Storymania - The Left Arm Of The Law by Steven R. Kravsow

The Left Arm Of The Law
Steven R. Kravsow

Charlie Underwood had grown up on the streets, preferring the predictable danger of the world to the unpredictable violence that confronted him when his father, a foul tempered drunk, remembered to live at home between binges. Unlike his father, Charlie developed a deep sense of right and wrong; a strong sense of moral outrage that protected him-- and his mother-- from his father. Charlie would do anything to shield his mother from this man.

On his eighteenth birthday-- it was put to the test. His father had managed to drink himself mean before the party guests arrived. Soon the arguing began. Charlie had seen it so many times before. The drunken bastard father lunged toward his wife, swinging a huge hairy fist. Charlie heard the sharp crack of his hand striking her cheek. A mean red streak crossed the bridge of her nose. She threw her hands up to ward off another blow. He raised his hand again but lowered it as Charlie closed it. The old man pushed Charlie away, then staggered out of the house.

Charlie raced out of the door after him. Up ahead, Charlie's father weaved his way up the stairs to the roof. He bounced against the sides of the dark hallway like a ball in a pinball machine. He tripped over a trash can overstuffed with debris, cursed, then reached for the door that led to the roof of the building, and his beloved pigeons. Charlie always hated the birds because his father treated them far better than he treated him or his mother. He followed his father to the roof.

"Hey pop! Turn around!" Charlie called to his father who was bent over the pigeon cage cooing back to them.
Slowly Charlie's father stood up and turned around. "What the hell do you want? I thought I told you never to come up here?" He wiped some spittle away that had gathered at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, unaware that he was still holding a cracker for the pigeons. He took two steps closer to his son.

"Look, pop! Why don't you do us all a favor and give me a real birthday present. Why don't you just get the hell outta here and get out of our lives. We'll survive without you."

Suddenly his father's eyes flashed. He lurched toward the boy. "Why you little son of a bitch!" he roared. "Think you're a real tough guy don't you?"

He swung his huge fist at the boy who easily ducked the punch. The man swung again but this time Charlie side stepped him and gave him a shove. Charlie's father lost his balance. Arms flailing, his scream pierced the night air as he fell over the parapet wall and plunged to the ground. The thud reminded Charlie of those ripe melons that sometimes fell off the produce trucks. The sound was sickening.

Charlie looked over the side and stared down at the still form. He expected to be sick. He wasn't. He let out a long breath.

"He musta fell over the side," Charlie explained to the policeman. "He keeps his pigeons up there. He was drunk when he went up there. We was having a birthday party and when he didn't come down right away, I went looking for him up here. I didn't find him. Then I looked over the side and there he was."

"Anybody see him fall?" the cop asked.

"No. I told you he was gone for a while. I guess nobody was around." The cop nodded.

"Whose birthday was it, kid?" the cop asked.

"Mine."

"Some birthday present, eh kid?" the cop said, patting his shoulder.

Charlie nodded.

It had been so simple. And so it remained his secret. He did what he had to do. He protected his mother.

A few months later, Charlie joined the army where he dutifully sent home his paycheck, keeping only enough for emergencies. He served a tour in Viet Nam where he refined the skills that enabled him to survive in that awful place as a member of the Special Forces. All the while he knew that when he got out of the service, he wanted to be a cop. He enjoyed trying to create order out of the chaos that surrounded him in the jungles. He felt the need to protect those souls who could not protect themselves. After he was discharged in 1971, he went to the State College and majored in criminal justice. He joined the force in 1975. And now, at age 40, he seemed to have it all.

Charlie Underwood was a good cop. In fact, Charlie was one of the best cops that ever worked the force. He possessed three commendations for valor, two meritorious service awards, and a Purple Heart-- which he received when he wrestled a gun away from a crack wired guy in a domestic dispute.

Charlie was truly a shining star in the department at a time when it most needed heroes like him the most. He visited schools, talked to civic groups, hob-nobbed with local politicians, and took justifiable pride in his job and how he did it.

