Good Cop/Bad Cop

 

It was an especially icy Christmas Eve in San Francisco. The nearby streetlight filtered through the night mist. The air was crisp and damp, forming a chill that soaked through the bone. It felt like death.  Off-duty Detective Officer, Treize Perry, waited by the Powell Street subway station entrance. He watched the bustle of last minute shoppers pure in and out of the Westfield Mall which opened up to the station. He sat alone on a cold bench, waiting. It was unusual for Relena to be late, he thought to himself. Treize yawned and stretched his arms and then quickly pulled them in again capture the escaping heat of his black overcoat.

A frosty gust of air exploded upward from the subway tracks below. The distant murmur of the computerized voice announced an approaching train. “Please be her train,” he said aloud to himself. He stood up and walked to the balcony overlooking the subway. He watched the two lanes of people entering and exiting the train doors, searching for his partner. The unmistakable glow of Relena’s red hair caught his eye. He walked to the escalator gate to meet her.

“Sorry I’m late! The train was delayed,” Relena called out as she rushed to Treize. She clutched a large, shiny black purse and wore black leather gloves which complimented her grey vest and long black overcoat. Her dark eyeliner contrasted her bright red lipstick and pale skin. She looked brilliant Treize thought. Her lips seemed especially full and her hair was shorter, now cut chin length and flipped out at the ends. He wondered how she could look so different after just two weeks of separation. Treize still wasn’t used to how elegant she looked out of her police uniform, which hid her curvy features. 

“No problemo Lena,” Treize replied as he tried to shake off the chill.

“Nobody has called me that for a while,” she replied as she leaned over and kissed him on the lips.

“Oh?” he said with an eyebrow cocked. He wrapped his arms around her lower back.

“It’s been ‘Ms. Relena’ or ‘Ms. Jordan’ for the last couple of weeks,” she said with a big smile.

“You don’t need to rub it in. While you been basking in the sun at your resort, I’ve been freezing my ass off running Johnson’s civil service shifts, telling smashed high-schoolers to get there little asses home,” Treize replied sarcastically.

“Aww, you poor baby. Let’s get home and cook you up some hot co-co, okay boo-boo,” Relena replied in a patronizing voice.

“Ha, ha, ha; you are so funny,” he moped as Relena took his arm, heading for the exit.

Just as they began to walk, Treize heard a loud commotion erupting from the subway platform. “Get down! Get down now! Put your hands up over your head now!” Treize heard from below.

“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me,” he said.

“Nothing like a good welcome home eh?” Relena shrugged.

“Someone definitely needs something bad for Christmas,” Treize chuckled to himself as he moved toward the railing overlooking the platform. But before he could get a good view of the confrontation, a distinctive loud clapping sound filled the air.

“What the hell?” Relena yelled. The crowd of nearby shoppers quickly joined Treize and Relena at the railing. An African American male, in his late twenties, laid face down with a chunk knocked out of the back of his mutilated head. A pool of blood quickly spread from the gaping crater. A subway police officer stood directly behind with his automatic sidearm in hand. His partner stood, jaw dropped, and frozen, as he stared at him.

            “Holy hell! What did the man do?” Treize asked.

            “He must have pulled something,” Relena replied.

Lena, do you see any weapon? And he is face down!”

“Geezus, I dunno.”

“I’m goin’ down to see what the hell is going on,” Treize said as he headed for the escalator. “No. Let’s get the hell out of here! I don’t need this in my head right now,” she replied as she pulled him back.

“What?” Relena you must be kidding. We gotta go down there.”

“No, Treize—baby. For me? Please? I just got home and I really can’t deal with this right now.” Relena took his hands and headed for the exit. Against his will, he reluctantly caved to her wishes and followed. As he gazed back, he noticed the collection of cell phones drawn and aimed down to the red platform.

 

Treize wiped the sleep from his tired eyes. He turned on his side and gazed at the bright red 5:09 a.m. displayed on his alarm clock. The thought of work made his chest feel heavy. He thought of the man’s brains spilled out over the light beige floor from a few days ago and felt nauseous. But then he was calm again as he felt two soft hands stroke his back.

“Some night, eh?” Relena asked in a soft voice as she kissed the back of Treize’s neck. Treize noticed that her Canadian accent that she tried to suppress snuck through.

