Loss of Innocence

I tugged on the battered aluminum framed door of the convenience store and stepped into the bright, white lights of my personal mausoleum. A familiar face was behind the counter. Nigel was perched on a stool, reading his organic chemistry textbook, lost in thought, when he looked up and saw me approaching the counter. A glint of recognition crossed his gaunt face, giving me a smile with his crooked teeth.

"Max, good to see you again," he said in a thoroughly British accent. He marked his page and closed his dog eared textbook. "Usual?" he asked me.

"Yeah," I sighed.

"Two?"

"Uh huh," I grunted.

"Tough night?" He must have been bored to be engaging in conversation with me. I guess organic chemistry would do that. I was bored as well, and desperately in need of human interaction.

"You can't imagine."

"Girl troubles?"

He was an observant motherfucker. He remembered me in there with Brianna.

"The worst kind."

"My girlfriend broke up with me," he offered, as if to share our mutual pain. I remembered he came here to Cincinnati to follow his American girlfriend. He was cast to sea as I was.

"That sucks."

"What happened to... Brianna was her name?" His powers of memory were impressive.

"She died," I told him. No need for all the details. The punchline was sufficient. He could fill in the blanks himself.

"A shame," he said, shaking his head. He knew she was a prostitute and a drug addict. A college man like him could put two and two together.

"Yeah," I acknowledged.

He stretched his lean frame and pulled two Smirnoff Green Apple vodka pints off the top shelf. I pulled out my credit card. He scanned and bagged them and then authorized my card on his register.

"You take care Max," he said as he handed me the bag.

"I'm not sure I can," I admitted to him. I shrugged my shoulders, picked up the bag, and shuffled out of the store.

I was delivered back to the Royal Palms. I went up the stairs and jiggled the key to open my door. The television was still blaring some mindless infomercial and I could still smell Heather's perfume, yet another reminder of how I'd messed things up. I needed to go to sleep. I wanted to go to sleep. To forget the nightmare I created. I was halfway through the second bottle when I finally fell into a drunken slumber.

* * *

Chapter Eight

The Reckoning

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Olek Shevchenko was holding a small sledgehammer. I was watching him pounding an anvil with it. I was naked and forced onto my knees on cold concrete. Two of his thugs were holding me as I struggled in vain.

He loomed over me and glared at me with hate filled eyes. "You little cunt. You have nose in place it don't belong. Put her hand here." He pointed to the flat striking surface of the anvil. I recoiled in fear, but was held in place.

One of his cronies twisted my arm and pinned my hand against the warm steel surface. Olek raised the hammer high over his head. I let out a blood curdling scream.

I woke up in a cold sweat.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Someone was pounding on my door. The front window overlooking the parking lot was rattling in its frame. Fortunately the drapes were closed and whoever was outside couldn't see in.

I checked my phone. 6:15 a.m. Fuck. My forehead was throbbing.

I got out of bed and staggered to the door. I almost tripped over my dress, which is where I left it after I stripped down for Heather. I was wearing only my panties. I cracked open the door, leaving the security chain on.

"Open the fucking door," said the voice behind the door.

It was Lehka. She had come home early. The day of reckoning for my sins.

I closed the door and undid the security chain. She pushed her way in. She was royally pissed.

"I called you at least a dozen times yesterday. You weren't in the apartment. I figured you were here or dead. What the fuck were you doing?" she demanded.

I was still half asleep and hung over. I was in no position to conjure up a believable lie. Instead I shrugged my shoulders.

She kicked an empty vodka bottle that was laying on the floor. It tumbled over and over and thudded against the wall.

"Drinking again Max? What the fuck is wrong with you?" I'd never seen her this angry. She threw back the covers on my bed. A pair of thong panties came flying out. They obviously weren't mine. Fuck. She picked them up with two fingers. They were half the size of the ones I wore, and besides which, I never wore thongs. Her eyes burned like hot embers.

"Whose are these?"

"I don't know," I said. I had no idea where they came from.

"I'm leaving Max. You broke my fucking heart again. You warned me. I didn't listen. I'm the fucking idiot. You're just pathetic." She threw the panties in my face.

She stormed out of my room and slammed the door behind her. I heard her stomping down the outside stairs.

I really fucked up. It was her first real relationship. She was the innocent in this. I let my demons get the best of me.

