Detective Mike Saperstein rubbed his forehead feeling a headache developing. He looked around the parking lot of the motel. He glanced back up at the second floor at Sonny Daniels who was leaning against the railing watching the activity below. The young man looked more than a little irritated.
He turned back to the burnt out car in the parking lot and asked the patrolman, "What was the story again?"
"Witnesses say that the car was parked across the street with four people inside it. The driver started the car and drove into the parking lot. Three of the passengers hung out the windows of the car and started firing at the upstairs room in the corner. Then he car blew up," the patrolman answered.
"It just blew up," Detective Mike Saperstein repeated ... cars didn't just blow up.
"That's right. It blew up. As a result of the explosion it flipped over onto its side and started burning," the patrolman answered.
"No one saw anyone throw something at it," Mike said.
"No."
Mike looked at the car. From the damage it was pretty obvious that the explosive was under the car.
He asked, "Did anyone notice anything lying on the parking lot?"
"No."
Mike pointed up at Sonny and asked, "Did anyone see what he was doing?"
"The maid said that he must have just stepped out of his room right before the car headed over to the parking lot. He pushed her back into the room where she had been changing the linens right when the shots were fired. They were on the floor when the car exploded. His story agrees with hers," the patrolman answered.
"Is there anything to indicate that he had anything to do with the explosion?" Mike asked.
"He was pretty busy with the maid. By her own admission, she was hitting him until she realized that someone was firing a gun. She practically crawled under him when the explosion went off," the patrolman said.
"Damn," Mike said. He looked up at Sonny convinced the man knew exactly what had happened here.
"Do you think he had something to do with the explosion?"
Mike answered, "I'd bet my first born on it."
The patrolman smiled and said, "I know your son. I wouldn't take that bet out of fear that I might win."
"Very funny," Mike said.
"Yes, Sir."
Mike said, "I've got four more dead gang members. That brings us to sixteen gang members killed in the last ten days when you include the eight at the strip club, the one in front of the hospital, and the three inside the hospital. There are eleven still in the hospital as a result of the nails that tore them up."
"It isn't a very good time to be a gang member," the patrolman said.
"Have them take the car down to the lab once the folks from the fire department finish up their examination of the car. I'm not going to discover anything new by looking at it," Mike said.
"I'll tell them," the patrolman said. He walked off to complete the errand.
Mike went over to the stairs and climbed up to the second floor. He walked over to Sonny and looked down at the parking lot below without greeting the young man.
Sonny asked, "Are you here because someone fired some shots at me or because a car malfunctioned and blew up?"
Despite knowing that Sonny was pushing his buttons, Mike still couldn't help getting irritated. Sonny's continual comments about him not doing his job were getting under his skin. There were reasons why things were progressing so slowly but he wasn't at liberty to discuss them.
Angry, he said, "You know that cars don't blow up because they malfunction. Someone blew it up."
"I would like to shake the hand of the man who did that," Sonny said.
"There were four people in that car," Mike said.
"It couldn't have happened to a nicer bunch," Sonny said sarcastically. Seeing the expression of anger flash over Mike's face, Sonny added, "I'd like to remind you that at the time they blew up, they were shooting at me. There are bullet holes up here."
Knowing just how bad this neighborhood was, Mike asked, "What are you doing staying here?"
"I had to drop the courses that I was registered in for the summer because I missed too many classes. As soon as I dropped the courses I had to leave the dorm. Since one of you cops told me that I couldn't leave town until your investigation was finished I had to find a place to live so here I am," Sonny answered holding up his arms to embrace his surroundings.
"You can leave town now. In fact, please leave town," Mike said.
He had no idea who told him that he couldn't leave town.
"Not so fast," Sonny said. "There's still a matter of you catching the two gang members who shot me."
"Leave," Mike said. "Go home and never come back."
Sonny said, "Arrest the two men who shot me."
"We're trying," Mike said.
Sonny said, "I don't think so. It seems to me that you are spending more time trying to figure out why criminals are dying than in catching the folks you know are criminals."
"Every crime has to be investigated," Mike said.
"You never did answer my question," Sonny said. "Are you here because they fired some shots at me or because their car blew up?"
"Both," Mike answered.
Sonny said, "I don't believe you. Every question that I've been asked has been about the car blowing up. No one has said much of anything about the fact that they were shooting at me!"
"You want me to say something about the fact that they were shooting at you at the time they blew up? I'll say something. You're my number one suspect in their deaths," Mike shouted jabbing a finger at Sonny.
Sonny pointed down at the parking lot and said, "Look at that circus. There are ten police cars, four fire trucks, four ambulances, three news vans, and a bomb squad truck down there. The only reason the SWAT team isn't there is because they already left."
Sonny pointed up at the sky and said, "There are still two news helicopters hovering overhead."
"I can see that," Mike said. He didn't want to admit it, but Sonny was right about it being a circus down there.
"If that car hadn't blown up, I bet only one patrol car and the meat wagon would have come here to haul off my body," Sonny said.
"At least two cars would have come here," Mike replied. It sounded stupid even to him.
"Oh wow!" Sonny said, "A law abiding citizen gets killed and two police cars are sent. Four criminals die and that circus shows up."
"It is different," Mike said.
Sonny leaned over and demanded, "Tell me what the difference is."
"This is news; you getting killed is not," Mike said.
"You deserve everything these gangs are going to do to you," Sonny said shaking his head.