“Umm hmm,” Treize replied while covering his face with his hands. 

“Welp, it’s time for work. Let’s go. We gotta be at the station in half an hour,” she said as she jumped up revealing her naked body and pulling the sheets off of Treize.

“Ugh,” he groaned as he forced himself up.

Over a bowl of sugar coated cereal, Treize watched the morning news’ continued coverage of the “execution style” killing at the subway station. “The news is sick,” he said aloud to himself as he picked up another spoon full. Apparently, cell phones captured the murder. The victim, now identified as Leroy Lewis, was shot in cold blood as he lay face down on the station platform. The killer, Officer Hayden Campbell was now missing. Treize shook his head and wondered what the hell kind of cops the subway system was hiring. He didn’t want to join all of the hype over the killing, but Treize couldn’t help wanting to look into the incident.    

Relena and Treize arrived at the station in separate cars to hide their relationship. The sun was finally out after a long rainy spell. Treize barely got to his desk before Captain Isaac Paxton stopped him. Treize worried that he had somehow found out about him and Relena’s less than professional relationship. But his boss was smiling.

“You are getting a new assignment today, buddy,” he told him in his big boomy voice. “You’re on the subway shooting that the news has been salivating over. You are to find the sucker and figure out his motives. It’s a heavy press investigation, so I don’t need to tell you to not to tell them anything,” he continued. 

“Uh, of course not. Wait, isn’t that Stephan’s assignment?” Treize asked with a perplexed frown.

“Nope, he’s relocated to Denver. It’s all you, buddy.”

“Very well then.”

“There’s a folder on your desk. Go get ‘em.”

Captain Paxton patted him on the shoulder and began to walk off. “Oh and your partner on this assignment is Officer Jordan.”

 

Treize and Relena got out of his graphite BMW 540i. They were both in civilian clothes for the investigation. Treize gazed up at the addresses along the street through dark Aviators. They were at the home of Officer Campbell’s partner. It was a small, off-white house that was obviously being refurbished. The yard was more weeds than grass. Relena swung the corroded brass knocker against the wood door. “His name is Lance Evans. He’s been serving with the subway police force for six years. Good record,” Treize told Relena as they waited. “How did we end up on this assignment together, Treize?” she asked. But before he could answer, the door cracked open.

“Yes?” A white man in his early twenties with dark wavy hair peered through the cracked door. He looked frightened.

“Is this the residence of Officer Lance Evans?” Treize asked.  

“Oh, yes that’s me.”

“SFPD. We’d like to ask a few questions regarding the shooting on Christmas Eve,” Relena said in her stern police voice as she flashed her badge.

“Uh, yes. Of course. Come in, come in.”

Wide open window shades thoroughly illuminated a rather featureless room. Plain white walls enclosed a brand new wood floor with two sofas, a coffee table, and a television set in one corner. Boxes lay everywhere.

“Please excuse the rather boring state of things. I just moved in and am fixing up the place a little,” Lance said as he led them to the sofas.

“Don’t worry about it. Nice floor,” Relena replied with a wide smile as she removed a pen and pad of paper from her back pocket.

“So, we have a couple of questions as I said before,” Treize began.

“So, you were patrolling with Officer Campbell on Christmas Eve correct?”

“Yes, we were assigned the San Francisco route that night.”

“Okay, and how long have you known Officer Campbell?” Treize continued.

“Oh, uh, let’s see. I’ve been stationed with the subway force for about five years and Campbell has been here since before me, so about five years.” Treize nodded. He tended to nod when he questioned suspects. He never really liked manipulating people so it became more of a nervous twitch.

“How well do you know him?” Relena asked this time.

“Not too well. He usually works the East Bay routes while I work over here so we didn’t work together that much.” Treize nodded again.

“And what kind of officer is he? You know. What kind of style?”

“Well if I understand your question correctly, he seemed like a normal kind of guy. Not the type that would be shooting people at random. He was a level headed kind of officer; tended to stick to the book.”