* * *

I took the rest of the morning to sober up and mentally get my shit together after another ride to the basement. Physically I felt awful, but mentally I felt even worse. Lehka's tongue lashing was going to leave mental scars for years. I took a long, hot shower to clear my head and took a cab back to City Hall to retrieve my car. I was back in our corporate apartment when my phone buzzed. It was a text message from Cap telling me to get to the station.

I put on my uniform and dragged my ass there. You wouldn't have known it was late Saturday morning from the bustle of activity in the station. I walked past Cap's open door on my way to the break room to make my first cup of coffee.

"Pemberton!" she shouted.

I peeked into her office.

"Sit. Now."

I slunk over to her guest chair. It was still warm from the last victim.

"Singh was in my office. She quit. She's going back to Columbus. What the fuck did you do?"

I stuttered.

"You know what, don't answer that question. Nothing you'd say would surprise me. When I Google 'fuck up' your picture is the first result."

"Sorry Cap."

"Look, I still need to solve this case. It's killing me and ruining my stats. You're all I've got now. I'm giving you Lanny back. He's waiting for you. Get the fuck out of my office and solve this case."

I left her office with my tail between my legs. I still had a nagging feeling that Shevchenko was shining us on, but I had no proof and no leads.

I continued on to the break room. Fortunately Lanny was there waiting for me. He handed me a cup of hot coffee. My blend. I took a sip and nodded to him.

"Cap told me about Lehka."

"Yeah, long story."

"Cap gave me the short version."

"I heard about you going to see Heather."

Lanny had met Heather before. He knew she was a beautiful viper and not to be trifled with.

"Yeah, that turned out to be a mistake," I admitted.

"Max, remember how you told me that everything you touches turns to shit, present company excluded?"

I'd told him that more than once. "Yeah?"

"Apparently it does."

"Fuck you Lanny, it's too early for that."

Did everyone need to remind me that I fucked this one up?

"Well, I got something that may cheer you up."

"What's that?"

A glimmer of hope? I desperately needed something to make me want to get back out there.

"Remember Charlene LaFleur?"

"Syd's wife?"

"Yeah, she's up for parole."

"No shit."

"I shit you not, partner."

A break that I'd been waiting for.

"I love you Lanny," I told him. I leaned across the table and kissed him on the cheek. This was the small opening that I needed.

"I love you too Max?" he replied, unsure of exactly how I was going to capitalize on that tidbit of information.

* * *

Lanny and I got into the patrol car. He was behind the wheel. I felt invigorated. The coffee and the new information. My optimism returned. I'd put Lehka mentally in the back of my mind. Solve the case first.

"Syd's?" he asked. He'd finally figured out the angle as well.

"Yep."

It was around noon when we went deep into the West End. Even though the station was bustling, this area was still asleep. Syd's was closed, but there were a couple cars parked in the back of their lot. The weathered front door was locked. I took the butt end of my flashlight and rapped it against the dented mental surface.

"Syd!" I called out. I keep hitting the door and calling his name until he opened the door.

Syd jerked open the door. His soulless dark beady eyes peered out. He was shirtless and wearing torn jeans. He looked like he'd just woken up.

"What the fuck do you want?" he sneered, keeping the door open only a crack.

I used my charming voice. "Gee Syd, aren't you happy to see me?"

He squinted in the bright morning light. Made him look like a hairless rat instead of a man. "Fuck off Max. Can't you see that we're closed?" He started to shut the door.

I pushed back and forced the door open. I probably had a twenty pound advantage on his scraggly ass. He had to give ground and let Lanny and me through into the darkened bar.

"This is harassment. I'm going to call your supervisor," he said. He just as well could have threatened to hit me with a wet noodle.

"Go right ahead Syd. Lanny, why don't you look up Captain Sheehan's number. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to hear from this dirtbag."

"Sure boss." He pulled out his phone.

"While he's looking, let's talk about Charlene."

He raised his thick eyebrows and glared at me. "What about her?"

"I hear she's up for parole."

"What of it?" The fight was leaving his voice.

"It would be a shame if the parole board were to deny it. She's still got five years left on her sentence and the women's jail... there's not many nice people that live there."

"You... you... wouldn't," he sputtered.

"Oh, but I would," I told him, waving my finger at him. "It would give me great pleasure to tell them about the little fencing operation you're running out of the storeroom. Not to mention you're harboring known felons in your bar."

Lanny stepped forward and grabbed him by his collar. "You know Max is a mean motherfucker. I wouldn't mess with her. Not if you love your wife."

