Superbia 3 (19 page)

He watched her walk away, heading for the exit and going through the doors without
looking back.  Cory was munching the top of her ice cream cone and Devon was staring down into the last remaining inches of her smoothie.  Frank leaned down and kissed both girls on top of the head.  Devon kept her head low, keeping her eyes pointed a little too intently at the chunks of fruit in her cup.  "Did you want to go talk to that woman for a while?  I'll sit here and watch Cory," Devon said. 

"No.  There's no need for that," he said. 

"She looked like a princess," Cory said. 

"
No way," Frank said.  "Anyone who knows anything about princesses knows there are only two people pretty enough to be called princesses in this whole place, and I'm sitting with both of them right now."

Cory beamed and Devon said, "Dad," in an exasperated way that was betrayed by her sideways
, bashful grin. 

Frank held up his finger and said, "Give me one second," as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.  He unlocked it and scrolled through his address book until he found Ophelia's entry.  It had her email, her phone number, her birthday, her shoe size, and even,
after a particularly wild night of recklessness, her ring size.  Frank paused for a moment an
d
studied the picture that appeared next to her name.  She was lying on her bed naked, covering her breasts with one hand and staring up at the camera, her eyes as transfixing to him as they'd been that night.  He scrolled over to options and deleted Ophelia from his phone, then stuffed the phone in his pocket and said, "Now I'm ready."

Reynaldo Francisco parked his police car in the station lot and told dispatch he was logging off for the day.  He took his clipboard from the passenger seat and opened his on-board computer to read the newest email from Deputy Superintendent Tovarich.  It was the one with the subject heading:
IMPORTANT!!!!!!

Attention ALL Officers

Effective immediately, ALL OFFICERS are to do the following without exception upon completion of your shift:

All Officers SHALL write down their vehicle's mileage and how many miles driven that day

All Officers SHALL tally how many tickets they wrote that day (Warnings DO NOT COUNT)

All Officers SHALL tally how many calls for service they had that day

All Officers SHALL tally how many arrests they had that day

All Officers SHALL inventory their gear and assure it is in proper working condition

All Officers SHALL check their patrol vehicle to ensure it is fully fueled and contains all liquids including coolant, oil, transmission fluids, etc.

If you have ANY questions, comments
, or concerns you are to direct them to MY office.  This does not mean discuss it with anyone else BUT me. 

Failure to comply with ANY of the above shall result in future discipline.

Deputy Superintendent W. Tovarich II

The words "All Officers SHALL" rang in Reynaldo's head like a tone poem as he went down the list with his finger and scribbled down the correct items.  Onc
e he finished going through that email, he opened up the next five in succession, reading them in the order they were delivered that week. 

Monday: New Rules Regarding Saluting

Inferior Officers SHALL salute their superiors once per day upon first greeting, in or out of uniform, whether or not they are working, to include any rank greater than Officer such as Corporal, Deputy Superintendent or Chief.

Further, upon the entrance of any superior officer into the room, all inferior officers are required to stand until told to rest.

Tuesday: Clarification of New Rules Regarding Saluting

To clarify, all inferior officers SHALL salute and rise for their superior officers.  Members of the superior rank are exempt from this rule. 

Wednesday: Discussion of Police Department Matters FORBIDDEN

Effective immediately, all officers SHALL cease discussion of any and all internal matters
(including policy changes) regarding this police department with ANY outside source.  This includes any and all friends, family members, township employees, and township supervisors. 

To ensure compliance with this rule, members of the police department are ORDERED AND DIRECTED to report any fellow member who may be in violation.

Thursday: Clarification of Discussion of Police Departmental Matters

Yesterday's rule applies to all personnel who have not been otherwise advised by the Chief of Police, W. Tovari
ch I.

As he read through the emails, his on-board computer dinged with an incoming message from the Deputy Superintendent.  The subject heading read: Posting of Items in the Station

To All Officers:

Effective immediately, the posting of any items, flyers, posters, pictures, or other things, on any surface of the police department is hereby forbidden without prior permission from the Chief of Police.  This includes desks, walls, doors, lockers, etc. 

