The Eighty-eighth Key Ch. 11

"Okay, Harry, okay...I get it. Could we just move on from the bad ole days and get with the program...?"

"Oh? There's a program? Do tell."

"I need a better handle on how to do a quick forensic homicide exam that'll hold up in court..."

"Why?"

"Because it's become harder and harder to trust the homicide dicks in my division. McKay thinks someone there is purposefully queering our exams to hamper our investigations."

"Why not just go to the Academy? Go through the homicide course?"

"Well, that's the hard part, Harry. Bennett and McKay think..."

Bullitt and Delgetti walked into the office just then and Al stopped talking.

"Frank!" Harry said as Bullitt walked up to his desk. "Where've you been?"

"Oh, Bennett has me working on some internal affairs shit," Bullitt said as he looked at Bressler. "Who's this?"

"My roommate from Basic. Working narco, been assigned to ride with me for a while."

Bullitt nodded as he walked off to his little cubby, Delgetti with him.

"That's Bullitt?"

"Yup. Second in command here, and as good as you've heard."

Bressler nodded. "I sure hope so," he sighed...leaving Harry with a few questions he thought he'd better not ask yet. "So, what are you working on?"

"Me? I'm clear right now, but I'm the on-call inspector tonight. Had dinner?" Callahan asked as he looked at his watch. "We probably have an hour before the real fun starts."

"We better get to it, then. Still do choir practice, or do you know a good place to grab a quick burger?"

"Been to Tony's?"

"That drive in over the tunnel?"

"Yup."

"I've heard about it, but never been. Any good?"

"Decent burgers, so-so fries, but they're fast."

"Sounds like a weener."

The intercom crackled...'Inspector 71, are you up there?'

"Yes!"

'Looks like a floater down by Pier 39.'

"Show me en route."

"So," Al sighed, "no burger, right?"

"Yup. ou get used to it."

They made it down to the waterfront in just a few minutes -- despite heavy afternoon traffic -- and Callahan saw a huge crowd gathered around patrol cars and an ambulance so he parked as close as possible before taking his 'suitcase' from the trunk of the Ford.

"You carry everything in that?" Bressler asked.

"All I need. If it ain't in here, I call for a CSU," Harry said as they walked out the pier. Gulls were crying overhead and the walkway still smelled like briny rot; the responding patrolmen had already strung 'crime scene' tape across the way ahead, so Callahan flashed his badge as they approached.

"Looks like a bad one, Inspector Callahan," the patrolman standing watch announced loudly, and Callahan felt the hair on his neck stand-on-end even as he nodded and ducked under the tape.

Another patrolman was waiting further along, leaning on the old timber railing and staring down into the inky water as he and Bressler walked up. Callahan looked down, saw a middle aged man face down in the water, the back of his skull blown away, as well as a loitering Harbor Patrol launch puttering around in lazy circles -- probably keeping the gulls from a much-anticipated feast.

Callahan caught the eye of the boat's driver and pointed to a rickety old timber ladder that led straight down to the water; the driver nodded and headed that way as Callahan made his way down, Bressler not far behind, and he hopped aboard the launch -- then holding onto the ladder as Al timed his jump with a passing swell.

"You touch anything?" Callahan asked as he surveyed the scene, and the driver -- also a police officer -- shook his head.

"No sir, but I just got here."

"See anything on the way in?"

"No sir."

Callahan nodded as the launch crabbed sideways over to the body, then he leaned over and turned the body face up.

"Fuck."

"What is it?" Bressler asked.

"Take a look."

Al sidled across the rocking launch and bent over...

"Fuck. Is that...?"

"Judge Perryman. Yup." Then Callahan saw a Buck knife had been left in the judge's chest. "Does that look like a calling card to you, Al?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, every patrolman in the city carries a Buck knife on their Sam Browne, right? And Judge Perryman? In the back pocket of half the mobsters and drug dealers in the city..."

"Ouch. I see what you mean..."

Callahan turned to the driver. "Need your radio, and switch to city primary."

"Right."

"Inspector 71," he said into the mic.

"71, go ahead."

"Need a full CSU my location, as well as divers. Notify 710, advise he is needed this location code two S, that's S for Sam."

"71 at 17:22 hours."

"710, show me en route," Captain Bennett said over the primary.

"710 at 17:23 hours."

Bressler tugged at Callahan's sleeve, then pointed to the crowd gathered on the pier...and Callahan groaned...

"Al, better go up and get everyone the fuck off this pier," Callahan said as he motioned the launch's driver back to the ladder. "And no reporters! Better have one of the guys up there call for more backup to work crowd control."

"Right."

Then, over the radio...

"710, 33 -- shots fired..." Bennett screamed. "Chestnut at Grant...I'm...taking fire...repeat...I'm..."

Callahan grabbed the radio and began shouting...

"Inspector 71 to all units...respond Code 3, but be advised this is a possible ambush situation, repeat, possible ambush. Dispatch, notify SWAT now!"

"71 at 17:25 hours. SWAT notified and en route."

"Al? Be careful. I mean it. Something's not right, so be fuckin' careful."

Bressler nodded and grinned before he jumped to the ladder, then Harry turned to the driver. "Let's take a quick look around..."

But in his mind's eye he felt the Huey lurch sideways before it slammed into the marshy waters of the boggy creek behind C-Med, and as always the fat white snake rolled up the windshield before it disappeared into the darkness...

© 2020 adrian leverkühn | abw | and thanks for reading...

[note: I typically don't post all a story's acknowledgements until I've finished, if only because I'm not sure how many I'll need until the work is finalized. Yet with the current circumstances that might not be the best way to proceed, and I'd hate to have this story stop 'unexpectedly' without some mention of these sources. Of course, the source material in this case -- so far, at least -- derives from two Hollywood films: Dirty Harry and Bullitt. The first Harry film was penned by Harry Julian Fink, R.M. Fink, Dean Riesner, John Milius, Terrence Malick, and Jo Heims. Bullitt came primarily from the author of The Thomas Crown Affair, Alan R Trustman, with help from Harry Kleiner, as well Robert L Fish, whose short story Mute Witness formed the basis of Trustman's screenplay. John Milius penned Magnum Force, and the 'Briggs' storyline derives from characters in that screenplay. Most of the other figures in this little romp derive from characters developed in the works cited above, but as always this story is otherwise a work of fiction woven into a pre-existing historical timeline, using the established characters referenced above.]