Unlike so many veterans who let the pain and suffering of the job get to him, he was able to maintain a distance. He viewed himself more as a referee than a sheriff. He had the ability to size up a situation, clarify the issues, and then defuse volatile situations through persuasion and common sense. And when that didn't seem to work, he always seemed to make his arrests with a minimum of difficulty. Sure, the uniform and the badge helped, but Charlie seemed to have the gift. And so it came as no surprise that he had one of the highest conviction rates in the force.

"You'd better be sure you don't break the law yourself and end up in the joint," his buddies would tease, "because just about everyone you ever put away is still in there." And Charlie would always reply, "Gotta take the bad with the good, I guess."

"Charlie!" Susan called from the bedroom as he dried himself off from his shower. "Can I borrow your car this afternoon? I've gotta go see my mother."

"What's the matter with yours, honey?"

"Don't you remember, Charlie? I told you last week I've gotta take my car to the shop. They're finally gonna replace my radio. I'll be back in time to pick you up."

Charlie folded the green striped towel and put it on the rack to dry. "Right. I forgot all about that. How you gonna get it?"

"Jeannie will drive me over to the station to get your car after we drop off my car. I gotta visit mom for awhile, then I'll swing around and pick you up."

"Sure, honey. No problem. Just be sure to be there by five. It's been a hard week and I can't wait to get the hell outta there and chill for the weekend," he said as he put on his uniform and inspected himself in the mirror, satisfied.

He opened the bathroom door and came into the room. "Just be careful this afternoon. They say it's supposed to rain so take your time."

Susan smoothed out the covers on the bed and came over to him, curling her arms around his neck. "Don't worry, fraidycat. I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself," she purred, kissing him gently.

"I know you can, honey. I just meant that it's supposed to rain hard this afternoon and I always worry when you're out driving in that stuff. That road to your mother's has more twists than a belly dancer's routine."

"Don't worry, I'll be there waiting for you when you get off from work. Trust me. Okay?"

"Okay," Charlie replied. "Just one more kiss and I'm off."

Susan opened the passenger's door to Jeannie's car, climbed in then shook the rain from a sleeve. "God, Jeannie, it's really pouring out. Now I'm sorry that I've got to see my mother. Charlie's right. That road is a pain when it's raining, but I promised her I'd come up. I've been stalling her for almost a month."

"Well, just call her and beg off. Tell her you'll make it in a few days."

"No," Susan sighed. "I'd rather get it over with. She's expecting me. It's less of a hassle this way." She shrugged her shoulders.

"You're the boss, Suz."

"Here we are. There's Charlie's car over there."

Jeannie pulled up next to the car and put the transmission into park.

"Thanks again, Jeannie. I'll be okay. This is really stupid. It's not really the driving, it's just that a visit with mom is always so hard; 'when you gonna get married dear?'" Susan mocked. "' I'm the only one who's not a grandma yet. You're not getting any younger dear,'" she laughed, imitating her mother. "It's just so damned tiring."

"I hear you, Suz. My mother's a pain that way, too. I think all mothers are. It's probably something genetic. Hell, we've probably got it, too. And some day, when it's our turn we'll be laying it on our daughters with the best of 'em."
Susan flipped up the hood on her jacket and opened the door a crack. "Yeah, Jeannie. God we're doomed! Catch you later, okay?" She got out of the car and raced over to Charlie's Toyota.

Joey Watson glanced at the clock on the dashboard. 4:14. "Damn," he muttered. He was going to be late. The guys were waiting but he didn't want to go any faster down this twisting road with the rain coming down so hard. They'll just have to wait longer, he thought. "They damned well better," he said aloud.

Joey was supposed to meet three of his buddies at 4:30 in the commuter lot on the East Side of town. Then they were heading for Boston to see the Celtics play. It looked like he wouldn't be getting there until closer to 5 and it would take close to two hours to get there. They'd been planning this night for weeks and he knew they'd be royal pains by the time he arrived.

Joey looked at the dashboard click again. 4:32. I think we might just make it after all, he thought. The car hugged the twisting road in spite of the teeming rain, making it difficult to see, even though the wipers labored to do their job.