I was proud of Lanny, playing the good cop.

"What do you want?" His shoulders drooped. He seemed resigned to his fate.

"Information," I told him.

"About what?"

"About whom?" I corrected him.

"Just fucking tell me."

"Shevchenko."

"No."

"You know, I have a lot of friends in prison that owe me a favor. They'd love to introduce Charlene to the joys of female love. Being married to a scumbag like you, that's got to be an improvement."

"He'll kill me."

"Wouldn't that be a shame."

"Please." The sniveling bastard was pinned, pleading me for mercy. Precious. I wished I could have bottled that moment.

"Just give me something useful and I'll do what I can on her parole application."

"I'll think about it. Now get the fuck out of here."

"You know how to reach me."

I was certain he would. Shitbirds like that were easy to read.

"That went well," Lanny said to me outside the bar.

"He's got to have something," I said. Shevchenko holds court in there. He sees who's coming in and out and can probably overhear a bunch of it."

We got back into the cruiser, hopeful.

"Where to boss?"

"Nicky's. For some reason I feel hungry as a horse."

* * *

We were at our usual table, finishing a very satisfying meal. Most of the noon lunch crowd had left and Nicky was cleaning off the tables. We ordered the veal parm, and of course I got a tomato stain on my uniform. I was dabbing it off with a wet napkin when my phone rang.

"I'm not calling you."

It was Syd. And he was definitely calling me.

"OK Syd. I'll play. Since we're not talking, what would you not have told me?"

"I wouldn't tell you that Olek was talking to someone in the Mayor's office."

"Really?"

"Whose name wouldn't you be telling me?"

"Heather... Heather Murtaugh."

What the fuck? I thought. Heather?

I threw my wet napkin on the table. "Lanny, drop me off at City Hall and then go back to the station. Tell Cap it's definitely Shevchenko. Ask him if he'll approve surveillance at Shevchenko's house, Syd's and Kolba's. I'll see you back there after my meeting."

"With who?"

"Heather Murtaugh."

"Heather?"

"Don't ask."

* * *

I showed up at the reception desk. The same cute twenty something with multiple piercings and tattoos was texting on her phone. She looked at me annoyed.

"May I help you?"

"Heather Murtaugh please."

She checked her computer.

"Ms. Murtaugh is in a meeting." She went back to texting on her phone. I might as well as been invisible.

No one was going to stop me. Not now. I walked with purpose to the security door to the executive suite of offices.

"Officer! Officer!" I heard the receptionist calling me.

I looked back at the receptionist. "Open this. Now," I told her. I can be intimidating when I'm in uniform. I can also be intimidating when I'm not in uniform.

She seemed shellshocked. She pushed the button to let me into the executive suite. Heather's door was closed. I opened it. She was standing, leaning on her desk, pointing at a document with an older man looking over her shoulder. The man looked at me. I recognized him. It was Mayor Whitefeather.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Officer Pemberton. I have official business with Ms. Murtaugh. It's private."

He looked at Heather. She shrugged her shoulders.

"OK, I'll leave you to it." He left her office and closed the door behind him.

"Max... what the fuck?" Heather asked. She of course was impeccably dressed and radiating her special brand of beauty. Her eyes travelled to the tomato stain on my pants.

"Heather... Olek Shevchenko."

She gave me a puzzled look. "What about Olek Shevchenko?" She was a beautiful actress as well.

I walked up to her and grabbed her wrist and squeezed.

"Hey... that hurts," she complained.

"Heather..." I tightened my grip.

"OK..."

I let go. She rubbed her wrist. It was already turning red.

"He threatened me."

"How?"

"My sister."

"I don't understand."

"She's in care. She was in an auto accident ten years ago and needs 24 hour nursing care. He told me he was going to hurt her."

"Tell me what happened."

"I got a call from someone with a heavy accent telling me to go to this bar called Syd's. He told me it was concerning my sister."

"OK."

"A car picked me up here and took me to Syd's. It's a horrible place by the way."

It was a bad visual seeing Heather in a dump like Syd's. I saw where this was going.

"Anyway, there's this big guy sitting in the back. He says he's Olek Shevchenko. I knew who he was. His name came up during our police commission meetings. Anyway, that's where he threatened me."

"About what Heather? You're stalling."

"Uhh. He asked me about you."

"Me?"

