Detective Bobby Morgan's Case

"I didn't do anything man!"

Three squad cars pulled into the alley and screeched to a halt. "I need a first aid kit!" Bobby yelled. Two officers came forward and took the suspect, while a third rushed over with a first aid kit.

Bobby bent down in front of Case, who was holding her hand against her forehead, opened the kit and grabbed the largest gauze pads he could find. "Let me see," he said. She took her hand away and bright red blood streamed down her cheek. He pushed the hair from her face and held the bandage against the cut.

"I'm okay," she said.

"Bullshit, we're taking you to get checked out."

"It's a scratch," she said.

"Well your scratch might need stitches. I'm calling an ambulance."

"No, no ambulance, that's too much."

"Alright, I'll take you myself."

***

Lieutenant Wallace and Bobby stood in the exam room with Case while the doctor applied adhesive stitching to her cut.

"We're going to run a CT and an x-ray, just to be certain there's not internal cranial damage," the doctor said, taping a bandage in place, "I promise you're at the front of the line, we'll get you in and out as quick as we can. In the mean time, take this," she said handing her a small white cup and a second cup with water, "I suspect you're going to have a very bad headache. Don't worry, I'll get you a prescription."

Wallace sighed and shook his head, "we're glad you're alright Agent Davio. Can you tell me what happened when you caught up to the suspect?"

"He was ahead of me, ran into an alley. By the time I caught up to him he had the gun drawn, he fired; I dropped to sweep his feet. He went down, the gun fell out of his hand, and he elbowed me. It happened pretty quickly."

"Where was your partner?" Wallace asked.

"He was right behind me."

"That's not true," Bobby said as Lieutenant Wallace turned to look at him. "She was well ahead of me. When I got into the alley she had the suspect subdued."

"How did you manage that?" Wallace said, turning back to Case.

"With respect sir, I stomped on his testicles and then put him in a hold."

Wallace smiled, "I see. Are things working out with you and Detective Morgan?"

"I disagree that Detective Morgan was more than 20 feet behind me during the pursuit. As soon as I went down, my partner was there to back me up."

"Good," Wallace said. 'Well I have some good news for the both of you. The two of you managed to find the needle in the haystack. The gun you retrieved from Mr. Rodriguez was previously confiscated by the Los Angeles Police Department."

The partners exchanged looks. "When can we question him?" Bobby asked.

***

The Doctor had been right; Case had a screaming headache by the time she and her partner left the ER and headed back to Watts to talk to Julio Rodriguez. She sat with her head against the seat and her eyes closed.

"You should have let me take the suspect," Bobby said.

She didn't bother to open her eyes, "why because I'm a girl?"

He sighed impatiently, "because you are of a smaller stature."

"Because I'm a girl," her tone matter of fact.

"I'm not saying you can't do the job."

"But you didn't want to be partnered with me because I'm a girl, right? Worried that I might be too concerned with breaking a nail, I might avoid actually doing my job because of it."

Bobby winced. "How did you know that?"

"I didn't...but I do now."

"Look," he said, "I'll admit that I am probably old fashioned with my thinking. Girls are not as physically strong as boys. Plus there's the whole protective factor."

"And what is that?"

"Men can tend to feel and act protective of their female partner."

"You never felt protective over a male partner?"

"It's not the same thing."

"No?"

"No."

"Well why not. He's a cop, I'm a cop, what's the difference?"

"You're a girl."

"I give up," she said.

"Women are distracting by nature."

"How do you figure that?"

"It's the ass, the breasts, poofy lips, hair that smells like some kinda berry. You walk by and men forget their names."

"Well then men should learn to control themselves and not look at women as pure sex objects, which is clearly what you're doing. I didn't realize you were such a sexist."

"I'm not sexist. I know you can do the job. I'm just saying that others around you might not be able to."

"Right, because the ways a bullet proof vest fits me is just so sexy!" she said in a dramatic whisper.

"Oh hush it. Then, if it's not feeling protective it's...You know...partners of the opposite sex fuck up and wind up in the sack together. After that, your judgment is completely shot."

"Are you saying you want to sleep with me Detective Morgan?"

"Of course not! I'm saying I've seen it happen, that's all. Besides, you're not my type."

"Why not?"

