Enemy in Blue (29 page)

“
You do what I say, or you lose your job. Got it?”

Martinez stepped out of the shadows. “Back away from her.” The producer spun on one foot, startled by the voice.

“
Just who the hell are you?”

Martinez held up his badge. “Back away.” Sandra looked warmly at Martinez and then went back to reading her notes. The man descended back into darkness and reappeared close to Martinez.

“
We didn't hire any security. What're you doing here?”

“
Watching.”

“
This is a closed set.”

“
Not for me. This is all part of an ongoing investigation.”

The man screamed out to Sandra, “Is
he
why you won't say anything about the tape right now? I'll kick his ass out, Sandy!”

“
Five...four...three...” The two men glared at each other.

“
Sergeant Shaver is currently being held at the county jail where he will remain until his preliminary hearing. If you or anyone you know has information pertinent to this matter, call Viewer Report Line Nine.” She held her gaze until given the signal that the broadcast had stopped. The producer scrambled back to the news desk.

“
You ever do that again, and you'll lose this job! You get me?!”

“
Fire me and you'll lose the best story of the year. Guess where that'll land you?”

Martinez walked up and stood in the middle of the two. “Let's grab some lunch, Sandra.”

“
I'm not done here,” Sandra said menacingly.

“
Probably best to cool down. Come on,” Martinez said as he gently tugged on her elbow. This time she acquiesced and followed him out of the studio. They walked in silence as Sandra regained her composure.

“
That McMahon is a real jerk. I told him I wasn't going to bring up the video yet.”

“
Why not?”

“
Cruz warned me not to. He said it could affect the case against Shaver.”

“
You did what's right then. We'll get this video out in time—all of us have a reason to make sure that happens.”

“
It's not just the video though. This job leaves me feeling filthy. All that producer and the news director care about is making money. The more depraved the story the better. Ten seconds, fifteen seconds, whatever sells the most. People like Mr. Rodriguez get lost in the shuffle.”

“
Maybe it's not all about the producer.”

“
What do you mean?” Sandra asked.

Noting exasperation in her voice, Martinez went on to explain, “They'd put puppy dogs and angels on the tube if that sold advertising space. Truth is, they're just tools. You need to be mad at the public. We—and I'll throw both of us in there—we die for quicker, more violent and more shocking news.”

“
I guess,” Sandra said after a pause. “I don't like the perspective that puts my job in.”

Martinez shrugged his shoulders and opened the door to the street for her. “You heard from Cruz today?”

“
I just saw him a little while ago.”

“
He hasn't answered any of my calls today.”

“
Maybe he's in court?”

“
Could be.”

“
What were you calling him about?”

“
I got a call...from an ex-cop. Said he wanted to tell me some things about Shaver that only he knew about.”

“
Gets better every day, doesn't it?”

“
It's hard to imagine that a cop like him existed, doing damage to the world for so long. As a cop, you hear about some toeing of the line. You just don't imagine anything on this level.”

“
Why'd you come see me?”

“
Just found myself in the neighborhood,” Martinez answered. “You want to go meet this guy with me?”

“
Sure, where at?”

“
Joe's Diner. Just a few blocks from here. We can walk.”

They came around the corner and Joe's burst into sight. The one o'clock sun reflected off the chrome exterior. The two saw commotion around the diner as they neared. Four cop cars were parked at angles in front of it. People lined up around the makeshift perimeter set up by the cars. A cop strung a roll of yellow crime scene tape along the sidewalk. Martinez pushed through the crowd with Sandra tucked in behind him.

“
Hey—hey, where do you think you're going?” a cop said to Martinez. Martinez took his badge out.

“
You're in plain clothes. What business you got here?”

“
What happened inside?”

“
Like I said,” the cop said while leaning in towards Martinez, “What...business...you...got...here?”

Then it dawned on Martinez that it could be a hit. “Is there a dead cop in there?” The cop didn't respond. Martinez shook his head, “Fuck! Let me in!” He pushed past the cop who stiffened and looked the other way.

“
Hold, hold, hold on there, sweetie. You ain't goin' in there with him.” Sandra rested on his outstretched arm. She turned back into the swelling mass of people.

“
They tell you what happened?” When she didn't respond, the person asked again, “I said, did they tell you what happened?”

Sandra looked up and saw a well-dressed business man standing in front of her. “No, they didn't tell me anything.” The people crammed around her were itching, like fiends, for a body to be wheeled by them or some loud noise to make them jump. Anything to help them briefly forget the linearity of their lives.

A tap on Sandra's shoulder made her jump. It was Martinez. “Let's go.”

“
Hey, did they tell
you
what happened?” They ignored the man and walked away. When they were away from the crowd, Sandra stopped and asked, “Was it him?”

“
Yes.”

“
My God. I thought we hit the bottom of the rabbit hole.”

“
Apparently not,” Martinez said as he handed her a file.

“
What's this?”

“
Take a look inside.” She did, and as she turned the pages inside Martinez could see the terror grow on her face.

“
Who are these people Martinez?”

“
I don't know. That's the part he was gonna fill in.”

“
They're all brown, or black. Martinez, who did this?”

“
My guess? Shaver.”

* * * *

Cruz bounced around in the back of the Town Car as it sped down an unpaved road. The beast to his left, the one who had
gently
persuaded him to get into the car, kept looking over and smiling politely. A polite but glaringly false smile.

“
I'm surprised you're letting me see where we're going.”

“
This is not a full-fledged kidnapping. You're just gonna meet someone.”

