Back Alley Cop Page 8
But it didn’t happen.
When days went by, and there was still no word from Eddie, Adam was sure something must have happened to him, and he was getting desperate. He was almost to the point of doing the one thing he’d been told not to do, and that was call the precinct. And then the phone rang. He jumped on it as if it were a lifeline, hoping it was Eddie.
“Eddie?” he shouted into the mouthpiece.
“Wagner Funeral Home, two-thirty.”
“Oh, God!” Adam whispered, a flood of fear squeezing his gut, telling him that Eddie was dead. “Who is this?” he asked, but the line went dead.
He quickly looked down at his watch, and learned that he had exactly forty-five minutes to get to a funeral home he’d never heard of, and didn’t even know existed.
With nerves of steel, he slammed into his car, got out his map, and careened around corners, ran stop signs, traffic lights, and almost hit a kid on a skateboard, but he finally made it.
Now, as he got out of his car and hurried along the parking lot that led up to the funeral home, he noticed a sign with the name of the recently deceased whose funeral was taking place now. He was surprised to recognize the name of one of Eddie’s police buddies that the TV news said was killed in the line of duty. He was relieved it wasn’t Eddie. Why, then had he been told to come here? As he looked around, he saw beyond the building a beautifully manicured acreage of different styles of tombstones, tall, beautiful trees, occasional benches, and wide paths that meandered around the grounds.
It was a pleasing restful sight until Adam happened to see a man who looked as if he were homeless leaning against a tree, present, but not a part of the crowd that milled around the open gravesite. He was dressed in an army jacket. His dark hair was oily and unkempt, as if he hadn’t known the pleasure of a shower or a comb since his early days in the war. His once green army jacket was now faded to a light gray, and badly torn and tattered. He wore an old pair of denim blue jeans that were shredded at the knees and hung at least three inches above his ankles, exposing scuffed, worn shoes, but no socks. His eyes were filled with loneliness and despair, as if he had realized a lack of purpose in his life. His long, slender nose was set above a mouth full of white even teeth, and little lines at the corners of his mouth gave his face the look of someone who used to smile often, but the firm set of his square jaw revealed a portrait of a man who knew only failure.
As Adam glanced around the grounds at the funeral in progress he knew at once that it must be for the cop that had been killed. He also noticed people standing behind a line of folding chairs where the family was sitting before an open grave. There was music, a ceremony, and a uniformed cop presenting a folded up flag to the man’s family. All together there were urban types, city slickers, and teenagers. Gray heads, permed heads, balding heads, old heads, young heads, and heads that wagged as they spoke. As each of their gazes wandered around curiously, they seemed to skip over the socially unacceptable figure of the man leaning against the tree. Someone who wanted to pay his respects to the dead, but didn’t dare count himself among those of respectability, those who called themselves his family and friends.
Adam paced around for a time, constantly glancing at his watch until the service was finally over. He didn’t know why he was here since no one had approached him, so he turned to leave. As he passed the homeless man he heard an utterance that was a gravelly mix of whiskey roughness and educated brogue.
“Did you say something?”
“I said, got a buck to spare, man?”
He surprised Adam by speaking with a gentleness Adam hadn’t expected, so he reached into his pocket, pulled out a twenty, and gave it to him.
The man looked down at the bill, and said, “Looks new. Where’d you get it…Sweden?”
The man’s mention of Sweden surprised Adam, so he kept watching him even after the man turned and walked away. And then all at once it hit him like a bolt of lightning, and he began running after him.
“Eddie,” he called out, but got no response. “Eddie!” When he got no response he yelled out again, louder this time, “Eddie? Eddie Scarlett?” When he still got no response the man began walking faster until Adam ran up, pulled at his arm, forcing him around. “Eddie, it’s Adam. I know it’s you…”
“Get lost,” the man said as he pulled his arm away, immediately turned the corner, and crossed the street. And then without a moment’s hesitation Adam ran up to him again. “Eddie, talk to me,” he said just before several shots rang out. Quick as lightning, the man grabbed Adam, pushed him down to the ground and covered him with his body. After the gunplay was over, Adam noticed that Eddie’s body felt like dead weight, and didn’t move. And then suddenly he heard a lot of running and shouting happening around them until the police finally got there, lifted Eddie’s limp body, and pulled Adam from beneath him.
