"Is that why you let those men off so light tonight? I would have been truly pissed at them when I found out what they were trying to do."
"I think knocking their heads together might have been emotionally satisfying for me, but it wouldn't have been the educational experience they needed. That's why I flashed my badge. I wanted them to know that Official Notice had been taken of their activities."
"Then you should tell Bob Foster about what you discovered. Make an official report." Bambi advised.
"That's a good idea. If the police find evidence of a crime that matches their MO, they'll know where to start investigating. Even if it wasn't them, those gomers will know that they haven't got a prayer of getting away with anything.
"I don't like the idea of being on-record officially, though. That's just the sort of thing I'm trying to avoid. I need to have an informal channel into local law enforcement. Something that could work both ways. Something a good bit lower than the Sheriff. And I think I know just who that might be."
A call to the Sheriff's office told me that the unit I wanted was working the second shift and would not be off duty until 11pm. I didn't want to wait that long, so I spent a few minutes with Neeka in the newly renovated workshop brushing up on radio operations and etiquette. When we were dressed and ready I made the call.
"Delta-Romeo-One calling unit Bravo-Three-Niner." I thought I sounded very professional. It was only a couple of seconds before I got an answer.
"Bravo-Three-Nine, go ahead."
"Bravo-Three-Nine, go to Tac-3." Tac-3 was one of the channels used for special operations when they wanted to get their conversations off the main channel. I hadn't been specifically authorized to use it, but there was nobody on it at the moment.
"Copy, Delta-Romeo. Going to Tac-3." I clicked over to the private channel and waited a few seconds.
"Bravo-Three-Nine, what's your 20?" I asked.
"We're Southbound on Grove, passing de Leon. What's up, DR-1?"
"Three-Nine, can you 10-56 at Brownlow Park in 15? I have some information for you."
"Can do, DR-1, it's pretty quiet out here right now. Uh, excuse me DR-1, have we met?" The radio was too good. He recognized my voice.
"It's your fairy godmother, Murphy. See you in 15. Tac-3 is clear."
Neeka jumped on the bike and started throwing switches while I propped the doors open. When she was ready, I got on and she fired the thing up and shot us into the night.
Riding at night was much the same to me as riding in the day, since I kept my eyes shut the whole way. We arrived at the park early and Neeka parked the bike out of sight behind a dumpster. We waited behind some bushes next to the small parking lot.
Brownlow was just a small community playground with some well-worn swings and see-saws. No one used it at night. Probably because the only light was a streetlight next to the parking lot.
The black-and-white patrol car that was unit B39 rolled up right on time and pulled into a parking spot a few feet away. It was a mild night, so they had their windows down and we could see Murphy and Rosario clearly. When they turned off their headlights, I got down on all fours and started to crawl toward the car.
I was alongside the driver's door when I heard Murphy tell his partner, "... the truth. Honest, Bert! The Sheriff told me to keep quiet about her, but if she turned up to do anything she asked and not ask any questions."
I stuck my head up next to the open window and said sharply, "Good evening, Murphy!"
Both deputies jumped like they'd been shot. I thought it would be harder to sneak up on a couple of cops, but it was almost too easy.
"Jesus! Don't do that! Please!" Rosario said.
"What's wrong, Bert? Bad heart?" I said.
"Not yet," he said, "but I'm getting there."
Rosario flinched again when he realized that Neeka was standing next to his window. She could be sneaky too, when she tried. She smiled reassuringly, but left the talking to me.
"I'll get right to it, guys," I said. "I don't want to hold you up, but I need to talk."
"Sure, anything," Murphy said. He and Rosario got out to stretch their legs and I crawled up on the hood of their car and sat with my legs crossed. This way, I wouldn't be talking up to them quite as badly. Neeka stood a few feet away, making Rosario nervous by staring at him.
I said, "Do you get any calls out at the 6440?"
"Yes, ma'am. We're out there pretty regularly. Mostly fights and stuff," Murphy said.
"Any drugs?"
"Some possession. No trafficking, if that's what you mean."
"How about rape? You pick up any girls on the road that look like they've been doped?"
"Just about a month ago we had a call about a lost girl out that way. She looked like she'd been roughed up a little and she was pretty out of it, but she didn't say anything about rape."
"Probably because she couldn't remember it." I dug the vial out of my pack and handed it to Murphy. "I think this is Rohypnol, or something similar. I'd appreciate it if you'd have the lab look at it and let me know if I'm right."
"No problem. What's going on?"
"I got this off three good-old-boys out at the 6440 tonight. They tried to use it to take advantage of someone who turned out to be a lot more than they could handle."
Murphy smiled. "I guess I know who that was."
"Yeah. Well, I thought maybe this wasn't the first time they had tried something like that." I gave him a description of the three and the names that they had given me, along with their possible employment and what I suspected they had been doing with the girls.
"So you think the victims are either too embarrassed to report it or they just can't remember because of the drugs?"
"That's the idea. I tried to give them a proper respect for the law, but I wanted someone to know about this in case they backslide."
"Hey, thanks. We'll keep an eye out for them. It's always easier when you know who the players are."
"No trouble at all, Murphy. Now you tell me something. Are those kids OK?"
He didn't need any prompting about which kids we were talking about.
"Yes ma'am. They came through fine. They were just a little rattled. Once we got them and their mothers out of there, they calmed right down."
"I'm very glad to hear that. That makes me feel a lot better."
Murphy looked at me like he just figured out that the kids weren't the only ones who had been upset. He wanted to say something, but he didn't have a clue what to say.
"Tell me something else, Murphy. Tell me how I can help."
"I'm not sure..."
"Who are the bad guys? Where are they? Where do you want them and in how many pieces?"
Murphy look stunned. He looked like someone had just shown him a bomb and asked where to drop it. The temptation must have incredible. After all, Murphy knew what I could do. He'd seen it.
"I wish it was that simple," he said. "I really do, ma'am. But the fact is, if we knew who they were, we'd be watching them every second of the day, making sure that they never got the chance to hurt anyone.
"But it doesn't work that way. The really bad guys don't all wear black hats or have thin mustaches or tattoos or anything to set them apart from everyone else. They look just like you or me or... well like me or Bert or anyone. They even act like anybody else until they do something bad. You've seen the TV interviews: "he seemed like such a nice man" right before he took an axe to his family.
"Bert and I are supposed to be out here protecting people, but sometimes it seems like we're just referees at a fight, or janitors, because mostly we just come along afterward and clean up the mess."
Murphy held up the vial of white powder. "You found three tonight and prevented a felony. You're way ahead of us. We wrote a few speeding tickets and gave a homeless man a ride to a shelter. So you tell me, ma'am — how'd you do it?"
"They found me, Murphy," I said, sighing. "I was in the right place at the right time."
"That's something you can do that we can't. When we're around, folks are on their best behavior. A lot of our job is just cruising around to discourage crime by being seen. You can go places and not be seen. Or you can go places and not be suspected. You can be there when it happens and make a difference in how it turns out. Or keep it from happening at all."