Passion In James County IV: Hell Hath No Fury
Chapter 9
"We had a vandalism incident in the Heights last night," Sergeant Dawson told the morning watch shift officers at roll call. "The lieutenant asked me to put extra patrols in that area for a while. You guys in the units assigned to that sector keep your eyes open for anyone up there who doesn't belong. You see something that doesn't look right, you check it out, you got that?"
The officers in the room all nodded. Tim Jackman wondered what he'd be doing. His partner had the night off and he assumed he would be assigned a temporary partner.
"Jackman," Sergeant Dawson said, "Since Dumont's off tonight, you'll be in an X-car in the East Sector. I want you to stay in the Heights. Jones, you and Mackey are assigned to regular patrol in the East Sector. If Jackman gets anything in the Heights, you get your asses up there five minutes before he calls for back up, you guys got that?"
"Got it, Sarge," the Jones and Mackey replied in unison.
Tim was happy with the assignment. "X-cars" were cars assigned to sectors in addition to the units normally assigned to patrol that sector. Usually only experienced officers were assigned to them. The fact that the sergeant had given him this assignment was a real honor.
"I'm going to spend as much time in that area as I can," the sergeant continued. "I don't think the asshole is going to be back, but if he shows up, we might have a chance of catching him if we're on the ball."
"Hey, sarge," Mackey called. "How's my partner supposed to get any sleep if you're hanging around all night?" Mackey's comment drew a chorus of laughs from the rest of the officers on night shift.
"Shut up, Mackey," his partner responded.
A half hour later Tim, who had radio call sign X-25, was cruising down a dark street in the residential area known at the Heights. He passed both the sergeant and the other officers several times, but nothing seemed to be out of order.
"There's Heidi's house," he thought as he cruised by the home of his former lover. "I wonder how she is? I wonder if she thinks about me as much as I think about her." A wry smile formed on his face. "Hell, I'm kidding myself. She probably doesn't think about me at all."
He saw a car was parked next to the curb, just down the street from the Tate house. Was there someone in it? He studied the car carefully while his patrol car moved by slowly. He couldn't see anyone in the vehicle. It wasn't unusual or illegal for cars to be left parked at the curb overnight in this area, so he kept going, but he did pick up the radio mike.
"X-ray twenty-five to Sam five," he said.
"Sam five," the sergeant replied.
"I have a parked car over here on Thomas," Tim said. "It appears to be empty. Did you see it when you rolled through there?"
"10-4, X-ray twenty-five," Sergeant Dawson replied. "I saw it when I went by there about fifteen minutes ago."
"Adam forty to Sam five and X-ray twenty-five," the radio said as patrolman Mackey joined the conversation. "We spotted it, too. You want us to check it out, sarge?"
"Negative," the sergeant replied. "It probably belongs to someone who lives up there."
Tim continued patrolling. The area he was assigned to was normally was part of a larger patrol sector that was one of the slowest in town for police activity. The officers in the sector car, Adam-forty, were assigned several calls, none of which turned out to be much, but no work came his way.
An hour or so later, Sergeant Dawson advised dispatch he was headed back to the station. Tim continued his patrol in the Heights. He liked police work, but he'd tire of quickly if every night was like this one.
About three a.m., he was approaching the street where Heidi lived again. The car he'd seen earlier was still there, but something seemed different about it. He strained to see. Was there someone in it? Then the car's lights came on and it began moving. He pressed down on the accelerator and the cruiser surged forward. The car moved away from the curb and started down the street, accelerating slowly.
The situation looked suspicious to Tim. He followed the car a while, getting close enough to read the license plate. The light from the streetlights let him see the driver, who was acting nervous, glancing in the rear-view mirror. He decided it wouldn't hurt to find out what was going on. It was probably someone who worked some weird shift going to work, but it could be the vandal.
He picked up the radio mike. "X-ray twenty-five to dispatch," he said into the microphone. "I'm stopping a dark colored Olds Cutlass, registration William-William-George, seven-four-three, at the intersection of Johnson and Eighteenth."
"Copy, X-ray twenty-five," the dispatcher replied, "You're stopping a dark colored Olds Cutlass, William-William-George, seven-four-three, at the intersection of Johnson and Eighteenth."
"Adam-forty to dispatch," the radio said. "We'll back up X-ray twenty-five. ETA five."
"Copy, Adam-forty," the dispatcher said.
"Sam five to dispatch," Sergeant Dawson joined in. "I'm rolling toward Johnson and Eighteenth. ETA five to seven."
"Whoever's in that car's going to get quite a reception," Tim thought. "Let's light him up and see what happens." He reached down and flipped the switches on the cruiser's control panel that turned on the light bar on the cruiser's roof. The light bar came to life, bathing the car ahead of him in brilliant flashing blue light. Immediately, the car's brake lights came on, it swerved to the curb, and stopped.
Tim pulled in behind the car, placing the cruiser exactly the way he'd been taught at the academy. He flipped a switch and the blue lights stopped flashing. Bright white light lit up the car ahead of him as he switched on the floodlights called "takedown lights" located in the light bar on the cruiser's roof. Blue and yellow lights and a yellow directional arrow flashed to the rear of the cruiser.
Tim debated whether he should wait for backup to arrive, then decided not to. He punched the registration number of the car into the computer then he took his heavy aluminum flashlight and got out of his cruiser. Holding the light in his left hand, he approached the car. He unsnapped the strap on his holster and kept his hand on the butt of the 9mm automatic pistol on his belt as he moved closer to the vehicle he'd stopped.
He shined his flashlight in the car's window. A portly, balding man, looking very frightened, sat in the car, staring up at him. The window of the car glided down. "Is...is something wrong, officer?" the man asked.
"May I have your registration, license, and insurance card, please, sir?" Tim asked. He kept his hand on his gun. At the academy they taught him that most killers don't look like killers, and that carelessness is what gets cops killed. Just because this guy looked like an accountant didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. He watched the driver fumble for the papers he had asked for, then the man handed them out the window.
"Thank you, sir," Tim said, taking the papers. "Please remain in your vehicle. I'll be right back."
He walked back to his cruiser, got inside, and punched the information from the man's license and registration into the cruiser's computer terminal. As he did, he saw headlights approaching from the other direction.
A car slid to a stop at the curb opposite Tim's car, and blue lights began flashing on the roof. "Adam forty, we're off with X-ray twenty-five," the radio said.
Another car slid to a halt behind Tim. "Sam five off with X-ray twenty-five and Adam forty," Sergeant Dawson said.
Tim got out of his car just as Sergeant Dawson reached it. The other two officers stood across the street, next to their cruiser, watching carefully.
"What have you got, Jackman?" Dawson asked.
"Registration and license check out," Tim said. "Guy's name is Milton Bingham. He lives at 124 West Ferndale. Car's registered to him. No motor vehicle or criminal record. Nothing in CAD, either." CAD was the department's "computer aided dispatch" system that kept track of additional information on individuals.
"That address is clear on the other side of town," Sergeant Dawson said. "What the fuck is a guy who lives over there doing in this neighborhood this time of night?"
"Why don't we ask him?" Tim said.
He and Sergeant Dawson approached the car.