You have until tomorrow at noon to remove any personal items you wish to keep.  After that time, they will be disposed of.

The police department is a professional
environment and must be maintained as such at all times.  It is not your "home" and does not belong to you, so do not treat it as such.

If you have ANY questions, comments or concerns you are to direct them to MY office.  This does not mean discuss it with anyone else BUT me. 

Failure to comply with ANY of the above shall result in future discipline.

Deputy Superintendent W. Tovarich II

He slammed the lid of his computer down and jumped out of the seat, hammering the code into the police station door to see several officers in the station silently loading pictures of their wives and drawings from their children into boxes.  "This is absolute bullshit!" Reynaldo called out.  Several heads turned to look at him, all except Officer Brian Boxer, who was dutifully wrapping newspaper around a framed picture of his dead dog, Bullhorn. 

"How can you let this happen?" Reynaldo shouted at Boxer.

"What can the PBA do?" Boxer shrugged. 

"I don't know, that's why I pay dues to the PBA so it is run by elected officials who can answer that question!"   

"Look," Boxer hissed, "keep it down.  Just go with the program and do your work and everything will be fine.  This is just growing pains."

Reynaldo grabbed a handmade card sent to him by a little boy thanking him for saving his mother.  It showed a crayon drawing of a police officer and the little boy holding hands.  "How is this bad?" Reynaldo cried out.  "How is this not professional to any fucking person who walks into this accursed place!"

Boxer suddenly looked up as the figures of the Deputy Superintendent and Corporal Donoschik filled the doorway of the interview room, staring at all of them.  "Here," Reynaldo said, waving the little boy's card as he headed to the document shredder.  "Is this what you want?  Fine.  I shred the fucking thing so nobody has to be offended by some little kid's appreciation." 

Both men
glowered at Reynaldo, who balled his fists and said, "What?  You want to say something?  Go ahead!"

Corporal Donoschik hooked his thumbs in his glossy leather gunbelt and said, "I believe you
r first mistake was forgetting to salute your superior officers." 

Reynaldo turned on his heels and said, "Suspend me.  I could use the free day off."  He pointed at the other officers standing around watching and said, "All of you are damned cowards.  I'm going home."

Twenty minutes later, Reynaldo was sitting in a bar drinking a tall, cold glass of beer when his phone rang.  It was Frank. 
"I heard you let off some steam,"
Frank said.

"I couldn't help it."

"It happens.  They'll get over it."

"Who told you?"

"Boxer.  He asked me to check on you."

"Because he's too afraid to do it himself."

"Because he thought I'd have a better chance of getting through to you."

"I'm fine."

"Oh yeah?"
Frank said, sounding disappointed.

Reynaldo picked up his glass and took another long sip.  "Absolutely perfect."

"That's a shame.  I was hoping you were angry enough to get in some trouble with me about the Fred Phelps case."

Reynaldo set his glass down immediately and said, "What time and where?"

They met the next morning at Frank's house at 0800 hours.  Reynaldo showed Frank the file as he got into his car and said, "I brought everything.  Now where are we going?"

"Immigrations," Frank said. 

Reynaldo rolled his eyes, "Very funny.  I'm in no mood for jokes, okay?  You can bust my balls later."

"Who's
busting balls?" Frank said.  "I'm dead serious.  We're going to Immigration.  When Immigration and Customs combined, they absorbed all international child pornography investigations.  I've got a friend down there who can help us."

"Oh.  Well in that case, let's go."

Frank looked at him blankly, "Why did you think I was busting your balls?"

"Because that's what you do."

"But why would I be…Oh…you mean
because you're Mexican
," he said with a light smile. 

"
Si, senor
," Reynaldo drawled.

"See, I didn't even think of that.  My mind doesn't work that way, Reynaldo. 
I've evolved past such things now."

Reynaldo laughed and tapped the file on his lap nervously, "My God, it feels good to be doing police work again!"

Frank looked sideways at the younger man and said, "Speak for yourself, buddy."