"Federal agents tend to repulse me." Case burst out laughing while Bobby smiled.

***

"Julio!" Bobby exclaimed as they entered the interrogation room. "Long time no see man, how are you? Are they treating you okay in here? Do you have everything you need? If you're feeling lucky, really luck Julio, we'll give you some KY and let you roll the dice and take your chances."

"Fuck you," Julio said.

"No, it's actually fuck you; you're the one going to prison."

"I already told you I don't want to talk to you."

"You don't? I don't remember you saying that, Agent Davio, do you remember Julio saying he didn't want to talk to us?"

"I sure don't."

"Fuck you punta I said I want a lawyer!"

"Are you sure about that?" Bobby said. "You stop talking to us now, and you're guaranteed to get the needle."

"What the fuck are you talking about man, you're trippin!"

"I know you didn't get an opportunity to talk with my partner before, after all you were too busy trying to shoot her in the face, but I really think you should listen to what she has to say. I want you to listen close, and if you need me to take notes for you, just let me know. Agent Davio?"

"Thank you, Detective," Case said, sitting across from the suspect. "Here's the situation Julio. First of all you have assault and domestic violence charges against you for choking your girlfriend Veronica. Then you have the assault of a police officer, compounded by the fact that I am a federal agent, which is further compounded by the fact you tried to shoot me in the head. Then we have the gun. Julio, the gun we took off of you today is linked to twelve murders."

"You're full of shit."

"Am I? Well, this is where we come to an interesting point, Julio. The gun was in your possession, so that makes it yours. That means that you, better than anyone, would know that it has been used in twelve murders. I wonder if you can get consecutive death sentences for that?"

"I already told you, I didn't kill nobody!"

"But it's your gun Julio."

"That shit ain't mine!"

"Oh?" Case said, sitting up, "it's not yours? Whose gun is it, Julio?"

"I can't tell you."

"Well, if you don't tell us, we have to go with the assumption that it's yours."

Julio was quiet while he searched for an answer. "The gun ain't mine. I ain't never killed nobody and you can't prove I did."

"Yes we can Julio, we can. See, funny thing about how small the world is, how we're all linked together in some way. We've already found out your connection."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"What's your girlfriend's name again, I forgot." Bobby said.

"Veronica."

"Veronica what?"

"Veronica Vasquez."

"That's it! Vasquez! Does she have a brother, Julio?"

"I didn't kill him!"

"Kill who?"

"Oscar, her brother! I didn't kill him!"

"That's not what the gun says."

"I wasn't even there, I swear to god, I wasn't there when it happened I was at home with my lady! Tyrone shot Oscar, not me! I swear to god!"

"Tyrone who?"

"The fuck if I know! Tyrone Anderson, I think. He did it, he had to!"

Case and Bobby exchanged a quick glance; Tyrone Anderson was one of the 12 dead on their list.

"Why?" she asked.

"I...I can't fucking tell you! If I tell you he'll kill me, he'll kill my family!"

"Who?" Case pressed, but it was too late, Julio clammed up. "Julio, if you don't talk to us, you're taking the wrap." He stared down at the table in front of him, crying...and saying nothing.

***

The next morning Case headed to the Vasquez home solo; Bobby would meet her there.

She sat in front of the house, thinking back to the alley...the crack of the gun firing, the bullet close enough to warm her head as it whizzed by... blood in her eyes, the taste of it on her tongue. She rubbed her head gingerly, then got out of the car.

"Agent Davio!" came a voice from across the street. Case squinted in the bright California sunshine; a young woman was headed right for her. "Agent Davio, I'm so glad to have finally caught up with you! My name is Laura Wells, from the LA Times? I understand the task force had made some headway in recent days and would like to get an idea of what that is."

"You'll have to go through downtown to get that information, sorry."

"Oh I've already done that. I'm interested in talking to you about your partner, Robert Morgan? I can only imagine how passionate he must be about protecting children from unnecessary gun violence."

"We're all passionate about it, that's why we do what we do, now if you'll excuse me..."

"But to lose his entire family the way that he did, I mean, your wife walks your daughter to school in the morning and in a matter of minutes they're both killed? It's been three years, I know, but how does he handle it from day to day?"

Case stopped walking and faced the reporter, stoic.