“Oh my God,” Adam shouted. “He’s not moving!”
* * * *
Later at the hospital, Adam was pacing worriedly up and down the waiting room until the doctor, just out of OR, came in. He watched as the doctor looked around at the few people in there, and then called out, “Adam Dunbar?”
Adam raced up to him, anxious for the news of Eddie’s condition. “Yes, yes, what’s the news? Is he…oh, God, is he…”
“He’s going to be all right, Mr. Dunbar, but I’m afraid his condition is very serious, and he’s going to need complete bedrest. I’m afraid that means no visitors.”
“But I’m a friend, a good friend. Someone who’s very interested in seeing him well and whole. He very probably saved my life. I think he would want to see me, Doctor.”
“Mr. Dunbar, the best thing you can do right now is go home, get some rest yourself, and in a few days, if Mr. Scarlett does as well as expected, then he’ll be able to have visitors.”
“A few days?” Adam said, grabbing the doctor. “You don’t understand, Doctor. As soon as the shooting started he pushed me to the ground. If it hadn’t been for him I’d be the one…oh, God, this whole thing is my fault. I…God, I’m so stupid. I practically pointed him out to those bastards who did this. He was in disguise, and could have gotten away clean except for me.
Hey, there he is! There’s the one you want. Kill him, kill the damned bastard!”
Adam began crying. “Oh, God, how can one man be so stupid?” Adam looked up at the doctor, and struggled with him as he tried to pull away. “And now, if he dies it’ll be my fault. I might as well have been the one that pulled that trigger. I’m just as much to blame.”
The doctor was finally able to pull himself out of Adam’s grasp, and led him to a chair. “Mr. Dunbar, please. You’ve got to get hold of yourself.” Just then he saw a nurse coming down the hall. “Nurse!” he called out. “Please take Mr. Dunbar to an empty room and see that he gets a light sedative. He’s very overwrought, and needs some rest.”
“Of course, Doctor.”
* * * *
The next morning, Adam opened his eyes to a strange room, lunged upward, and looked around. The last memory he had was being in the hospital where Eddie—oh, God, Eddie. He gave his watch a quick glance, looked around at the daylight coming through the windows, and wondered where he was, and what had happened to the doctor, and to Eddie.
Not wasting a minute, he jumped up, and quickly ran out of the room to a vacant corridor where he saw a shining floor with bright sunshine making a path along the clean floor as it peeped through windows. Hushed voices seemed to be coming from somewhere even though the halls were vacant. He knew he would never be given access to Eddie’s room if he was seen, so, he crept around like a burglar looking for the nurses’ station, and then waited for her to leave. From there he crept up to the reception counter, and was just about to begin fumbling through her papers when his eyes caught a computerized list of patients on the wall, along with their room numbers. In that moment he thanked God that the hospital had computerized their records when so many of them were s
till behind the times. Among the LED lighted names it was easy to find the one he was looking for.
After carefully checking the room numbers he found it, and ran until he stood quietly outside the room with his back plastered to the wall, looking up and down the corridor, afraid that some doctor or nurse would come along and tell him to get out. Finally, he turned, looked through the glass panel in the door and saw Eddie hooked up to tubes, his chest covered with bandages.
His eyes widened, because at that moment the truth crashed down upon him, reminding him of the tiny, unfamiliar voice that said nothing except the name of the funeral home, knowing that Adam would show up and single Eddie out for them so they could close in. Stupid fool that he was, he had played right into their hands.
Now, with one more look up and down the corridor, he pushed on the door, and opened it. Inside, the room was full of the smell of antiseptic, alcohol, and the god-awful smell of adhesive, and lots of it. Enough to hold a brave, vigilante giant like Eddie together. He walked up to the bed slowly, watching for any little movement Eddie might make, and stood looking down at him. Finally, he pulled a chair up beside the bed, sat down, leaned close to Eddie, and whispered his important message.