Suddenly the steering wheel began to vibrate. At the same time, the wheel began to feel mushy. Joey took his foot off the accelerator and gently tapped the brakes as the car began to slow down. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and parked it at the shoulder. He wanted to get the car closer to the right but a guardrail was in the way.

"Sonofabitch!" he yelled, pounding his fists on the steering wheel. He shut off the ignition. "I don't have time for this." He opened the door and stepped out into the rain.

Joey bent down and checked the left front tire. It was flat. "Son of a bitch!" he yelled. "Not tonight, for Chrissakes, not tonight! I gotta get outta here."

He kicked the tire in frustration and then headed for the trunk. "Damn it!" he yelled again, slamming his fist against the lid. He inserted the key into the lock and opened the trunk. Then he reached inside for the jack.

Susan rounded the corner. The police station was just ahead. She glanced quickly at her watch but the watch was missing from her wrist. "Oh, no!" she groaned to the inside of the car. "My watch!"

She remembered now. She had taken it off and placed it on her mother's table so she could be sure not to spend more than an hour-- which felt more like three-- with her mom. And as usual, her mother had started her usual refrain. Susan had gotten up from the table and paced around the kitchen. She always needed the room to maneuver during these battles. And then, when she couldn't stand it any longer, she kissed her goodbye and headed for the safety of the car-- without her watch-- the one that Charlie had given her for her birthday. And now Charlie was going to kill her because they would have to go back and get it. She didn't want to be without it until her next visit.

Charlie came out of the station just as she pulled up to the entrance. "Move over will ya, honey? I'll drive." Susan slid over the console and slipped into the passenger's seat, rubbing her thigh where the gear shit had jabbed her.

"Hey Charlie! See you guys at the club later for a few brews?" asked Terry Newland, Charlie's partner who suddenly appeared at her window. He waved to Susan.

"Yeah, Terry. We'll be there in a little while," Charlie said as he opened the car door. "Don't drink the place dry before we get there." He closed his door and drove away.

Susan leaned over and kissed Charlie on the cheek as he headed into traffic.

"Hi, honey. How was your day? Not too bad, I hope?" she whimpered.

"Oh, oh. I know that voice," he said. "Have another fight with your mother?"

She crinkled her nose. "Of course I did. Mom and I were good for about ten minutes before the cross examination began."

"Sorry, babe. Let's get over to the club and forget about her for a while."

"Well, honey. I'd like that...and I know you're tired and you had a rough week," she said softly.

"I knew it." Charlie raised a brow. "I knew there was more coming. What else happened?"

"Nothing bad. It's stupid, really." She stroked his arm. "I forgot my watch over there. I took it off and put it on the table so I could keep track of the fun and tenderness mom and I share. But we started the usual arguments and I left without picking it up. And I don't plan on seeing her for a while..."

"So you want to go back up there and get it. Right?" Charlie's mouth dipped into a frown.

She nodded. "Yeah, Charlie, I do. Then we can go to the club. Okay? It's not that far, really. You gave me that watch..." she said, her voice soft again, ".... And it means so much to me. Don't be mad, baby. Please?" She squeezed his arm.

He sighed deeply. "Okay, hon. If it means that much to you." He did mind but he wanted her to be happy. Otherwise the weekend would probably be a disaster and they'd end up there anyway. Might as well get it over with now, he thought.

Charlie turned onto the winding road that led to Susan's mother's house. He noticed the dash clock. Even in this rain, they would be there in less than twenty minutes. Then it would be off to the club and party time.

Charlie saw the car parked on the opposite shoulder. He noted the poor soul hunched over the tire jack, changing a tire. Could be worse, Charlie thought. I could be him. Hope he's gone by the time we come back. He shook his head.

Charlie slid over into the passenger's seat as Susan entered the car and waved her watch at him. "You drive to the club, Suz. I think I'll take a short cat nap. Wake me when we get there but be careful in this rain. The visibility stinks."

"Okay, honey. And by the way, mom says 'hi'," she laughed, as she accelerated once more out of the driveway. "Just relax for a while. We'll be at the club in a few minutes."

Susan concentrated on the road as they headed back to town. The rain had increased considerably and even with her hi-beams on, the visibility was poor. She eased off the gas a bit and the car handled smoother. Susan looked over at Charlie and saw that he was already asleep. She was always amazed at how fast he could fall asleep. He said it was a habit he learned in Nam.

