all the while screaming at him in her rage. The van rocked as
the steering wheel jerked from side to side in his hands. She knew
that the chances were good they'd roll, but in her fury she didn't
care. She wanted him hurt and she wanted him stopped. At any cost.

There was a sound of cracking wood as the van burst
through the red wooden arm of the semaphore signal pole. She heard
the hiss and scream of the train's air brakes, the blare of its
warning horn. The rear of the van cleared the tracks. Almost. There
was a sickening, ugly crunch as metal tore into metal, then mated in
a deadly embrace. The van was blown along as if in a hurricane. She
braced herself for impact. The scream of steel on steel filled her
head. Different-colored lights flashed through the windows. She threw
an arm across her eyes and knew she was going to die.

The forward momentum stopped, shifting suddenly and
violently to a sideways roll as the van broke loose from the train.
She rolled with the inside of the van, losing sense of up and down,
night and day At last it came to a creaking halt upright.

Some time must have passed because she realized she
was waking up. The roof was dented in. The shattered glass of the
windshield held together by its lamination folded inward, leaving the
windshield wipers sticking, incongruously unbent, into midair. She
realized something else. She was alone.

Carefully and slowly she moved her limbs. Everything
seemed to work. There was a sharp stabbing pain in her right ankle
and when she pulled her pant leg up she discovered she'd lost some
flesh on her shin. Floodlights from overhead filled the van. A voice
on a megaphone warned her to come out slowly with her hands in the
air.

Fuck 'em, she thought. They could come to her.

Then she had an unpleasant notion involving tear gas
and stun grenades and decided that she'd better do as they asked.

She limped to the front seat of the van, climbing
over the engine cover to get there. Broken glass littered the seat.
The engine had stalled. She reached over and shut off the key while
yelling, "I'm coming out. Alone."

The train had come to a stop and the night was filled
with urgent sirens. St. John, Rico, and Cassiletti arrived in their
undercover car. Their badges were now displayed prominently on their
chests. Rico had lost the beanie. He got to her first.

"Are you all right?"

"
Just a few bumps."

He had her face between his hands and was examining
her nose. "I don't think it's broken but you're going to have a
couple shiners."

"
Did you get him?"

"Not yet. Was he hurt?"

"
Not enough apparently"
 
"That's my girl."

"Am I?"

St. John reached them. "Did you see what
direction he went?"

"No, sorry"

"Don't be sorry Shit, I'm the one who's sorry"
He spit. "Let's get an ambulance over here. Move it."

"I'm fine."

St. John put an arm around her and squeezed. She
heard something go crack in the joints of her back, but tried not to
wince.

He glared at the damaged van. "What a fuckup."
He squeezed her again, drawing her into his reassuring warmth. "You
sure you're okay?" Before she had a chance to answer he said,
"Let's get you checked out. Son of a bitch/."

"
I'll take her," Rico said.

"No," she said. "I just want to go
home."

"First we have to go back to the station,"
St. John said. "I'll call Caroline and tell her what's going on.
We better get some ice on that nose."

"I was going to say that," Rico said.

St. John looked at him coldly "Yeah, you were
going to say a lot of things, weren't you?"

"Oh for crying out loud," Munch said.
 

Chapter 24

Munch accompanied St. John, Rico, and Cassiletti back
to the station in West Los Angeles, where Munch was ensconced in the
victims' room. It was the size of a cell, but decorated like a
drawing room with comfortable armchairs, a table lamp, and pictures
on the walls, which were painted a soothing shade of tangerine. The
walls were thick enough to keep out the sounds of the police station,
but there was nothing to be done for the voices shouting in her head.

Cassiletti brought her ice wrapped in a short white
gym towel and helped her clean out the wound on her leg, apply salve,
and wrap it with a bandage.

Rico stood by until Cassiletti announced, "That
should do it."

Munch stood and tested her ankle. It took her weight,
but just to make sure she bounced on it a few times.

"
Go easy" Cassiletti warned.

Rico handed him two dollars. "Would you mind
getting us a couple sodas?"

Cassiletti took the bills and the hint.

When they were alone, Munch spoke first. "I know
about you and Kathy "

"What do you know?"

"Her dad says she's engaged to a cop. Has to be
you. Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're not wrong."

She let the towel full of ice slip to the floor. "So
that's it?"

"No, there's more."

She breathed through her mouth shallowly trying to
lessen the pain around her heart. "What more can there be?"

"All I've ever wanted is to be a cop. I love my
job. I've told you that."

"
You've told me a lot of things."

"I've always tried to do the right thing. It's
not always the easy choice, but for me it's always been the only one.
Until now. I've been going back and forth, asking God for a sign."

"Couldn't you have waited one more day?"

"
Kathy's pregnant."

Munch sat down heavily; not expecting this additional
wound. "How long?"

"
A few months."

Munch nodded dumbly the math was simple.

Their relationship was doomed before it had ever
begun.

"She's Catholic," he said. "So am I,
supposedly."

Her stomach cramped with the onset of diarrhea. He
reached for her hand, but she pulled away He nodded as if he
understood. "The brass has been scrutinizing me pretty heavy
this last month."

"
Why?" She managed to ask the word, but
couldn't summon the energy to care.

"Politics. It's never-ending. They want to see
some clearances. I've been accused of sitting on a case. Here were my
choices." He pulled out a heavy three-ring binder and flipped it
open. "Solve it or pass it on. But before I passed it on, I
needed to write a thirty-day report on what I'd discovered."

"
And what had you discovered?"

Rico lined up three photographs side by side. They
were mug shots of Jane and Thor, and another picture of Sleaze John.
The photograph of Sleaze was one she recognized from Asia's
collection.

"
You took this from my house?"

"I found a witness who put them all at the
scene. She said there was a driver. I knew it had to be you. I'm
recusing myself from the case and I'm marrying Kathy. Neither thing
is absolutely perfect, but our options are what they are. You've done
the right thing coming forward. And when this is over, you still have
your life to live. We're all going to have to live with our choices,
our past deeds."

"
That isn't exactly a news flash."

"
What are we going to do with you now?"

"
What makes you think you're involved with that
decision?"

"
Cyrill McCarthy. Witnesses against him have a
habit of getting lost."

"He won't come after me. I've got friends in
high places. Thor only goes after the ones who don't have a chance."

"
You want me to drive you home?"

"
I want you to leave me alone. I want to never
have to see you again. I wish I had never met you."

"I don't."

"Don't you have a rosary to go say or
something?"

He left. Munch buried her face in her hands, wishing
she could cry. Time passed. She stared at the wall,  too busy
with her own thoughts to need a magazine or a television or another
person's company There was a small knock at the door and then it
opened.

"
You ready?" St. John asked.

"Any word?"

"Not yet. We're broadcasting a bulletin on the
eleven o'clock news and his picture will run in tomorrow's paper.
We'll get him."

She almost felt sorry for Thor, then caught herself.
He didn't deserve her sympathy What a chump she was. No wonder Rico
didn't love her.

"Say something," St. John said.

"
Like what?"

"I don't know. Call me an idiot."