"I'm sure you two talk about what happened right, since you're partners? This new taskforce must be close to his heart."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Three years ago Detective Morgan's wife and daughter were killed in a random drive-by shooting outside her elementary school; seven were killed, fifteen injured. Most of the officers in the department responded, including his unit. His wife was dead when he arrived; his daughter died a short time later. I'm sorry, I was sure you'd have heard about this by now, given the nature of your assignment. Do you think his emotions negatively impact his ability to work in the field?"

"What? Of course not."

"Is that on the record?"

"No. Look, I am very busy, you need to go now."

Case looked up just as Bobby pulled in. He got out of his car and walked purposefully to Laura. "What are you doing here?"

"Detective Morgan, how good to see you. I was wondering if you're ready to go on record about this investigation and your personal ties to gun violence?"

As Bobby moved closer Case stepped between them, facing Laura. "Get out of here," she said, her tempter rising. She pointed to the car across the street, "go, right now!"

"This is a public sidewalk; I'm not breaking the law." Case was incensed and grabbed Laura by the front of her blouse.

"If you don't get the fuck out of here right now I am personally going to arrest you for interfering with a federal investigation, do you understand me?"

"The people have a right to know..."

"The people don't have a right to know shit about this man and his family! All they need to know is that we are doing our jobs, now so help me God if you utter one more fucking syllable out of your mouth, you're going to jail." Case let go of the shirt and pushed her back, pointing to the car again. Laura looked from Bobby to Case and then hurried back across the street, getting into her car.

Case looked at her partner, in shock. "Bobby..."

"Where's your cell phone?"

"What, it's in the car, why?"

"Wallace just called; he needs us back at the station ASAP."

"What's going on?"

"Julio Rodriguez wants to talk to us."

***

When Case and Bobby left the interrogation room for the second time in less than 24 hours, they could sense they were getting closer and the 19 member team huddled into the precinct conference room.

Bobby rapped his knuckles on he table. "Alright, team. As you know Agent Davio here apprehended Julio Rodriguez yesterday in the midst of a DV spat. Julio had a gun, which was traced back to this department. Julio's girlfriend is the sister of our vic Vasquez, so for the first time in two months we have a connection between two of our vics. In questioning Julio, we also find a connection between Vasquez and our vic Tyrone Anderson. According to Julio, Anderson is the one who shot Vasquez."

"Then who shot Anderson?"

"He doesn't know."

"So what's the common denominator?" Rich asked.

"According to Julio, both Williams and Vasquez ran small time dope and weed for a big time player. Everyone in the NGH Unit already knows him, but for our new friends from the ATF, meet Caesar Green, aka, the King," Bobby held up a large color photo before passing it off for everyone to look at. "This is one of the biggest dope runners LA has ever seen, and his network is tangled, thick and complicated. This man has been up for murder at least three times, and gotten off, not to mention possession with intent to sell. At least 75 percent of the dope dealers you'll find in South Central work for this man right here, and we've tried everything to catch him; tailing, surveillance, bugs, UC's, you name it. But the man is unfortunately smart; we've come close, but close isn't close enough."

"So what do we have now, anything?"

"One of our vics, Raymond Martin, aka lil Ray-Ray found out that Caesar had a second, unknown operation, running guns over the border into Mexico, and that the cash from these deals was being held in a self-storage facility. Ray-Ray, being the brilliant criminal mind that he was, decided to bring a few of the fellas in on his plan to rob Caesar of the cash, which was rumored to be at least two million dollars."

"Caesar was keeping two million dollars cash in a self-storage?" Louis said.

"That was the word circulating through the crew. Ray-Ray tried to recruit a team to carry out the theft and of course, someone ratted him out to Caesar. That's when the bodies started piling up. Anyone in the crew who hung with Ray-Ray met an untimely death via two to the back of the head. According to Julio, Caesar made sure the hits were spaced out, in different parts of the city, so that there wouldn't be an immediate connection."

"Does he know where the guns came from?" Louis asked.

"They came from LAPD, but Julio has never seen a cop at the Lab."

"I'm sorry, what's the Lab?" Case asked.

"The Lab is a large apartment complex in Inglewood. Just about everyone who lives there works for the King. Either that or they do what he wants based purely off of intimidation and fear. Getting in untraced is virtually impossible and exactly the reason why we tend to stay away."