"Sonofabitch," Joey swore as he hunted for the final lug nut. It had taken far longer than he expected because one of the nuts had frozen and he had to hit it repeatedly with the jack handle before it loosened. At last he replaced the tire and began fastening the lugs back in place. But as he put the last one on it fell off and landed under the wheel. "God damn it to Hell!" he roared as he felt around under the tire. In a moment his fingers found the missing lug and he bent down to pick it up.

Susan rounded the turn, which curved to the right. The wipers did their best but they could not keep up with the rain pouring down on the car. As the car came out of the curve, Susan saw the car parked along the shoulder and nudged the wheel to the left to give her more room to pass, just as the oncoming car blinded her with his lights. She never saw the shape bent over by the front wheel changing the tire.

Joey looked to his right in time to see the headlights from the oncoming car heading straight toward him. He let out a scream as the car struck him and tossed him into the air as if he were a rag doll.

Susan screamed as the right front headlight shattered followed by a sickening thud. The car shuddered briefly and she hit the brakes in panic. The skidded but Susan quickly brought it back under control and braked to a stop.

"What the hell was that!" yelled Charlie awakening instantly from his nap. "What the hell happened?"

Susan's legs were shaking so violently that they were banging against the bottom of the steering wheel. Charlie reached over and shut off the ignition. "Grab onto the wheel tight. I'll see what happened. Stay here!" he commanded as he jumped out of the car into the rain.

"Oh, shit! Oh, Jesus Christ!" Charlie said as he saw the limp body lying along the side of the road. He ran over quickly and knelt down beside the form. As he attempted to roll him over, Charlie could see that Joey's neck was broken. He was dead.

Leaving the body, Charlie ran back to his car and examined the right side of the car. The headlight was smashed and the fender was dented but the car was drivable. Charlie quickly went to the driver's side and opened the door. Susan's hands were still locked onto the steering wheel.

"Move over, Susan! Come on, come on, I'll drive!" he said but Susan didn't budge. Charlie gave her a shove but her hands stayed riveted to the wheel. Charlie slapped her crisply across the face and Susan started crying. Tears flooded down her cheeks. "Come on Susan. We've got to get outta here...now!" He shoved her again and this time she slid over to the passenger's side. Charlie closed the door, started the car, and accelerated away from the scene.

"Don't worry, honey. It's gonna be all right," he said looking over at her. "Everything's gonna be all right," he repeated. He already knew what he would have to do and he began going over it in his mind.

He glanced over at Susan once more. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her legs, as she rocked back and forth in the seat. He listened as she moaned softly next to him. "Trust me, Susan. Everything's gonna be okay. Charlie will take care of everything. Don't you worry." Charlie glanced into the rear view mirror. The road was empty and black.

Charlie studied her as he sipped from his drink. She was still trembling and her mascara had dissolved into dried black rivulets. She hadn't moved since they'd gotten back to the apartment. He put his half-empty drink on the coffee table and walked over to her.

"Susie, honey," he said as he stroked her tangled hair. "What just happened was a terrible thing. But that doesn't make you a terrible person. It was dark and rainy. You could barely see. I should been driving on a night like this, anyway. Not you. And maybe if I had, this wouldn'ta happened. Or maybe it woulda, but it woulda been me driving instead of you."

"Oh, Charlie," she wailed. "I just killed a man. I ran him over because I didn't see him but he's still just as dead!" She buried her head in his chest. Her shoulders heaved as the sobs wracked her body.

"But the fact is... that he is dead and if you turn yourself in, you'll be charged with vehicular homicide-- that's manslaughter with a car. And you could go to jail. And I can't have that."

She started to shudder again. He squeezed her tighter. She sniffled, bating at her eyes with the back of her hand. Susan began to calm down again.

"On the other hand," he continued, " it's my car and they might think that I was driving and a cop in jail is a dead man."

She looked up at him and wiped away some of her tears with the back of her fists. "Oh, Charlie," she whispered. "What are we gonna do?"

