The exchange gave Big Jim time to think. “I didn’t recognize him before, during, or after the arrest,” he stated firmly. “It is merely a coincidence. I don’t even like basketball and can produce numerous witnesses, including several men in my precinct, who will testify to that fact.”
The interview continued for three more hours, Tony doing his best to prepare Marwick for what he could expect once Adam got him on the stand. During the entire ebb and flow, Tony realized the man across the table from him was a well-practiced liar, and he was on the verge of erupting in anger at any moment.
Dishonesty wasn’t a rare skill among law enforcement ranks. Most experienced cops developed the ability to maneuver the minefield of cross-examination with minor inaccuracies. They learned to fight off conniving, scumbag lawyers who were skilled at spinning the truth to free lawbreakers. It was a tool, in their minds, to keep criminals off the street and away from polite society.
As the afternoon dragged on, Tony began to sense that Officer Marwick’s abilities exceeded far beyond justifiable white lies that had been conjured to thwart legal loopholes or crafty defense tactics. The assistant DA became convinced that Big Jim’s creativity was fueled by some lopsided view of how the citizenry should be policed. The officer was clearly angry at being challenged at all, projecting an air of disdain that his word was being questioned.
He was a playground bully
, Tony finally decided.
He stumbled into being a cop, and for the first time in his life, the undying need to control others was sanctioned and respected.
It was a common diagnosis, an occasional scoundrel in uniform relishing the gratification of being able to impose his will on the misbehaving examples of his fellow man.
A perfect job for the oppressor,
the ADA mused
.
Driving back from the police station, Tony dialed his boss’s cell. “He’s a powder keg,” he informed Karen bluntly. “If Adam gets a sense of that on cross examination, he’ll press Officer Marwick, and the guy will blow sky high. And I don’t have to remind you that any under-oath rant this guy spouts will result in exponentially greater sums being paid by the city if they win the civil suit.”
“I understand,” the DA responded. “Have they filed the formal complaint against the officer?”
“Yes, they did so this morning.”
The pause that followed was so long that Tony had to check to make sure the call hadn’t been dropped. His boss’s voice finally came back, “Let’s put a little reverse pressure on the kid. I have two specific detectives from Internal Affairs in mind. I’ll call the chief and recommend that they’re assigned to the investigation into the Chases’ citizen complaint. We’ll see how the other side holds up to a little heat.”
After disconnecting, Tony continued to maneuver through the congested streets of downtown Houston. He couldn’t help but feel the entire episode was spiraling out of control. “Where is this all going?” he whispered to the empty car. “How far are we going to take this?”
He knew enough of Karen to answer his own questions. “To the wall,” he whispered. “Come hell or high water, she won’t give in. That’s why she’s the DA.”
Chip delivered Manny at the promised time, Gabe relieved that his son’s greatest wish was going to go off without a hitch.
As the young girl rushed inside, the two fathers convened on the front stoop. Each had a dozen questions for the other.
“How’s Jacob holding up?” Chip began, his concern genuine.
“I’m worried,” came the honest reply. “His mother and I were so focused on his physical wellbeing; we didn’t pay any attention to the mental trauma. He’s not in a good place.”
Chip signaled his understanding, his eyes betraying his dejected mood. “Manny hasn’t been sleeping since this all went down, and quite frankly, neither have I. Like a needle stuck on a record player, I keep rerunning the events of that night in my mind, wishing I’d done things differently. Sometimes, I’d give anything to have it to do over; other times I tell myself I never want to experience anything like that again.”
“I hear you,” Gabe replied, “In a way, I’m glad I wasn’t there. Who knows what I might have done to protect my child? As bad as things are right now, they certainly could have been worse.”
“What I experienced was nothing compared to what Jacob endured,” Chip added. “I tussled with that big cop for less than three seconds. Jacob was on the receiving end of their bullshit for several minutes. I can’t imagine what is going through his mind.”
“Sandy and I are thinking about trying to get him some professional help. He keeps claiming that he’s just fine, but we know better. He has wanted to see Manny more than anything. Thanks for bringing her over.”
Chip waved off the gratitude. “I’m sure it will do both of them some good. There is one thing I think you need to keep in mind. For me, at least, the lingering mental anguish doesn’t have anything to do with the physical nature of the encounter. While getting pushed around sucked, that’s not what has been troubling me – like most guys, I’ve been in a fight before. What is eating my insides is the betrayal. I’ve always taught my kids to go to a cop if they get lost. Find a policeman – they’re there to help. You’ll be safe with a cop. Now, all of that trust seems misplaced. All those years of believing what it says on the side of their vehicles… to serve and protect… now I feel like such a fool for believing that.”
Gabe frowned, his thoughts having traveled the same road so many times in the last few days. “Do you really believe this isn’t an isolated incident? You sound convinced that there is a systemic problem with law enforcement.”