Lieutenant Wallace came into the conference room, moving to the front of the table. "We may have stayed away before, but not now. We have a warrant to go in and get the King."

The room was quiet. "Lieutenant, obviously we want to take this guy down, but what about the cop?" Case asked.

"We have a suspect," Wallace said. "Jeremy Stevens, twenty years in the department."

"I thought we checked him already?" One of the ATF agents asked.

"We did, and we found nothing. One of his responsibilities is to make sure that all confiscated weapons are destroyed at the end of each quarter. His records were absolutely infallible. After looking at him we were convinced the guns were stolen before moving to the warehouse."

"What's changed?"

"His brother," Wallace said. "Jeffrey Stevens is in charge of special ops. They run training operations in conjunction with Mexico's border patrol. Both brothers have houses in Mexico. We also ran the GPS on his patrol car. Now, it never goes near the Lab, but it's been all over la Bodega."

"What's la Bodega?"

"It's a restaurant of sorts, in Inglewood."

"Right, and la Bodega is owned by a woman named Martina Espinoza. Martina has a brother named Caesar Green."

***

Ten unmarked police cars pulled onto a side street two blocks from the Lab and the group made the rest of the trip on foot. They approached the building from behind, surrounding it. Case and Bobby crouched at the back entrance and waited.

"It doesn't even look inhabitable," she whispered.

"You should see the inside. The owner abandoned this place a long time ago, but the King keeps the lights on, and collects the rent."

"How thoughtful."

"He keeps the prices low, so those who are struggling the most will move in and have to bend to his will. We won't be able to tell who's who once we get in there; everyone is a part of his crew."

"Teams move in," came a quiet voice through their earpieces.

They pushed the door open and quietly, slowly stepped into the darkened building with six other officers, and immediately branched out, two by two.

"Have you been in here before?" Case whispered.

Bobby nodded and she moved behind him, ready to follow his lead. The building was unusually quiet, and there was no one in sight. They stepped into the massive lobby, looking at the floors above; no signs of people anywhere. As they crept along the perimeter of the room, all hell broke loose. Bullets rained down like a hail storm, ricocheting off the ground around them. Case instinctively jumped back into the shadows and looked for her partner. He was still exposed, lying on the ground.

"Bobby!" she screamed in horror, grabbing her radio from her vest. "Officer down, officer down, officer down on the first floor, officer needs assistance, first floor!" She could hear voices yelling from all sides, and the gunfire increased three-fold; Bobby was at the center of it. Case watched in horror as a bullet hit his thigh. She knew that in a matter of seconds he would be dead, and if she moved from where she was, she would die too. She ran to her partner and grabbed his vest with one hand and kept going. They made it about ten feet before a bullet ripped through her shoulder and she fell face first, still gripping Bobby's vest. Case pulled herself up and continued running.

She dragged him back through the building and out the back door, then squatted over him, her glock nine trained on the door from which they'd come. She grabbed her radio again. "Officer down, officer down, we're at the rear of the Lab, I repeat, Officer down, we are at the back of the building, fucking hurry up!" She dropped the radio and looked at Bobby, his eyes were closed. She reached one hand down and felt his neck; he had a pulse. Sirens got louder and louder as dozens of officers converged on the Lab, and Rich and Louis burst through the back door, collapsing next to her. They took one look at Bobby and grabbed him, lifting him off the ground and ran to the street just as an ambulance turned the corner. They continued running, and the ambulance driver slammed on the breaks as they met halfway down the block. EMT's jumped from their rig and Louis and Rich dragged Bobby into the ambulance and set him on the stretcher.

***

Case refused overnight admittance to the hospital. She'd been lucky; the bullet that hit her shoulder went in the back and exited the front. They'd wrapped and bandaged her shoulder and put her arm in a sling. Besides feeling like someone had tried to rip her arm off, her only focus was her partner, Bobby. She sat in the waiting room flanked by ATF agents and LAPD officers, Lieutenant Wallace and other members of the top brass. Rich sat next to her, his arm protectively around her, while officers continued to pour in from all corners of the city, concerned about one of their own. She let the tears fall freely whenever they came, and didn't care what anyone thought...all she could think about was Bobby, shot three times, now in the hands of surgeons who worked to save his life.