Grant of Immunity, page 10
20
Babbage
With his headlights on high beam, his spotlights on and directed straight into Erin’s car, Babbage could observe the overall interior as he walked toward the passenger side of Erin’s vehicle. He’d use his flashlight to illuminate and examine the inside of the car. Although he was certain she was alone, years of experience had taught him that things were not always as they seemed. It would be just like that bitch to have someone or something that he needed to be careful of. He was at his best: his world, his turf, his project. He motioned for Erin to roll down the passenger-side window.
She complied.
Standing at the open window, he used the flashlight beam to scan. He needed to see her hands first, then everything in the front seat and on the floorboard. He saw immediately that Erin held a cell phone in her right hand. What the fuck was she doing?
“Put the object you have in your hand on the passenger seat, ma’am. Then put your hands on the steering wheel where I can see them.” Babbage had decided that until he was certain they were alone and unmonitored, he would play it straight. For all he knew, the bitch was wired or had a voice recorder with her.
Erin did as he commanded. Her hand shaking, she placed the cell phone on the seat next to her. She put her hands on the steering wheel. Her knuckles were white—she’s clutching it like a life raft, Babbage thought with satisfaction. It felt good to be in charge. He continued to scan the interior of the vehicle. The rest of the vehicle was clean and neat, with a purse on the passenger-side floor and a folded sweater-jacket on the back seat.
When satisfied that all was safe, he spoke again. “Please exit the vehicle, ma’am. At the passenger side, please.”
“Sergeant Babbage, is this really necessary?” she asked. Her voice wavered, but she continued. “You can be sure I’m not giving you a blowjob this time. And don’t think you caught me driving outside of my restriction. I’m on my way to work.”
Babbage felt his face flush. Fucking cunt, he thought. She actually thought she could outsmart him. But she was having an effect on him. He wished he could tell her his plans for her—that would wipe that arrogant look off her face. Just the thought of what he had devised for her sent a jolt of pleasure to his groin.
“Who were you talking to on the phone?” he asked.
“Detective Fitzgerald. He’s still on the line, listening. He wants to talk to you.”
“Is that so?” Babbage said. He smiled to himself. Fitzgerald must have fucked her, the way he followed her around. Well, he made a big mistake this time.
“Give me the phone,” Babbage snapped as he grabbed it. “Who’s on this line?”
“Babbage? Fitzgerald here. We have to talk.”
“About what?”
“About Erin. She has every right to drive. Her restriction allows her to go to and from work, and that’s exactly what she’s doing.”
Babbage snorted. “You’ll have to do better than that, Fitzgerald. You know as well as I do—that’s the line that everyone uses when they’re caught driving. I’ve got her work schedule, and tonight she’s off. And her work is in the opposite direction. Unless she’s driving to her program or work, she’s in violation of probation, no matter what phony story you and she concoct.”
“I don’t give a damn what you think. The woman is driving within her restriction, and if you don’t let her go immediately, I’m going to call Captain Becker.”
“Okay,” Babbage finally said, an exasperated tone in his voice. “I’ll check out her story. I’ll permit her to call the restaurant on this phone. If the manager verifies it, I’ll let her go. Otherwise, I’m taking her in.”
“Suit yourself. But you’d better let her go in the next five minutes. No one’s ever going to buy the coincidence that you just happened to stop her.”
“You can think whatever the fuck you want,” Babbage said. “She’s a drunk and a whore, and she belongs in jail. I’m going to put her there. And just to show you that I’m operating by the book, I’ll call you back and inform you of the results. If she’s driving legally, I’ll let her go. If not, then she’s going to pay the price.”
Babbage flipped the phone closed and looked at her. “According to Fitzgerald, you claim you’re going to work, even though you’re heading in the opposite direction. Is that right?”
Erin nodded. “That’s right. I’m meeting someone to get keys, and then I’m going directly to work. If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll prove it to you.”
Babbage said, “What’s your work number?”
She gave him the number. Babbage opened the phone and dialed. “It’s ringing,” he said. “What’s your supervisor’s name?”