Forty-five minutes later they arrived in Center City.  Frank sprang the twenty bucks it cost to park in a garage because he didn't feel like driving around in circles until a spot opened up on the street.  Parallel parking on the narrow city streets was a bitch anyway and he wasn't in the mood to waste any more time. 

The eager look on Reynaldo's face was wearing on Frank.  The badge pinned inside his wallet felt heavy and uncomfortable.  After so many years of The Job, he found that it was easier to put down than he'd thought.  And once put down, he was loathe to pick it up, or to pretend to be interested, and the sooner they'd passed the case off to ICE the better. 

They headed for an office building in the middle of the block, its glass front marked in drab yellow letters that read Department of Homeland Security.  Frank dropped his badge and keys and pocket
knife in the security officer's bucket and passed through the metal detector without making a sound.  Reynaldo held up his badge and pulled open his shirt to show the guards his gun.  They waved him through and ignored the alarm when it blared.  "You aren't armed?" Reynaldo said as they waited for the elevator. 

Frank shook his head, "I never carry off duty."

"Why?  That's not responsible.  What if something happens and you need to take action?"

"I'll call 911 and be a good witness."

"What if someone is in serious danger?"

Frank shrugged, "Then I guess I'll have to do what I have to do."

The elevator dinged and they got on.  "Not if the bad guy has a gun, you won't."

"When I was a kid, my old man carried everywhere he went, so he was always in cop-mode.  We'd be driving down the street and somebody would cut him off and he'd follow that person just to scream at them.  I'd be with him in the car and he'd be rolling down his window telling them what a stupid piece of shit they were.  He'd always say, 'Do you know who the fuck I am?' Always the tough guy.  One time we went to the movies and these kids were standing outside the theater talking.  My old man heard them using the F-word and came unglued on them, got all in their faces, telling them what was what.  I went to school with every single one of them.  The next day, I got jumped in the bathroom
."

"That sucks."

Frank nodded, "I was standing at the urinal, and this kid came up behind me and kicked me in the back.  I was still pissing when they took turns hitting me in the back of the head, trying to get my zipper up and defend myself.  It didn't work.  To this day, I'm pee shy.  Can't go if someone else is around me or talking too loudly.  Sounds stupid, right?"

"No," Reynaldo said. "It doesn't.  So you don't carry a gun because you hate your father?"

Frank curled up his face at Reynaldo's words and said, "What?  No, I don't hate him."

"You hate cops."

"Most of them, yeah," Frank said.

"And yet you became one?"

"I became one because I thought I could do a better job of it.  Turns out it's a lot more complicated than that."

The elevator opened on the sixth floor and Frank gave his name at the front desk and asked for Amelia Erndt.  The secretary picked up her phone and said Frank's name, then hung up and said, "She'll be
right out." 

"Frank O'Ryan!" a woman's voice boomed from down the hall.  Amelia stormed down the hall toward them, her short, squat frame hurtling forward atop six inch heels.  She grabbed him in a wide hug, crushing him against her pendulous bosom and said, "You son of a bitch.  What is this bullshit I hear about you trying to leave the police department?"

"It's true, I'm afraid," he said. 

"Did you get another job?"

"I decided I'm going to be independently wealthy.  Unfortunately, it's off to kind of a slow start."

Amelia laughed and thrust her hand at Reynaldo to get his name, squeezing his hand like a man would.  "Come back to my office, you two."  They followed her down the hall to her small, cramped office.  It was stacked chest high with boxes for various cases and her desk was wedged in between two different filing cabinets.  "Excuse the mess, guys.  I just got back from Romania on a job.  We helped shut down a major
human trafficking organization.  Tons of suspects, tons of victims." 

"Romania?" Frank said.  "Impressive."

"It was Turkey a month before that, and North Africa before that.  You should see my passport," she said.  "It's a mess."

Frank waved his hand for Reynaldo to open the Phelps file and start spreading it out on Amelia's desk.  "Hopefully this one will be easier for you.  We got information that this guy is manufacturing kiddie porn at a store in town.  Light stuff, mainly, from what we can tell.  Kids getting changed in dressing rooms, that sort of thing.  Our source told us that he's also trading in harder files, though."