L a Requiem (1999) by Robert - Elvis Cole 08 Crais Page A
Authors: Robert - Elvis Cole 08 Crais
Ads: Link
the tablet in frustration. "Are you telling us you don't know about any of this?"
"Yes, sir."
Krantz, red-faced and eyes bulging, leaned over Pike and shouted, "You're lying! You're in on it with him, and you're going to jail!"
McConnell said, "I think we've walked far enough down this road, Harvey. Officer Pike seems to be telling the truth."
Harvey Krantz said, "Bullshit, Mike! This sonofabitch knows something!" When he said it, Krantz jabbed Pike on the shoulder with his right index finger, and the rest happened almost too fast for McConnell to see.
McConnell would later say that, for a guy who looked so calm that he might've been falling asleep, Pike came out of the chair as fast as a striking snake. His left hand twisted Krantz's hand to the side, his right clutched Krantz's throat. Pike lifted Krantz up and backward, pinning him against the wall a good six inches off the floor. Harvey Krantz made a gurgling sound and his eyes bulged. Louise Barshop jumped backward, scrambling for her purse. McConnell jumped, too, shouting, "Step back! Officer, let go and step back!"
Pike didn't let go. Pike held Harvey Krantz against the wall, Krantz's face turning purple, his eyes staring at Pike the way deer will stare at oncoming headlights.
Louise Barshop shouted, "Leave go, Pike. Leave go now/" She had her purse, and McConnell thought she was about to pull her Beretta and cut loose.
McConnell felt his stomach clench when Pike, who hadn't let go, whispered something to Krantz that no one else could hear. For years afterward, and well into his retirement, Detective-Three Mike McConnell wondered what Pike had said, because, in that moment, in that lull amid the shouting and the falling chairs, they heard the drip-drip-drip sound and everybody looked down to see the urine running from Krantz's pants. Then the most awful smell enveloped them, and Louise Barshop said, "Oh, God."
Harvey Krantz had shit his pants.
McConnell said, as sternly as he could muster, "Put him down, now, son."
Pike did, and Harvey hunched over, his eyes filling with rage and shame as the mess spread down his pants. He lurched knock-kneed out of the room.
Pike returned to his seat as if nothing had happened.
Louise Barshop looked embarrassed and said, "Well, I don't know."
Mike McConnell retook his seat, considered the young officer who had just committed a dismissible offense, then said, "He shouldn't have laid hands on you, son. That's against the rules."
"Yes, sir."
"That's all. we'll contact you if we need to see you again."
Pike stood without a word and left.
Louise said, "Well, we can't just let him leave like that. He assaulted Harvey."
"Think about it, Louise. If we file an action, Harvey will have to state for the record that he shit his pants. Do you think he'd want to do that?" McConnell turned off the Nagra. They'd have to erase that part of the tape to protect the boy.
Louise glanced away. "Well, no. I guess not. But we'd better ask him when he returns."
"That's right. we'll ask him."
Harvey Krantz would choose to let the matter drop, but Mike McConnell wouldn't. As he and Louise waited awkwardly for Krantz's return, it occurred to McConnell just how he could fuck the arrogant, supercilious little prick for going over his head the way he had. In less than six hours, McConnell would be playing cards with Detective Lieutenant Oscar Munoz and Assistant Chief Paul Winnaeker, and everyone knew that Winnaeker was the biggest loudmouth in Parker Center. McConnell was already planning how he would let the story slip, and he was already enjoying how the word of Harvey's "accident" would spread through the department like, well, like shit through a goose. In the macho world of the Los Angeles Police Department, the only thing hated worse than a fink was a coward. McConnell had already chosen the name he would dub the little prick: Shits-his-pants Krantz. Wait'll Paul Winnaeker got hold of that!
Then McConnell felt his own guts knot and he
"Yes, sir."
Krantz, red-faced and eyes bulging, leaned over Pike and shouted, "You're lying! You're in on it with him, and you're going to jail!"
McConnell said, "I think we've walked far enough down this road, Harvey. Officer Pike seems to be telling the truth."
Harvey Krantz said, "Bullshit, Mike! This sonofabitch knows something!" When he said it, Krantz jabbed Pike on the shoulder with his right index finger, and the rest happened almost too fast for McConnell to see.
McConnell would later say that, for a guy who looked so calm that he might've been falling asleep, Pike came out of the chair as fast as a striking snake. His left hand twisted Krantz's hand to the side, his right clutched Krantz's throat. Pike lifted Krantz up and backward, pinning him against the wall a good six inches off the floor. Harvey Krantz made a gurgling sound and his eyes bulged. Louise Barshop jumped backward, scrambling for her purse. McConnell jumped, too, shouting, "Step back! Officer, let go and step back!"
Pike didn't let go. Pike held Harvey Krantz against the wall, Krantz's face turning purple, his eyes staring at Pike the way deer will stare at oncoming headlights.
Louise Barshop shouted, "Leave go, Pike. Leave go now/" She had her purse, and McConnell thought she was about to pull her Beretta and cut loose.
McConnell felt his stomach clench when Pike, who hadn't let go, whispered something to Krantz that no one else could hear. For years afterward, and well into his retirement, Detective-Three Mike McConnell wondered what Pike had said, because, in that moment, in that lull amid the shouting and the falling chairs, they heard the drip-drip-drip sound and everybody looked down to see the urine running from Krantz's pants. Then the most awful smell enveloped them, and Louise Barshop said, "Oh, God."
Harvey Krantz had shit his pants.
McConnell said, as sternly as he could muster, "Put him down, now, son."
Pike did, and Harvey hunched over, his eyes filling with rage and shame as the mess spread down his pants. He lurched knock-kneed out of the room.
Pike returned to his seat as if nothing had happened.
Louise Barshop looked embarrassed and said, "Well, I don't know."
Mike McConnell retook his seat, considered the young officer who had just committed a dismissible offense, then said, "He shouldn't have laid hands on you, son. That's against the rules."
"Yes, sir."
"That's all. we'll contact you if we need to see you again."
Pike stood without a word and left.
Louise said, "Well, we can't just let him leave like that. He assaulted Harvey."
"Think about it, Louise. If we file an action, Harvey will have to state for the record that he shit his pants. Do you think he'd want to do that?" McConnell turned off the Nagra. They'd have to erase that part of the tape to protect the boy.
Louise glanced away. "Well, no. I guess not. But we'd better ask him when he returns."
"That's right. we'll ask him."
Harvey Krantz would choose to let the matter drop, but Mike McConnell wouldn't. As he and Louise waited awkwardly for Krantz's return, it occurred to McConnell just how he could fuck the arrogant, supercilious little prick for going over his head the way he had. In less than six hours, McConnell would be playing cards with Detective Lieutenant Oscar Munoz and Assistant Chief Paul Winnaeker, and everyone knew that Winnaeker was the biggest loudmouth in Parker Center. McConnell was already planning how he would let the story slip, and he was already enjoying how the word of Harvey's "accident" would spread through the department like, well, like shit through a goose. In the macho world of the Los Angeles Police Department, the only thing hated worse than a fink was a coward. McConnell had already chosen the name he would dub the little prick: Shits-his-pants Krantz. Wait'll Paul Winnaeker got hold of that!
Then McConnell felt his own guts knot and he
Similar Books