“Alex. Alex Brennan.”
Erin’s stress eased, and she felt a little better. Fitz had come through for her and Babbage was grudgingly giving her a chance. He’d have to let her go now. Things were going to be okay.
“Hello,” Babbage said into the phone. “This is the Los Angeles Police Department calling. Official business. May I speak with Alex Brennan?” A moment passed. “Mr. Brennan, this is Sergeant Babbage of the LAPD. Do you have an employee by the name of Erin Collins? Can you tell me if she is scheduled to work tonight? She’s not?” Babbage smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Brennan—”
Stunned, Erin grabbed the phone from Babbage. “Alex, this is Erin. I’m filling in for Jimmy tonight. His wife called me and told me he was sick and couldn’t make it.”
“Jimmy came in ten minutes ago,” Brennan replied.
Erin felt a sharp pain in her stomach. Please, God, Erin thought, let this be a mistake. “Could I speak to him, please?” she said.
“Hold on a minute.”
She waited.
“Erin?” It was Jimmy’s voice. “What’s up?”
“Jimmy. I got a call from Barbara about forty-five minutes ago telling me you were sick and asking if I’d fill in for you tonight.”
Jimmy said, “That’s impossible. Barbara’s visiting her mom in Seattle this week. Someone must be playing a joke on you.”
Mechanically, Erin hung up the phone.
Erin felt like she was drowning. That shark Babbage had to have planned this whole thing. She realized now that Babbage had allowed her to grab the phone away. He knew all along. She had to call Fitzgerald back before Babbage took the phone again. Frantically, she punched in the number, hoping she hadn’t misdialed. She looked up at Babbage, expecting him to yank the phone from her hands, but he just watched her.
The phone rang. Finally she heard Fitz’s voice. “Fitz, I was set up. They didn’t know anything about me working tonight. What am I going to do?”
“Where’s Babbage now?” Fitz’s voice was calm.
“Right here next to me. I’m still in the car.”
“Hand the phone to him,” Fitzgerald said. “If I don’t get a chance to talk to you after this, try not to panic. I’ll find out where you are, and as soon as I hang up, I’ll drive out to meet you.”
Erin handed the phone to Babbage. “He wants to speak to you.”
Babbage took the phone, continuing to watch Erin. She glared back at him. Tears of anger and helplessness rolled down her cheeks.
21
Fitzgerald
Fitzgerald’s mind was racing. Of course Babbage had set Erin up. And if that maggot was capable of going to this length, he was capable of anything. He had to be stopped, but how? Fitzgerald’s first thought was to call Captain Becker. But without proof, he knew that Becker would never intervene. And without intervention, Babbage would arrest Erin and she’d be completely at his mercy.
Somehow, some way, Fitzgerald could never let that happen. He’d start with reason. If that didn’t work, goddammit, he’d call Becker and, by Christ, make him intervene.
“Babbage?”
“I’m listening,” Babbage replied, evenly.
“I know how you feel about Erin, and maybe you have a right to be pissed. But surely you must see how bad this could look for you. She makes a complaint against you, and you just happen to arrest her. I don’t want to get Captain Becker involved in this, but I will. Tell you what. Give her a break. I’d be glad to come and pick her up. I’ll even arrange for a tow of her car. She called me before she left her apartment tonight. I told her it would be okay to drive, and I stand behind my word.”
“You’d drive all the way out here to pick her up and arrange a tow?” Babbage paused, and then said, “You really have it bad for this woman. What, are you fucking her?”
Fitzgerald’s hand tightened on the phone. Control, he thought. He forced himself to be calm again. “I’m not fucking her, whether or not you believe that. But it’s in your best interest to give her a break. How about it? I’d owe you one.”
“You bet your ass you’d owe me one.” Silence, briefly. Then, “Okay. We’re on Getty Center Drive, just south of the off-ramp to the 405. I’ll have her cuffed and sitting in the back of the patrol car. I wait forty-five minutes, exactly. If you’re not here by then, I’m taking her to the station and booking her.”