Charlie let her go and stood up from the arm of the chair. He began to pace. "I think I've got it just about figured out." He looked at her. "Neither one of us can afford to go to jail. Right?"

Susan nodded her head in silent reply.

"Okay." He grabbed her arms again. "Then here's what we're going to do. Now listen carefully because we've got to do this right the first time." The girl nodded again.

"I hit the guy and he's dead, and I am so distraught over it I'm going to kill myself."

Susan's head snapped upright like a jack-in-the- box. "Charlie?"

"I'm not really going to do it, Susan. I'm going to fake it. Then we're going to skip the country until things cool off."

I-I don't get it Charlie. How are you going to fake it?"

Charlie sat down again opposite her and took her hands in his. "This is what we're going to do."

Eli Verrick raised his head slowly and glared at the ringing phone with irritation. He put down the Exacto knife and sighed deeply. "All right, all right. I'm coming. Keep your pants on for Chrissakes!" he shouted to the phone.

He picked it up on the tenth ring. "Yah. Whuddaya want?" Eli barked into the phone.

"It's me, Eli. Charlie."

"Well, well, well. Long time no hear. What can I do for you, Charlie?"

"I need a favor," Charlie said wasting no time getting to the point. "Actually I need two."

Eli laughed. "I don't see or hear hide nor hair of ya for, what, at least a couple of years and now you call me wantin' not one, mind you, but two favors."

Charlie ignored the dig. Eli was the best forger of papers in the entire area, and he owed Charlie. Charlie had once looked the other way when a bust went down. Eli walked. It wasn't that Charlie was dishonest. He'd only done it once. Call it extra insurance. It was just that he thought of himself as resourceful-- like in the jungles of Viet Nam; always thinking about the future. And you never knew when some personal services might be required. Like he had always told Susan, if things ever went wrong, a cop in jail was a dead man, and Charlie had every intention of living to a ripe old age.

"Look Eli, I need some clean paper for me and for Susan and I'll need it fast," Charlie said quickly. "Passport, driver's license, social security card-- for each of us."

"How fast do you need it?"

Charlie looked at his watch. It was after midnight, which meant that it was now Saturday. "By Sunday afternoon-- latest. Can you do it?"

"Charlie, Charlie, Charlie! What kinda question is 'can you do it'? Of course I can do it." Verrick strung out his words for effect. "I still got those fifty-cent pictures of you two lovebirds you sent me. Are they okay?"

"No, Eli. Not anymore. I'm gonna have brown hair and a mustache and Susan's gonna have curly blonde hair about shoulder length. Is that a problem?"

"Yah. I'll need new pictures. How soon can you get 'em to me?"

Charlie thought quickly. "I'll take some 35's of the two of us in a few minutes. I'll put the roll in the film canister and drop it off for you. Where do you want me to leave 'em?"

Eli thought for a moment. "You know that phone booth at the east corner of the park? The one at the corner of 7th and Washington?"

"Yeah, I know the one you mean."

"Tape the canister to the underside of the counter in the phone booth. I'll pick it up at 8 am. Okay?"

"Can't you get it any sooner?" Charlie asked, irritated at the wait.

"Charlie, I'm an old man. I need my sleep," Eli laughed softly.

"All right, Eli. 8 am. How much?"

"For anyone else, it'd cost 5 grand a set. But for you, Charlie, since you were kind enough to save my ass a few years back, I'll take 5 G's for 'em both. Okay?"

"Done." Charlie breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good, put the 5 grand in an envelope and tape it alongside the canister."

"Sorry, Eli. Half with the canister, the other half upon delivery."

Eli sighed into the phone. "Okay, Charlie. Take advantage of an old man. Half with the canister, half upon completion."

Charlie relaxed for a moment. "When do I get the finished papers?"

"Noon. The papers will be taped underneath the same counter. Put the cash in an envelope and tape it where the papers were. Capice?"

"Capice, Eli. And thanks. It was a pleasure doing business with you," Charlie replied, satisfied with the arrangement.

"The honor is all mine, Charlie. I'm a professional. Always glad to do my civic duty." Eli paused for a moment. "Hey, Charlie, what did you do, kill somebody or somethin'?"

