Two cops, paired as partners by their Captain, learn about each other's troubled past.
Captain Robert Romaine, chief of the detective division for the Philadelphia police department stood before a gathering of uniformed officers, plain-clothed detectives, and many civilian family members as he presided over a retirement ceremony.
“Ladies, gentlemen and fellow officers, it is with great pride that I award Detective Lieutenant Ralph Morrissey, the Distinguished Service Medal upon his retirement. He has dedicated 32 years of his life to upholding the laws of this city and state. And it is with sorrow that we say fond farewell to this gallant officer, for he will be missed….”
The Captain and several guest speakers droned on for another fifteen minutes before concluding the ceremony. Ralph and I had been partners since I made detective eight years ago and I would be the one to miss him most of all.
***
When I arrived at the station the next morning at my usual 8 A.M., the pretty police officer behind the admissions desk informed me that Captain Romaine wanted to see me. On the way to the captain’s office, I passed through mine to check on the case of domestic violence Ralph and I had been investigating.
The captains door stood in its normal open position and as I was about to knock, the Captain said, “Ah – there you are Sergeant, come in and have a seat.”
As I entered, there was a woman sitting in a chair at the right side of the captain’s desk with her back toward me. I instantly admired her light blond hair neatly braided into a bun and I wondered if it was natural. I went in and took a seat to the left of his desk.
The Captain began, “Kat, I would like you to meet Detective Sergeant Bruce Evens. Bruce, this is Detective McCormick. She has just transferred here from our South Philly Division.”
I turned in her direction, “Kat?” I questioned.
“Short for Katrina,” she said.
“In that case – hi Kat, pleased to meet you.” Observing her more closely, she was a true beauty with deep blue eyes one could drown in and a smooth flawless complexion of youth. If she wore any makeup, it was not apparent.
As she stared back at me, she said, “Likewise, Bruce.” Her eyes flashed fire and her full lips curled slightly with just a hint of a smile. I felt a fleeting twinge of recognition.
This did not go unnoticed by the Captain who asked, “You know each other?”
Katrina glared at me and said, “We do,” while I continued to ponder.
The Captain looked at her; then me, and back at her, “Is there a problem here?”
When neither of us spoke, the captain continued, “There better not be, because you’re going to be partners.”
“But Captain,” I began.
“But nothing – whatever petty problems you may have, I suggest you work them out. With Lieutenant Morrissey’s pending retirement, I had to find a qualified replacement partner for you. When Katrina volunteered to transfer, I willingly accepted her application. She comes to us with an exemplary record; and since there’s no one else available, she’s it. Now, you two get out of here and go to work.”
Kat and I left the captain’s office and went to mine, an office I had shared with Ralph for the past eight years. When we got there, she immediately asked, “Well, what have you been working on?”
I began by explaining our latest case, “Ralph and I responded to a call from police officers who reported that a man had severely beaten his wife, stolen their savings, and disappeared. That was three weeks ago and he’s still missing. While the wife was hospitalized, social services placed her two children in a foster home. Between the medical bills and her being unable to work, the woman is destitute and about to be evicted from their apartment.”
Kat commented, “Sounds familiar,” then asked, “what have you done to find the S.O.B?”
“An A.P.B. has gone out. Ralph and I have been canvassing all his locally known hangouts, that is, up until late Thursday. So far, no one has seen or heard from him, or at least won’t admit it.”
“Who’s the guy – and where does he work?”
“Did work,” I said, “His name’s Derek Frazier. He’s registered with the local plumber’s union. Their records showed him employed with the Royal Construction Company. They’re subcontracted to an outfit building the new apartment complex outside the north end of Philly. He failed to show on the morning after the beating and no one has seen him since.”
“What about his car?”
“We found his old Ford pickup parked in its assigned parking spot behind the apartment. It has since been towed to impound to prevent his making a midnight requisition.”
Kat remarked, “He sounds just like that deadbeat bastard stepfather of mine. Where do you keep the case files?”
I pointed to the filing cabinet, and said, “Recent cases are in the top drawer, take your pick.”
She went and opened the bottom drawer, pulled out a stack of folders and returned to her desk. I briefly wondered why she went to the dead files instead of the recent ones. While I made some phone call enquiries to social services and financial aid, she began perusing the files.
When I heard someone enter the office, I turned to find Ralph Morrissey standing just inside the door. “What the hell you doing here, Ralph? You’re supposed to be retired.”
“Just thought I’d stop by and see if you had anything new on the Frazier case.”
Kat sarcastically interjected, “Since when did you become so damn diligent and dedicated?”
“Who’s the cheeky broad?” Ralph asked.
“This is Kat – I mean Katrina McCormick,” I said, “She’s my new partner.” I thought Ralph was going to make one of his usual sexist wisecracks, but instead he stood there with a puzzled expression. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“McCormick,” his head tilted to the left and I knew he was searching for something. He repeated himself slowly, “McCormick – I should know that name.”
Kat threw a file folder the size of a suburban phone directory on the desk before him, and declared, “You’re damn right you should!”
