Chapter 10. Navigating the Brown Water Navy (Pt. 1)

Ryan stood by the water cooler oblivious to the ordinance regarding smoking anywhere on the premises. A ban on workplace smoking was a new California state law then, and that included restaurants, bars, jails, and even police stations (Labor Code 6404.5). Cigar smoking had been taken from him by his cardiologist a few years before, but he still slipped in a smoke now and then. Depending on which was on hand, cigar or cigarette, he told himself that one to be less harmful than the other.

He hadn’t Mirandized Max for two reasons. One: because he Knew Max wasn’t guilty, and Two: because he hoped Max would talk more freely and give him something useful... something other than what he already knew about Nick.

Richards approached him waving the smoke aside and feining a cough, “What do you think?”

Blowing smoke in the precoscious cop's face, he said, “He didn’t do it.”

“What do you mean, he didn’t do it? Nick saw him coming up the hill on his motorcycle…”

Ryan was annoyed at Richards' unprofessional use of any suspects first name, especially Nick Baker's,“You mean, Mr. Baker?” 
He didn’t appreciate Richards and considered him a sloppy cop that was too ambitious... too enthralled with the power a badge gave him to be useful. Ryan knew the boy had a bone for Max and he also knew the kid had another bone in his pants for Mrs. Baker. “Tell me then, Sherlock, why would McGee give a ride to the woman he damned near killed? I'll tell you why, because he dropped her off in his taxi.” He glared at Richards now, “Don’t piss me off, Dan. The receptionist at the ER witnessed that much. Nick Baker's either a damned good liar or you're too easy to be a good cop.”

Ryan thought of himself as a good cop. He looked forward to starting each day with a good case to investigate.  Most cases were as simple as putting together a kindergarten picture puzzle. However, he hated cases where influence, old debts, and favors, filtered into his judgment… the pieces of the puzzle get smaller and it takes on three dimensions. He didn’t know what to do about Nick Baker because Nick Baker was a part of that kind of a puzzle. Now we had this Max McGee getting entangled in this mess with Richards pissing on the case files.

“Hey Ryan, Richards!" the Police Chief barked while storming out of his office, “Get in my office now. They stood before his desk as he popped a tape into the VCR, “What’s this shit Richards?”

Ryan grinned as he watched Richard’s squirm when the tape began rolling. On the screen was a dapper Dan Richards with a young reporter revving up for the interview that would launch her career. The nice-looking woman, right out of broadcast school, was standing with Dan Richards in front of a rundown apartment house, she reported, “Today we have breaking news on the arrest of a suspect in the brutal assault on a Riviera woman in her home. She is recovering in Cottage Hospital from a broken jaw and several other injuries. Officer Richards has some information on the details of the arrest.”

She held a mic to Richards' face. He stood smartly in full dress blues, chest decked out with ribbons, appearing as though he was a spokesman for the whole police department, “Yes, we have a suspect in custody.”

In her best reporter's voice, she asked, “And you were the arresting officer? Can you give us any details about the arrest and the name of the suspect in this brutal assault?” 

Ryan restrained himself from laughing at the thought that she was holding the mic at ready like she would wrap her lips around it if it gave her ratings.

She passed the mic back to Richards, whose persona became that of every TV cop since Sergeant Friday as he answered, “Yes I can. The suspect is a cab driver with a record that goes back several years. He gave up without a struggle at his apartment on lower Anacapa Street. They call it the Funk Zone. He's been charged with assault to commit deadly harm and is now held in isolation at County jail.”

“Can you give us his name?”

“The suspect's name is Max McGee.”

Ryan interrupted with a snort, "Funk Zone? Really, Dan, you're tryin' too hard to fuck her."

The Chief came from around his desk and poked Richards' chest with a forefinger, “We have a Public Service Officer for these things. The only reason I can think of that you'd do such an asinine thing is... shit, why beat around the bush? I know you're campaigning with the Mayor for my position when I retire.”

“Sir, I was asked on the crime scene if I knew anything about who did this. I figured what the fuck... ya know.”

“And you just happened to be wearing your dress uniform? Get out of my office.”

“But sir, I was only...”

“Now!” the Chief went back to sit at his desk. “Ryan, you stay.

Richards left with his tail between his legs and closed the door.

“That boy's a pain in the ass. What've you got so far?”

“McGee didn’t do it.”

“You got any leads on who did?  Was it her husband? Who is it... Nick Baker?” The Chief’s retirement was only a few months away. He had expected these kinds of political wrangling and now this case was taking on the appearance of a nasty tangle he had no energy for. He continued exasperated, “The Mayor has been calling every two or three hours.”

Ryan held back. He couldn’t let on that he might have to cover up for Harry Baker’s sake though he was almost sure he wouldn’t this time. It was hard not to think of himself as anything but dirty, covering for Nick Baker. Before this incident it was mostly misdemeanors... petty shit like DUI’s and possession but now he had to do some CYA ... just in case, so he said, “Nick Baker has an alibi at this time. We haven’t been able to substantiate it but you never know. Mrs. Baker has some pretty shady acquaintances we are also checking out.”