“Yes and that leads me to my next question,” Treize said as he removed his shades for the first time. Treize didn’t trust Lances’ nervous demeanor. He kept blinking and fiddling with an old chewing-gum rapper on the table.  He guessed that he was hiding something, but didn’t know how serious. “What actually happened on that night? What caused Officer Campbell to fire his sidearm?” Relena glanced at Treize and then looked back toward Lance.

“Well, we were on patrol and one of the officers, uh, Officer Devin, called in reporting suspicious behavior from a passenger. He said something about a passenger complaining about being watched or something.”

“Can you be a little bit more specific?”

“The call was to look for a passenger who fit the description of Mr. Lewis. Another passenger apparently felt that they were being followed. That’s all I know.”

            “Okay, continue. What happened next?” Treize was sure he was hiding something now. And he could tell Relena did as well as she gave Treize one of her looks.

“So um, let’s see. We found Mr. Lewis on a Richmond bound train. We began to approach him to ask where he was going and if he would exit the train for some questions. But I guess we must have spooked him because he took off. We told him to stop, but of course he wouldn’t. We apprehended him at the Powell station and cuffed him. That’s where things got a little out of hand. He really gave us hell. He gave us a lot of resistance and Campbell suffered a blow to the lip. So, after we finally got him down we drew weapons, ya’know standard procedure given the circumstances. But out of nowhere, Officer Campbell just shot him. I don’t really know why.” Lance began to fold the gum rapper into shapes with his fingers.

            Relena took over questioning, “He just shot him? He didn’t reach for a weapon or anything threatening?”

            “No ma’am. I know it sounds crazy. I guess that’s why he took off.”

            “Did he seem agitated afterwards? Did he say what he saw?”

            “I didn’t really get a chance to talk to him after. Backup and medics showed up.”

            “I see,” Relena returned as she folded up her pad. “Well, I think we are done here. Thank you very much Officer Evans,” she continued. Treize looked over to Relena and frowned. They stood up and headed for the door. Lance gave his first attempt at a smile as he stood up in relief, which he didn’t hide very well. He showed them to the front porch.

            Treize opened the door to his BMW. “Don’t you think we could have asked him a few more questions?” he asked. “He was obviously full of shit.”

            “We weren’t gunna get anywhere farther than we did with him. He I think genuinely didn’t know much. And if he didn’t get to talk to Officer Campbell about his motives, what more was there to ask? Oh shit, I left my cell phone inside. I’ll be right back.”

            She ran up to the door as Treize sat down and started the engine.

 

New Years Came faster than Treize had remembered for a long time. He had planned to take Relena to one of the numerous New Years parties in downtown. But the torrential rain that day was trying its best to destroy his plans. It was time for a much needed break from the continuous work of the investigation. After questioning various witnesses, Treize and Relena were essentially where they started. Nothing added up. Relena suspected that Campbell may have known Leroy Lewis, but they failed to find any relation.

Treize laid on his couch as the rain battered the roof. He felt warm and cozy in his wool sweater that his grandmother had knitted for him many years before. It was striped across with red and white which always made him feel like “Where’s Waldo” from one of the picture books, but he loved the warmth it provided on winter days.

Relena had left to gather a packet of test results from evidence at the scene of the crime. He buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath. It had been three days since they visited Officer Evans and Treize felt like he never really finished with his questioning. A silver clock on the wall displayed 11:00 o’clock. His scheduled meeting with Lance was in a half an hour, so he decided to call him to make sure he was home. He sat up and reached for the phone which was lying on a desk beside him. Half asleep, he knocked over a half empty soda can. “Fuck!” he yelled.

Too lazy to clean it up, he continued with his phone call and dialed the contact number for Lance Evans. No answer. He tried his cell phone. Invalid number. Treize threw the phone down and headed for the door. He grabbed a raincoat hanging from the coat-hanger by the front door and headed for Lance’s house.

The rain pored down in sheets. He pulled up to the small off-white house only to find a Zephyr Real Estate sign freshly mounted on the weed lawn. Treize got out and ran up to the door. The windows looked especially dark and the living room was empty. He stood under the awning and whipped out his phone.

“Relena. It’s Treize.”

“Hey I’m almost done here. I’ll meet you at Lance’s”

“Good, but hey I’m here at Lance’s house right now, and he’s gone.”

“What?”