“Eddie, if you can hear me, I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.” While he was saying it, he looked closely at the face he’d come to love—and his eyes opened.
Adam gasped. Eddie’s eyes held a myriad of emotions. Everything from pain to surprise to see Adam there.
“Don’t talk,” Adam said. “I’m not even supposed to be here, but I had to apologize. To let you know that I am so sorry that this happened. I know it’s my fault, and if—when you get out of here you never want to see me again, I’ll understand. But I just wanted you to know that…I love you, Eddie, and had I known…if I would’ve had any idea…I wouldn’t have…” Adam finished on a sob, and quickly turned his head away so Eddie couldn’t see the unmanly tears he was shedding.
“You love me?” Eddie managed a gravelly whisper.
Adam turned back. “Not that it matters much now, but yes.”
While Adam was looking at him, Eddie slowly closed his eyes, and Adam suddenly became afraid. Was he dead? “Eddie? Eddie!” he kept saying with no response. He was about to call a nurse when he heard a voice.
“He’s still alive, he’s just weak.”
Adam turned quickly and saw the doctor. “I know you’re upset with me, but I had to…”
“Even at the expense of his life? You do a lot of that, don’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, Mr…”
“Adam Dunbar.”
“I mean, Mr. Dunbar that you exposed him to his enemies, and now, at the possible expense of his life, you have to make yourself feel better by coming in here to apologize to him.”
Adam lowered his head. “You’re right. Again, I’m sorry. It seems I’m always apologizing here lately. I can’t seem to do anything right.” He looked up at the doctor. “All I know is, I care about this man. I’d rather die myself than…”
Just then he felt a touch on his fingers and looked down. Tears began to fall again when he saw that Eddie’s fingers were lightly touching his, and when he looked into his eyes, incredibly he knew what Eddie was thinking.
It’s okay, his eyes said. It’s okay.
* * * *
In the weeks that followed, Eddie got steadily better, and Adam spent every day at the hospital with him. They talked, laughed, joked around, played games, ate together, and even watched TV. And then the day came when Adam decided to ask Eddie the question that almost put Eddie back on the critical list.
“Eddie, how about giving it up?”
“Giving it up?”
“You know. Undercover work. There must be a million jobs at the NYPD that you could probably do. Does it have to be something so dangerous?”
Eddie couldn’t believe what he was hearing and stared at Adam for several seconds, feeling the anger slowly crawling up his spine and into his brain. “You…how could you ask me a question like that?”
“Like what?”
“Don’t you get it yet, Adam? The work I do is important to me. It’s like a friggin’ calling, a mission, for God’s sake.”
“I know that, but I die a thousand deaths knowing you’re out there putting your life in danger.”
Eddie closed his eyes, trying to keep his anger in check, and then opened them and looked hard at Adam. “Adam, I know what I’m doing. I’m a professional undercover cop, and I’ve been trained for what I do.”
“Trained to go in there as someone else…tricking them into believing one thing when you’re actually something else? That seems…I don’t know…unfair somehow. You’re…”
“Are you out of your mind?” Eddie growled.
“But it’s not honest, is it?”
“Not honest?” Eddie sputtered, not believing what he was hearing.
“It’s…I don’t know, dirty somehow.”
“Dirty? Did I hear you say dirty? My God, Adam, clearly you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. This is war we’re talking about. Soldiers, undercover cops, firefighters, anyone that puts their life in danger, they’re doing it for you. To keep you safe. And if being an undercover cop means fighting dirty, passing myself off as someone I’m not, I don’t give a fuck. I’m there to bring them down. Adam, they deal drugs to kids, for God’s sake. Teenagers are killed every three hours, they pimp, and they kill for no better reason than they think it’s fuckin’ cool. These creeps despise authority, they kill for the sheer pleasure of it, they perform hate crimes on women, old people, and gays. Do you think that’s honest? Hell, they fight dirtier than I do, Adam. I’m just better at it than they are, if I’m lucky. Believe me, if I have to fight dirty to save some teenager’s life, or so the citizens of this city can walk the streets in safety, I will. And the idea of ever asking me to give it up is absolutely insane. I won’t do it. I won’t do it for you, for me, for Mom’s apple pie, or for God Almighty. Why? Because it’s something I believe in, and it’s a job that has to be done. All these men that I mentioned have been trained to die if necessary. The day I fell on you, hell, I didn’t stumble, I did it to save your fuckin’ life. All men of war have been trained that way. That’s why you sometimes hear about these soldiers in foreign countries that will even blow themselves up to get just one lousy enemy soldier. If I have to fight dirty, then I’ll fight dirty. I’ll get those damned bastard’s even if it’s with the last breath in my body. So the answer is no, Adam. Hell, no.”