“
He, or she...it...could have just called me.”

Cruz turned his head and looked out the window. Mansions set back from the road loomed behind ancient-looking trees. The car moved to the left to accommodate a horseback rider and then began to slow. They pulled into a driveway that was also the end of the road. The driver typed in a number on the gate. Horse stalls and a barn appeared to the right as they made their way down the driveway. The car edged around a bend and the house started to take shape from behind a lazily sloping hill. It was a magnificently styled Tudor, bordered by manicured hedges and bushes. The driveway ended in a circle centered with a fountain.

The man to Cruz's left got out of the car and went around to open his door. Cruz stepped out and stretched.

“
Home sweet home, huh?” The man smiled his polite smile again and took a position behind Cruz. He assumed this meant move, so he headed toward the two huge front doors. They lurched open before he could knock.

“
Master Cruz, I presume?”

“
I'm no master. Just Cruz.”

“
This way then, please,” the butler said as he pointed to a waiting room. Cruz entered the room and stood by a window.

“
Won't you sit down...Cruz?”

“
I'm fine standing.” In reality, he felt altogether too out of place to sit down. The chairs in the room looked like they were out of a seventeenth- century French palace. A far cry from the yeoman-like furniture he was used to.

“
As you wish. Mr. Sphinx will be down momentarily.”

Mr. Sphinx? Cruz recognized the name. There was a locally famous attorney named Sphinx, but this couldn't be him. An attorney kidnapping another attorney? That was so far removed from the bounds of ethics.

“
Mr. Marquez!” a voice boomed from behind him. “What a pleasure to meet you!”

Cruz turned around to meet the voice. “Holy shit! It
is
you! Are you nuts? Do you realize I'm going to have you disbarred for this crap!”

“
For what? For sending a Town Car to pick you up for a meeting at my house?”

“
What?! That guy...” Cruz said as he searched for the man who sat next to him in the car, “...I don't know where he went, but that guy, the big one, told me he would 'bury me in my own shit' if I didn't come. Some fucking invitation.”

“
My goodness, he said
that
to you?”

“
Yeah!”

“
Tomas!! Tomas, come here!”

“
See, that's the one I was talking about!” Cruz said when Tomas came into the waiting room.

“
Tomas, you're fired. Please pack your belongings and leave.”

“
But, what the hell? You told me...”

“
Tomas!
” Tomas shot Cruz a look of disdain and then left the room. “I apologize, Mr. Marquez, I truly do. Please, won't you sit?” Sphinx said while gesturing to one of the many chairs in the room. Cruz cautiously slid into one of them.

“
What the hell are you doing with this kind of a setup anyways? Aren't you a criminal defense attorney?”

“
Why would that preclude this decor?”

“
Well, I just assume you'd have something a bit more down to earth. Enough of the small talk though. Why'd you kidnap me?”

“
A meeting, Cruz, simply a meeting.”

“
Forget that. Next time you call.”

“
The gravity of the situation called for a more immediate...”

“
Let me guess, you're representing Sergeant Shaver? Right?”

“
Why, yes.”

“
Hey, while we're at this, how about you kick this fake English accent you've got going. I don't know a ton about you, but I do know you aren't fucking royalty.”

Sphinx half-smiled, half-scowled. “All right...you want the down-to-earth talk?”

Cruz burst out laughing. “I knew it, I knew it man. You even talk that fake way in your commercials.” Cruz pushed enough buttons. Sphinx stood up. His three-piece, pinstripe suit fell neatly over his body. He must have been at least six-foot-five, Cruz guessed. He had a closely shaved hairdo and a menacing goatee. Cruz swallowed slowly. Sphinx came over to his chair and put both of his hands on the armrests.

“
Let's get real then, all right Cruz? Remember Tomas, who told you he'd bury you in your own shit? That'd just be the beginning. That was merciful. Don't think you can come into my fucking house and disrespect me.” Pause. “We clear?”

Cruz squeezed back into his chair. Seeing no other option, he responded, “Crystal.”

“
Good, now I've come to talk to you about Sergeant Shaver's case.”

“
But why me? I'm not the DA.”

“
Believe me, I'm talking to Mason too. I've reached out to you because of your personal involvement in this case and the connections you have in your community. Sergeant Shaver is interested in settling this case with as little fanfare as possible.”

“
Again, I have no control...”

“
Bullshit you don't. I know you and Mason have spoken regarding this case. Don't play me for a fool, and realize that I know everything you think I don't.” Sphinx went over to a small cocktail table in the corner of the room. “Scotch?”

“
No.” Sphinx finished pouring his own drink and then sat down across from Cruz. “If you know everything, then I don't need to tell you that Shaver's case is about much more than his murder of Livan Rodriguez. First, the community has been at a boiling point for a while now. Second, this isn't Shaver's only instance of unlawful use of force. You're mistaken if you think this case will go away easily.”

Sphinx shook his head and said, “The state's case against Sergeant Shaver is terrible. I am giving you and the state a chance to get out without embarrassing yourselves.”

“
Terrible? How's that?”

“
All of your witnesses are dead, how about that for starters?”

“
Dead because of Shaver and his hitmen! You think that's going to help him? Plus, Officer Martinez and Livan Rodriguez's daughter were there—they're both alive and more than willing to testify.”

“
You've been away for too long Cruz. His daughter conveniently relocated to Mexico.”

“
What?”

“
Everyone has a price Cruz.”

“
We'll bring her back here to testify in the trial.”