Ralph picked up the file and I went to read over his shoulder. As I observed and read through the fourteen incident reports, all related to domestic violence, I began to remember the case. Fifteen years ago, I was a young rookie patrolman of twenty. I was partnered with Billy Boyce from the 13th precinct in South Philly at the time. I started recalling the incident – Billy had answered a call on one of those old call-box phones. He told me there had been a reported shooting three blocks away. We ran the distance, but by the time we got there, a crowd had already gathered around the squad car in front of the dwelling.
“Now I remember,” I said, “that was the first time I ran into you, Ralph.”
Ralph grunted, “As green a rookie that ever lived. You managed to get in the way of everything.” He then looked sideways at Katrina and asked, “You that dirty little snot-nosed kid of 12 that kept screaming ‘my daddy killed my mommy?’”
“That’s me,” she said, “except I was 15, and you never have found that miserable creature of a step-father.”
“No, we haven’t. Besides, the coroner determined the bullet had been self-inflicted.”
“You don’t believe that any more than I do?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Just look at the rest of these reports. My mother and I had been calling for help for months and none of you gallant boys in blue did anything until after he finally killed her. Was it your guilty conscience that kept bringing you back to the house.”
Ralph grunted again, “How do you know that? You were in juvenile custody.”
“I’ve read reports.”
Ralph admitted, “There was always something strange about your mom’s death and his sudden and complete disappearance that never set right with me.”
“Me either,” she agreed.
I asked, “Is that why you joined the force?”
“What better way to get a license to shoot that sleazy bastard – if I ever find him.”
Ralph and I just stood staring at her until she said, “Just kidding, guys, I’ve out grown that emotional vendetta.”
“I should hope so,” Ralph said, “I’d hate to see that cute backside of yours behind bars.”
Kat remarked, “I see you haven’t mellowed with age, you’re still the same crude dirty old man I remember.”
I asked, “You remember him that well after all these years?”
“Ralph here, came to the home several times to question me. I was an impressionable kid at the time and he impressed me as being curt, cantankerous, insensitive, impatient, demanding, and obnoxious.”
“That about sizes me up alright,” Ralph said, “but you missed my best traits; handsome, intelligent, willful, and tenacious.”
Kat quipped, “And modest.”
She looked at me and continued, “As for you, Detective Bruce Evens, I remember you as caring and sympathetic. When that brute, who eventually took you on as a partner ordered, ‘someone get that hysterical kid out of my sight,’ you picked me up and carried me outside.”
“I remember, you kicked, scratched, and screamed profanities – some of which I didn’t even know the meaning.”
“I assume you’ve added them to your vocabulary.”
“Them, as well as a few more.”
She continued, “Over the years since that day of my mother’s murder, I’ve come to realize how comforting you actually were.”
“I don’t see how. As I recall it, I had to practically sit on you in order to keep you in the car. It was nearly an hour before the social worker came and took you away.”
“What I remember,” she said, “was how you talked to me with the most soothing voice until I relaxed and stopped fighting you. I also remember the security I felt while you held me in your strong arms. That feeling of safety was something I had never felt before – or since.”
Ralph grumbled, “Typical teenage angst at work along with a vivid imagination.”
I ignored his comment and asked, “Did your step-father ever molest you?”
“No, but not for the lack of trying.”
“No wonder you fought so hard to get away.”
“Running away had always been my only means of escaping him.”
Ralph interrupted, “OK you two, you can reminisce and make nice-nice later, right now I’ve got something to show you.”
We both looked at him and she asked, “What’ve you got?”
“Last week I started going back into Frazier’s records, and from what I found out, it appears he didn’t exist before March 22, 1979.”
Kat blurted, “That’s only a week after Mom’s murder and Derek managed to disappear.”
I interjected, “A cross match of fingerprints should prove one way or the other.”
“Done, and done,” Ralph said, “They are one in the same person.”
“Then we had better widen the net and dispense his MO!”
Kat, matter-of-factly stated, “If he holds true to his chameleon form, we may never catch him.”
“Oh, we’ll catch him Kat, isn’t that why you transferred to this precinct?”
“Partly’” she said.
I hesitantly asked, “What’s the other part?”
“I already told you – the warm sense of compassionate security I once felt from you.”
“That does it!” Ralph said as he dropped the report papers on the desk, “Too much sloppy sentiment for me. I’m goin’ for coffee,” and he strode from the office.
After her disquieting remark, I walked over and sat behind my desk. She came and sat on the edge of it, “What’s the matter, Bruce – do I surprise you?”
“You might say that.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know how to explain it. It’s just that ever since my wife….”
“I know. I read the papers – and police reports. That drunk driver was out of jail even before you had the doctors remove her from life support. I was so sorry to hear about it.”
“Kat, why are you really here? You could’ve just as well worked on finding your step-father from down south.”
“That may be, Bruce, but you – are not down south.”
As I felt the flush of my face turning pink, I asked, “Are you coming on to me?”
She smiled and looked directly into my eyes and said, “You bet I am. Do you mind?”
I smiled back at her, “I don’t think so.”
“Good.”
“Do you always have to get the last word?”
“But of course.”