“Yeah everything is gone. There’s a sale sign up. Some weird shit is going down here. I want you to call the subway police station to see where the hell he is and I’m gonna call the company who is selling the hou-“

Suddenly the nearby mail box shattered with a loud sharp bang. Another crack followed and the door window exploded behind Treize’s head. He ran straight for his car nearly tripping over the three stairs down to the pathway. Several bangs followed as weeds flew into the air. Bullets blended into the rain. Treize jumped into the car and mashed the accelerator. A bullet whirled by his head and straight through the windshield. He sped around the corner. His phone was still in hand as he awkwardly clutched the steering wheel. He looked at it to check if Relena was still on the line. A new text appeared on the screen. It read, “Please do us all a favor, and stop meddling where you have no business.” Then it began to ring. It was Relena. He put it to his ear.

“Treize!”

“I’m here!”

“Oh my God! What happened?”

“I don’t know. Someone just started shooting at me!” Treize was soaked and gasping for air.  

“Christ! Are you okay? I’m going to your house now. Let’s meet now. I’ll let Captain Paxton know what’s going on.”

“No, there’s no time! And don’t meet there. Someone is watching us.”

“What?”

“Ill explain later, just don’t meet there. Name somewhere else to go.”

“Uh, okay. Meet at the Embarcadero Station. It’s relatively close to you.”

“Alright, and Relena, be careful.”

“I will. Love you.”

As Treize put the phone down he noticed a police car in his rearview mirror. The blue insignia on the hood could only be that of a subway cop. Treize changed lanes a few times to see if he was following him. Suddenly his lights went on. “Shit,” he whispered to himself. He pulled off to the side of the road, retrieved his firearm out of his glove box, and stuffed it down his pants.  The cop slowly walked up to the window. Treize was surprised at how loud his boots were over the rain.

“License and registration please.” A tall blonde man with a beard stood at his door. The rain let up a little.

“What seems to be the problem officer?”

“License and registration please,” the officer said again sternly.

“Detective Officer Treize Perry. I don’t you have much jurisdiction on the streets of San Francisco. That’s my job.”

“Step out of the vehicle.”

“I’m sorry. You need to expl-“

“Step out of the vehicle now!” the officer yelled as he drew his gun.

“What the fuck is going on here!” Treize yelled as he unbuckled his seatbelt. He knew that this wasn’t a traffic stop; this was going to be an execution. Treize blasted the door open, slamming the officer backward, but he caught his footing. Two loud bangs immediately followed, sending a deadly puff of smoke into the damp air. The officer froze, and then dropped as a lifeless heap. Blood spouted from his neck. Treize gazed at the frayed seat behind him where the cop had narrowly missed him.

Treize stood motionless for a few seconds as he processed the death of the man. Time seemed to solidify. He became dizzy as he watched the blood continue to spew out of the tiny hole. He came to his senses after a large rain drop smacked his nose. He quickly began to search through the officer’s police vest. Besides a pack of cigarettes, a radio, and some change, he found a crumbled piece of lined paper. Officer Evan’s home. 11:00am. Red and white sweater, was scribbled on it. “Damn,” Treize exclaimed. “Set up.” He then checked the officer’s pockets. Treize removed a brown leather wallet containing ten c-notes and another slip of paper. However this piece of paper was not hand written. It was a printed subway schedule but with lists of what looked like different quantities of “chips.” Treize moved to the back of the police car and checked the trunk. The rain began to come down harder now. As the lid opened, his eyes were immediately caught by the captivating glare of bags of white powder.

Treize quickly closed the trunk and ran to his car. The sound of sirens began to penetrate the now roaring rain. As he sped away he dialed Relena’s number. The line was busy.

 

The Embarcadero Station was eerily empty this rainy, grey day. Electrical problems due to the harsh rain had closed down part of the San Francisco line and several stations including Embarcadero. The rain violently smacked Treize’s face as he made his way to the platform. There he saw Relena’s red hair glowing through the gloomy grey behind a temporary barrier. Treize jumped over the yellow tape to join her on the platform deep in the station. She wore a black cloche hat and overcoat which covered most her body. Upon further examination, thick tears poured down her rosy cheeks. “Relena!” Treize called out. But as he approached her, she revealed a grey pistol.  Treize stopped abruptly and stared at the grey instrument. He stood there immobile. An icy chill split down his spine.