"He asked me how well I knew you. Apparently he knew about our meeting at City Hall and why you wanted the money. He also knew about you and Lehka living together."

"So?"

"He asked me if I liked you. I told him I did. He asked me to be friendly with you."

"How friendly?"

"Very friendly."

"So it was all an act? Making us meet at the Bearcat Club on Friday night? And wearing that fucking sexy dress?"

"No Max. I swear. I like you."

I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"What about the panties?"

"When I took you back to your room you went into the bathroom to vomit. I... I took them off and put them under the covers."

Damn. Shevchenko was devious and so was Heather. If Lehka and I split up, it would cripple our investigation.

"You were trying to drive a wedge between Lehka and me," I accused her.

She admitted her sin. "I guess so. I'm so sorry Max. I didn't know what to do."

"You could have told me."

"I was afraid for my sister. That Shevchenko guy scared me."

I started to leave.

"Max?"

I whirled around. She could see I was still angry.

"I'm sorry."

"You're a politician. Sorry's not in your vocabulary. Have a good day Ms. Murtaugh."

I slammed her door. I never imagined I'd do that to her.

* * *

I went back to the station. Lanny was waiting for me.

"Cap wasn't impressed by the connection between Shevchenko and Heather. She didn't approve anything."

"Would it do any good if I went in there?"

"No. In fact I think it'd make it worse. You're not exactly on her good list right now."

"I don't think I'm on anyone's."

"I think we need to keep working this. Something will come out of the woodwork," Lanny said, trying to buoy my hopes.

"I hope you're right."

"Max, why don't you do some paperwork to get your mind off this and then get a good night's sleep? We'll hit this again in the morning."

Lanny had a point. I needed sleep, and I needed to get my head on straight. I felt like a ship being tossed around in a storm. I tackled the mountain of paperwork on my desk, and before long realized it was pitch black outside.

I couldn't stand being in the corporate apartment with reminders of Lehka everywhere. I went back to the Royal Palms to recover from my conversation with Heather. Not only was Shevchenko the kidnapper, he framed the Columbians and discredited me in the process. I got into my motel room and flicked on the light. A pig would be ashamed to live in my room. I picked up the empty vodka bottle and threw it in the trash. I took the half full one and sat down on the shabby upholstered chair that faced the television set. There were cigarette burns on the arms, ones I didn't put in them. I turned on the television and twisted off the cap off the unfinished pint. There weren't any paper cups within reach so I took a swig directly out of the bottle. I welcomed the burn in my throat. It reminded me I was still alive.

My phone buzzed, There was a text message on it. It was from Syd. It simply said "See me."

I was glad I was only a few sips into the bottle. No chance of a DUI. Fortunately, I never got around to donating my car. It still had a few good miles in it, rust spots and all. It was almost midnight, and there was no traffic on the road. As I approached his bar I saw the usual assortment of homeless people wandering aimlessly on the sidewalk. I parked my car two blocks away and got out of my car. I pulled a baseball cap low on my face and walked to the back entrance of the bar, standing away from the light cast by the overhead fixture above the door. I texted him back that I was waiting for him.

A few minutes later the door opened. Syd spotted me in the shadows and cozied up next to me.

"We're not talking Max."

I was tired of his senseless game. "Right Syd, just fucking spit it out."

"Charlene's parole hearing is next week."

"I know that." I didn't, but he didn't know that.

"You said you'd put in a good word."

Now I did remember saying that. And even though it pained me, I keep my promises, even to a shitbird like him.

"Yeah, I did, and I will if you've got something good for me."

"Shevchenko's moving the women. He thinks the heats off so he's sending them to Detroit."

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

"Where can I find them?"

"Detweiler Street." He gave me the address.

Fuck, that was the same street Brianna died on.

"You promised," Syd reminded me, as if I had already forgotten.

"Right Syd, if this pans out, you'll see your honey soon."

"Shevchenko will kill me..."

"I know, I know," I said, interrupting him.

He looked around the parking lot. There wasn't anyone watching us. He went back into the bar without looking back at me.

* * *

Finally. My hunch paid off. The hunch that cost me Lehka. It was a Faustian bargain, one I'd made many times in my life. I woke up Captain Sheehan and met her at the station. I shared the information I so dearly paid for. She was delighted. It was our first big break in the case. She authorized a stakeout of the address, mindful of the warning I gave her about Shevchenko's ability to sniff out surveillance.