“Damned right I am. Since this all went down, I’ve been watching internet videos, perusing old newspaper reports, and generally paying more attention. So has Manny. I’ve read numerous studies, many by the government, others by law professors who monitor this sort of thing. After the events of September 11, law enforcement was granted a new status by the general public. Edicts like the Patriot Act served to embolden them even further. The American citizens let it slide, more worried about terrorist attacks than minor police overreach or any loss of civil liberty. Now, it’s gotten out of hand, and we’re all going to have hell to pay getting the genie back in the bottle.”
Shuffling his feet, Gabe wasn’t ready to agree wholeheartedly. “I still think the vast majority of cops are good men and women. I think there are a few bad eggs… and probably always have been. I’ve scrutinized the same videos as you, but I’m not ready to break out the torches and pitchforks just yet.”
Chip reached to grasp Gabe’s shoulder, squeezing gently to make sure his friend knew he was serious. “You might be right, but promise me one thing. Make sure that son-of-a-bitch that put your son in the hospital is taken off the streets. If we don’t make the bad apples pay, the rot will spread through the entire barrel, and then we’ll have no choice but revolution.”
Gabe’s smile was anything but a positive reaction. “Don’t worry about that, my friend. Hell’s fury has nothing on what’s simmering inside my soul. My last dime and breath will be spent bringing those bastards to justice.”
After a friendly exchange with Sandy, Manny found Jacob sitting up in his bed, staring blankly out the window.
“Some guys will do anything to get out of school,” she greeted, making her smile as bright and wide as she could manage.
Jacob’s face responded in kind, grinning widely and holding up his arms in an open invitation for a hug. The two teenagers embraced warmly, holding each other tight.
Manny sensed her boyfriend’s tears a moment later, an initial sniffle soon followed by quick, rolling sobs that shook his entire body. She held on, some basic instinct telling her that keeping him close was the best comfort she could provide.
His outburst pushed her over the edge as well, overwhelming her resolve to be cheerful and upbeat during the reunion. She joined him, letting go of everything she’d kept bottled up, expelling it on his shoulder.
Eventually their storm of weeping subsided, the convulsions of emotion gradually dissipating. Both of their shirts were soaked through with hot tears; neither seemed to notice or care.
“I’m such a wimp,” Jacob finally managed to croak. “I’m supposed to be so brave and resilient. I’m sorry about my outburst. I don’t think I’ve cried so much since I was a little boy.”
She waved him off, “Anybody would cry given what you’ve been through. It would be silly not to. Soldiers cry all the time, and nobody thinks they’re wimpy…. You have no reason to be ashamed.”
Her words drew a smile that did more to communicate the trust between them than anything he might have said aloud. “Thanks,” he simply responded in kind.
They held hands, the platonic gesture coming naturally for two people who sincerely cared about each other. It was shelter for Jacob, therapy for Manny. Both seemed content to sit and do only that.
Neither knew how long it lasted, time not a factor in their minds. Jacob was content with merely sitting and peering at his girl, Manny satisfied with returning his gaze.
“How are things at school?” he finally ventured.
“Same old, same old. Everybody has been asking about you, wondering how you’re doing and how bad you were hurt. You have a lot of friends, Jacob. Don’t hesitate to be with them. The sooner you get back to your normal life, the better.”
His reaction wasn’t what Manny expected, a pained expression etching his face. He pointed toward the pair of crutches leaning in the corner and spoke with a harsh, hateful tone. “What life? That’s my life now, standing over there in the corner. I can’t play ball, I can’t even walk and carry my own books at the same time. I’m never going back… I can’t… I couldn’t look anybody in the face.”
The tears returned, but this time they were angry. “Why has everything changed, Manny? I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t hurt anybody, but I’m the brokenhearted one now. I didn’t ruin anybody’s life; yet mine has been trashed. Why? I just want God… or you… or my parents to explain why.”
His pain was crushing, the deep questions of essential existence more than what the teenage girl could handle. Lacking any other viable response, she again fell back on her instincts and pulled him close in an embrace. It was another five minutes before they cried themselves out for the second time.
When they made eye contact again, Manny had regrouped, all of her thoughts from the past few days coming clear. “You have to get back on the horse, Jacob,” she said sweetly, but firmly. “You are a winner, and winners don’t let setbacks like this keep them down for long. In ten years, when we’re married and having children of our own, we’ll look back and draw strength from this. I know you. I know me. I know we both will.”
He nodded, but something in his eyes told Manny he was still unsure.
She kept it up, trying to pace the conversation so as not to chase him back into the shadows of his memories. She wanted his thoughts moving forward and into the future. She chatted about tests and classes and who was dating whom these days. She brought him up to speed on the latest song just released by their favorite band.
Slowly he came out of the shell, responding to her comments and even once cracking a joke. That one small event proved uplifting to the uncertain, young girl. It was the only sign she’d seen that the Jacob from before still resided inside the body perched next to her on the bed.
Sandy announced her presence in the threshold by clearing her throat, happy to see both teenagers respecting the open door policy whenever they were together.