“I’m sorry,” she cried out. “I’m so sorry.” Treize put his hand up.

“Whoa, whoa. Baby, what’s going on? Put the gun down.”

“I can’t! You don’t understand. You got to deep. I had too…..”

“Relena, what the hell is going on? What are you saying? Just put the gun down.” Treize’s voice quivered. He began to see his whole relationship with Relena flash before his very eyes like an old projector.

“Don’t you get it? You can’t interfere! You can’t!” she wept.  Her face was now as red as her hair, and her makeup streaked down her cheeks. The grey pistol shook.

“Interfere with what? What are talking about? Relena! You can’t be serious! Relena, they are trafficking drugs through the subway! Why are yo-,” Treize’s eyes opened wide and he leaned back, as if drifting through space. “It was you,” he whispered. You sent the officer that note. You told Evan’s to leave. You didn’t forget your cell phone. You set me u-“

“No! Stop it! Stop it!” Relena screamed.

“I loved you Relena,” Treize continued.

“Stop it!”

“I just want to know one thing; did you do it for the money? Or do you-“

“No! No! Stop!”

“Then what the fuck is it? Why are you doing this?” Answer me!” Treize felt a rage that was formed of sadness. It tore through his entire body and ripped through his heart. He wasn’t afraid of death. He was afraid of loosing Relena. And all he could see was here drifting away through a black hole in which he could not follow.

“Relena just put the gun down. Baby. Please. I lov-“

“No! No!” Relena shrieked. A sharp crack filled the platform. The air became heavy with silence. Treize stared at Relena, still clutching the smoking pistol. Her eyes were wild and panicked. Treize was surprised at how little it hurt. He felt cold, but no pain. He looked down only to see thick red blood drip from his body. He fell to the ground. “No!” Relena screeched as she ran towards him. She sat him upright, resting his head on her lap. “Treize! Treize! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I love you! Treize!”

Treize couldn’t speak. He could just hear Relena’s voice echo through the empty grey station. Treize breathed slowly. He looked into Relena’s sobbing eyes as she called out. He could no longer hear her, but just see here mouth move. Suddenly her expression abruptly changed as a muted thud barked from behind her. She looked straight ahead aimlessly as she coughed, and then fell to the side. Behind her, stood a dark figure holding a silenced sidearm. “Noooo!” Treize managed to call out. He took every once of strength left in his body to lean over to Relena’s aid. She was dead.

“You just had to keep prying didn’t you? She tried to protect you. She tried to reason with Evans. She tried to get him to not tell me about you snooping around my organization. But you were just too damn dense. And now look what happened,” The dark figure said in a calm voice.

“Why? Why did you shoot her?” Treize whispered. His vision blurred. He couldn’t tell if it was the tears inhibiting his vision or if it was the loss of blood.

“She was a security risk. It’s a shame; she was one of my more attractive associates. But she was always a little shaky. It was hard for me to trust her,” the dark figure replied.

“But, but, wh-“

“Oh, come on. You should know better than that. You know very well that this great country can’t function without these drugs. The economy would be set off balance. Collapse. It’s funny when everyone thinks you are the bad guy when you are the one actually keeping the stars and stripes on the flag. Sometimes you even have to protect the country from itself. Poor old Leroy Lewis had to learn that the hard way. Hopefully it sent a message to his government bosses. They should know better than to send federal agents into places they don’t belong. It’s America, home of the brave and land of the free. Whatever it takes to keep Uncle Sam happy, or rather fabulously wealthy.”

“You son-of-a-bitch.”

“Oh, no but you mean you great patriot. That’s what you meant to say. Don’t hate me Mr. Perry. I didn’t force people to buy these drugs. I didn’t want it to be an important part of America’s success. How do you think the government pays for all those new services and new plans? Taxes?” The dark figure gave out a hallow laugh. Treize began to loose focus. The dark figure’s voice came and went. “Stay with me Mr. Perry. Oh Mr. Perry? Mr. Perry?”

And that was the end. Treize faded off. There he laid by Relena’s side in the grey, damp, empty station. He died in the line of duty, for his country; the land of the free, and the home of the brave.