*
Adam stared at Eddie.
In Adam Dunbar’s eyes Eddie Scarlett had just grown ten more inches, and he was already a giant of a man who stood taller than the tallest hero he’d ever known, or read about. He looked down at himself, at his designer clothes, his perfectly styled hair, and his perfectly manicured nails, and knew that wasn’t the mark of a man. He then looked at Eddie, and knew that out of the two of them Eddie was the real man. Eddie, with his craggy face, his hair that looked as if it had been cut with a sharp rock, and knew that if he had to, he didn’t mind taking a bullet, rolling around in the dirt, or even putting his very life in danger by pretending to be the worst kind of bastard to ever draw a breath if it meant it would get him close enough to the enemy to bring him down. He inconvenienced himself time and again, lost sleep, didn’t eat regular, and Adam knew, without a doubt, that this job would someday kill him.
Did that matter to Eddie? Not in the least.
“I’m sorry,” Adam whispered. “There, I’ve said it again. Made another mistake again. I don’t know how I manage to stick my foot in my mouth time after time. Stupid, I guess.”
“You’re not stupid, Adam, you’re…I don’t know…young, I guess. Naïve. You just haven’t found a cause in your life that you’d be willing to lay down your life for.”
Adam looked at Eddie. “Does it have to be a cause?”
“Yes i
t does. You die for causes, you live for people. And that’s what I’m going to try and do for you, Adam. Live. You see,” Eddie pointed upward, “He has a timetable, and if it’s my time to go, I’ll go. It might be as dramatic as being blown up by a bomb, being burned up in a house fire, or as boring as being hit by a bus, but whatever it is, it’s up to Him. Not some mob boss, or trigger-happy sniper. Him.”
Eddie’s speech had certainly given young, naïve Adam something to think about.
* * * *
As soon as Eddie was given a release by his doctor, Eddie and Adam stopped by KingStar to visit, of all people, Adam’s twin sister Ada. As soon as she saw Eddie and Adam walk into her office, she smiled, reached out, and caught Eddie’s hand in hers, and said, “Oh, Mr. Scarlett, I will never be able to thank you enough for what you did for us. What went on here was absolutely unbelievable. I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate the work you did here. To think that Mr. McAlister was this awful Lady Killer that’s been…well, I’m just shocked.”
“It’s okay, Ms. Dunbar.”
“And when I found out that Vinnie Torrio was also a part of this, and it was all just a well-planned…what do they call it? Sting? Anyway, you and Mr. Torrio did such a wonderful job. No one suspected what you were here for. Not even me. This was all planned when I was on vacation, of course, so I…when I found out, I was absolutely floored.”
Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm, and her continuous pumping of his hand. “Really, Ms. Dunbar, you don’t owe me anything. I was just doing my job. I’m just happy that it all turned out the way it did.”
“Well, sir, you are welcome here anytime, and I have to admit that I have a whole new respect for the NYPD. You really are doing some wonderful things over there.”
“I really wish you’d call me Eddie.”
“Of course,” she replied, and looked over at Adam. “Oh, hello, Adam. I guess I missed you in all the excitement of seeing Mr. Scarlett. Well, little brother, may I assume that you’re here to work?”
“Hear that?” he said to Eddie. “Just because she’s a whole two minutes older than me, she thinks that gives her the right to call me ‘little brother’.” He looked back at her. “No, I’m not here to work, Ada, you know that. I…uh, we just came by to give you some news.”