“I’ll be there. Don’t leave.”
Fitzgerald rushed out the door, apprehensive but hoping that maybe everything would be okay.
Half an hour later, Fitzgerald arrived. Babbage was out of the car, his hand-held radio in his left hand as he directed a tow truck to the front of Erin’s car. The truck was backing up, positioning itself for the tow. Babbage’s car was behind Erin’s. Fitzgerald parked his car behind the patrol car and got out. He could see Erin in the back seat of the police car. Her head was bowed. Fitzgerald started toward her, to tell her that things were going to be okay, but Babbage must have seen him arrive and walked over quickly.
“Well, well, Fitzgerald,” he said. “True to your word, you’re here in just …”—Babbage looked at his watch—“… thirty-two minutes. You must have dropped everything. And you’re telling me you’re not sleeping with this woman?”
“I see you’ve got the tow truck all squared away,” Fitzgerald said. “You can release Erin to me. I’ll see that she gets home okay.”
“Just a minute. Let’s get something straight. I stopped Erin Collins when I caught her driving illegally. You claim you told her it was all right, and that I should release her to you. What the hell do I put in my report on this thing?”
“Does dispatch know you made the stop?” Fitzgerald asked.
“Of course. You don’t think I’d pull a suspect over without checking in with dispatch first, do you?” Babbage’s tone was sarcastic.
Fitzgerald grimaced, furious at his dilemma. No doubt Babbage was planning something. Reporting in to dispatch would mean that there would be a record that he stopped Erin. There would have to be an incident report, and Babbage would have to explain why he let Erin go.
He made a quick decision. “Put in your incident report that she was legitimately going to work to fill in for a sick colleague.”
“And just what are you going to do for me to justify my lying in my report? It better be good.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
Babbage grinned. “You stupid son of a bitch.” Then he put his hand-held radio up to his mouth and spoke. “Did you get that, Lieutenant?”
“It’s all on tape, Babbage,” a voice said from the radio. “Tell Fitzgerald to report to Captain Becker tomorrow morning at oh-eight-hundred. Book the female and see me at oh-three-thirty hours. I’ll take responsibility for approving the crime report.”
“Thanks, Lieutenant. I’ll be there at oh-three-thirty. Babbage out.” Babbage walked to his patrol vehicle and placed the hand-held in the front seat. He turned to Fitzgerald, still grinning. “You dumb bastard. I pulled the same fucking trick on you that you tried to pull on me. You heard the lieutenant. Be in Captain Becker’s office tomorrow morning at oh-eight-hundred.”
Babbage got into his vehicle and drove off slowly, waiting for an opportunity to merge with freeway traffic. Fitzgerald stood there, watching the patrol vehicle leave with Erin in the back, handcuffed. She turned, desperation in her eyes—then she was gone. Fitzgerald watched the tow truck drive off with Erin’s car.
22
Fitzgerald
Fitzgerald jumped back into his car and took off after Babbage, not letting the bastard get out of his sight. He hoped that Babbage was too smart to try anything after reporting in, but Fitzgerald wasn’t going to take any chances. He caught up and then slowed to keep pace. Babbage must have seen him, but it didn’t matter. Fitzgerald had to make sure Babbage drove straight to the jail and followed proper procedure. If Babbage didn’t like Fitzgerald behind him, too fucking bad. What could he do? Call the FBI? Complain to his lieutenant?
They reached the Parker Center jail in downtown L.A. Fitzgerald parked in the employee lot and walked back to where Babbage had parked. Babbage had Erin handcuffed, her hands behind her, and out of the back of the patrol vehicle. He was escorting her to booking. Fitzgerald followed.
Babbage turned. “Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Fitzgerald didn’t reply, just gave Babbage a hard look, and then spoke to Erin. “I’m here. It’ll be okay.”
Babbage glared at him. “Back off, Fitzgerald. You’re in enough trouble. Don’t compound it by interfering with my arrest or attempting to communicate with the prisoner.”