"Something like that." Charlie lowered his voice, "And remember, Eli, no tricks. I know where you live."

"Don't worry, Charlie," he replied, sounding hurt. It's bad for business." Verrick hung up the phone.

Charlie replaced the receiver and turned to Susan. "Okay, here's the deal. In a few minutes I'm gonna write a note saying I hit that poor guy and that I'm distraught and I can't live with myself. I'll leave it on the passenger's seat of my car so nobody'll miss it when they come looking for me. I'm gonna pick up our passports at noon. Then I'm gonna take the car up to the reservoir and park it near the water. I'm gonna walk around for a bit to leave some tracks. Next I'm gonna fire my pistol once. You got that so far?"

Susan nodded but she looked confused.

"Look Susan. I'm leaving a suicide note, then they'll find my car at the reservoir. They'll find the note. Then someone will recall hearing a shot and they'll think I killed myself somewhere up there. Got it, now?"

"Yeah, Charlie," she said softly. "Now I see what you're doing." She continued to hug herself as she sat in the chair. "What are we going to do next?"

"Then I'm gonna walk out to the main road but I'll be wearing a brown wig and a mustache. I'll hitch a ride
back to town where I'll meet you at the bus station. I should be there by three."

"But won't somebody be looking for us or something?" Susan reached out a trembling hand to the half-filled glass on the table. The cubes rattled like castanets as she took a sip.

"Not by then. No reason to put two and two together, yet. They won't have any reason to look for me until I don't show up for work. Probably won't find the car for a few days. We'll be long gone by then."

Susan nodded again. "Okay, so we're at the bus station. What then?"

"Well, first, you'll be wearing your blond wig and we'll take the bus to New York. Then, we'll taxi out to LaGuardia-- it's smaller than Kennedy-- and we'll buy two tickets to Chicago."

Susan was confused again. "Why Chicago, Charlie? Don't we want to get out of the country as fast as we can?"

"Sure we do, honey, but we want to obscure our tracks, just in case somebody is looking for me-- or us. Then we buy two tickets for Mexico City. From there we'll buy two tickets for Brazil. Then we're history." Charlie sat back and smiled, satisfied with his plan.

Charlie walked over to Susan and put his arms around her. She leaned into him and he felt her shudder. "Why are you doing this for me, Charlie? You're throwing away everything you ever worked for." She began to cry again.

Charlie held her for a long time before he answered. Finally, he replied, "Because ever since I was a kid, I realized that life consists of a series of choices. It all boils down to what you make of 'em, and who you make 'em with. And I learned at a very early age that you protect those people that you love. No matter what the cost."

"But Charlie," she said as she kept her head nestled in his arms, "I killed a man. I didn't mean to. It was an accident. But he's just as dead as if I did it on purpose."

Charlie sat silently for a moment. He stroked her hair as if he was petting the fur of a kitten. "I know, Susan. But the fact is that I can't let you go to jail. And if I keep quiet, then they'll think I did it and I'd never survive the rap. So we've got to do what we've got to do. And, fortunately for the both of us, I'm in a position to do something about it. Call it an insurance policy."

Susan lifted her head and wiped her eyes. "But will we ever be happy again, Charlie?"

"Yeah, we'll be happy. My best buddy, back in Nam, had relatives in Brazil and when we got out, he decided to visit 'em. Took me with him before I started school. Sort of R & R. It's beautiful there. You'll see. Start learning Portuguese.

She stared at him.

"Life is always filled with choices. I've just made mine."

Eli Verrick opened the Sunday paper. He always liked that edition. He liked to lay it out on his couch and read it from cover to cover while he drank steaming hot cups of coffee. As he unfolded the paper, he spotted the headline and the lead story. It told the story of the man who was hit by a car and killed as he changed his tire on that rainy Friday night. But it was the headline that grabbed his attention:

COP HITS MOTORIST!

ABANDONED CAR FOUND AT RESERVOIR!

SUICIDE NOTE FOUND!

"Son of a gun!" Eli exclaimed. "Son...of…a… gun!" He grabbed his cup and held it up making a toast. "Good luck, Charlie Underwood!"