Erin turned, her face contorted with hatred, and spoke to Babbage. “You bastard. You set me up. Who was she? What did you give her to get her to call me? Or was she another one of your victims?”
“Shut up.” Babbage pushed Erin forward so hard that she stumbled, but regained her footing.
“This stinks, Babbage,” Fitzgerald said, “and you know it.”
Babbage shoved Erin through the rear entrance door.
It was all Fitz could do to keep from punching Babbage in the face. Never had he come so close to losing it, but he knew that he had to control himself for Erin’s sake. It gave Fitz some satisfaction to see Babbage so pissed. His face was red, and a vein on the side of his neck throbbed.
The three walked down a short hallway leading to a large, open booking area. Uniformed cops sat at metal desks entering booking information and taking arrestees’ fingerprints.
As they passed the watch commander’s office, a sergeant came out and approached them. Fitzgerald recognized the sergeant as Jerry Smith, one of the two watch commanders. Smith had been assigned to the Parker Center jail for the last fifteen years. Barrel-chested, with close-cropped white hair and dark-blue eyes, he wore a perpetual frown that intimidated the younger cops. But those who regularly worked with him found out he had a wry smile and a dry sense of humor. Smith knew every detective in the Robbery-Homicide Division.
“I’ve got a female to book,” Babbage said, pushing Erin forward.
“Okay, Sergeant,” Smith replied. He motioned toward the bench at the wall. “Sit her there, and I’ll have a female officer process her.”
Smith looked at Fitzgerald and smiled. “Hey, Fitz. What brings you here?”
“He’s friends with this female,” Babbage said. “He’s already interfered in the arrest process. He’s not to communicate with her, by order of Lieutenant Hardy.”
Smith frowned, looked at Fitzgerald, and started to say something, but Fitzgerald shook his head. Smith’s eyes flashed understanding, and he didn’t speak.
Presently, a uniformed Hispanic woman appeared. Her dark hair was pulled back in a bun. She was of medium height, stocky, but looked to be in excellent physical condition. She smiled at Fitzgerald and said, “You have a female to book, Fitz? Kind of late for you detectives, isn’t it?”
“I’m the arresting officer,” Babbage snapped.
The policewoman gave Babbage an icy stare. “Aren’t you a patrol supervisor, Sergeant? What are you doing making an arrest?”
“Just do your job and process the female,” Babbage said.
“Go to hell, Babbage,” the policewoman said. “You may be hot shit in your unit, but in here, we know all about you.” She looked at Erin. “Come with me, ma’am.” She took Erin away to be searched and processed.
Babbage said to Smith, “I’ve got to see the lieutenant briefly, so I’ll be back later to sign the paperwork. Remember, Fitzgerald is not to talk to the female. I’ll ask the lieutenant to call you and fill you in on the details.”
Babbage left.
Smith looked at Fitzgerald. “What’s with him, Fitz? What the hell’s going on?”
“I’m in trouble, Smitty,” Fitzgerald said.
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t give you all the details, but I tried to convince Babbage to release the female. This is a bullshit arrest. He says I told him to lie on his report.”
“No one who knows you would believe that, Fitz.”
“This is the woman who accused him of forced oral sex under color of authority. I was the investigating officer on that case.”
“Jesus,” Smitty said. “We’ve all been talking about it. What happened? The fucker should have been fired. I couldn’t believe the guy got reinstated.”
“He had a good lawyer,” Fitzgerald said, and then took a deep breath. “I expect that Lieutenant Hardy will confirm you’re not to let me talk to her.”
“Do you really need to?”
“I’d like to, but I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“I appreciate it,” Smitty said. “I have an idea. Go home. After she’s booked, I’ll let her telephone you there. She’s got a right to call whoever she wants, so I won’t be violating any orders.”
“You’re a pal, Smitty.”
The phone rang and Smitty picked it up.
“Smith here.”
He listened. “Yes, sir. I will, sir. I understand, sir.” Smitty looked at Fitz, nodded, then hung up. “Get out of here, Fitz.”