"What do you mean by that?" Mike asked.
Sonny answered, "One of these days, killing policemen will have stopped being news. That's the day they'll start driving by your house and shooting at you because you arrested one of them. You'll live in fear because it will be open season on policemen and their families. Los Angeles will burn."
"It is not going to turn into that," Mike said despite knowing better.
The sad fact of the matter was that news about an officer getting killed in the line of duty was now relegated to a small corner story on the front page of the newspaper. It was only a matter of time before it slipped off the front page for good.
Sonny shook his head and said, "Do you want to know the sad thing? You know that day is coming and you won't do anything about it."
"We can't do anything about it," Mike said.
Lawyers, citizen review boards, judges, juries, and politicians had bound their hands. It was getting more and more difficult to protect the public from violent criminals. Recent events had made it virtually impossible to arrest gang members.
"Do you really expect me to trust you to take care of me?" Sonny asked.
Mike said, "It is the law."
"It isn't the law," Donny said. "There is no law that says a woman who is getting raped has to lie there and take it until the police are notified and show up. There is no law that says a person has to stand around while getting shot at until the police come around to take care of the bad guys. There is no law that says a victim of assault can't protect themselves. There is no law that says a person has to allow a criminal make them a defenseless victim. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a fool."
Mike said, "There are limits to what a person can do in self-defense. You can't continue to beat an assailant who has been rendered unable to harm you. You can't shoot a man because he hit your car. You can't kill a man because he threatens you.
"This isn't the old west where you can march down the center of the street and draw pistols at high noon. You can't hang the horse thief from the nearest tree. Those days are long gone. Law and order has replaced vengeance and dueling."
Mike pointed to the parking lot and said, "You and your redneck friends have crossed over a line. Blowing up a car violates those limits. If I catch them doing something like that, I'll arrest them and they will face murder charges."
Sonny asked, "When are the crime scene guys coming up here to collect evidence?"
"What evidence?" Mike asked without thinking.
Pointing to a bullet hole overhead, Sonny answered, "As far as I know, the bullets that ended up in this building are evidence of a crime that was taking place. Aren't you going to collect them and do your ballistic tests on them to prove that those assholes were shooting at me?"
"They'll get up here," Mike said. He looked down at the parking lot and realized the crime scene investigators were packing up to leave. Angry, he said, "I'll be right back."
Sonny watched Mike head towards the stairs. The maid came up behind Sonny and said, "I'm sorry that I hit you."
Sonny turned to the young woman and smiled at her. He said, "If some galoot were to jump on me, I would hit him too. You did the right thing, little lady."
"Thank you for saving me," the woman said. Upon seeing the bullet hole in her cart she had realized just how close she had come to getting killed.
"The pleasure was all mine, ma'am," Sonny said tipping his hat.
"The detective doesn't like you very much."
Sonny said, "We just have a minor difference of opinion. He thinks it isn't very news worthy if I die. I think it is the most important news of my life."
"I think I agree with you," the woman said with a laugh. The laugh died when she looked at the cart. She said, "I didn't realize until the policeman was interviewing me that the guns were aimed up here."
"I'll tell you a little secret on how to survive a gunfight. It doesn't matter which way they are aiming the guns; when they start shooting it is time for you get down and pretend to be real small. If they are shooting at you and you have a gun, shoot back," Sonny said.
"I'll try to remember that," the woman said. She looked down at her hands and said, "My hands are still shaking."
"I could use a whiskey with a beer chaser about now. How about we go across the street and get you a rum and coke, as soon as the police leave?" Sonny asked.
Knowing the kind of crowd that frequented that bar, the woman said, "You might not want to go to that bar."
"Do you go there?" Sonny asked.
"Yes."
Sonny asked, "Do you like it?"
"Yes."
"Then we'll go to where you are comfortable. I'll buy you a rum and coke to help calm your nerves," Sonny said.
"I'd rather have a malt liquor," the woman said.
Pointing at her with his first two fingers held together, Sonny said, "What the lady wants, the lady gets."
"My name is Shaneka."
"Pleased to meet you Shaneka, I'm Sonny." He tipped his hat to her.
Considering that was the second time that he had tipped his hat to her, Shaneka said, "You aren't from around here."
"That's right. I'm from Montana," Sonny said.
"Are there many blacks in Montana?" Shaneka asked.
Sonny rubbed his chin for a second and then said, "I can't recall ever seeing one. Why?"
"I was just curious," Shaneka said.
A man came up the stairs carrying a toolbox. He looked at Shaneka and Sonny as if surprised to find them there. Gruffly, he said, "You have to leave. This is a crime scene."
Sonny extended an arm and said, "How about we head across the street for that drink now?"
"Sure," Shaneka said looking at him. It took her a moment to realize what his gesture meant. She took his arm. "No one has ever offered me his arm before. You sure have strange manners."
"No ma'am. I just have manners. There's nothing strange about acting like a gentleman," Sonny said.
Feeling like a lady instead of a maid, Shaneka said, "I kind of like it."
"That's the way it should be, ma'am," Sonny said. The pair descended the stairs together.
Mike came running over when they reached the parking lot and asked, "Where are you going?"
"We're going across the street to have a drink," Sonny said. He patted Shaneka's hand that was resting on his arm.
"I told you to stay there," Mike said.
Sonny replied, "That other fellow told us we were in the middle of crime scene and that we had to leave. I wish you guys would make up your mind."
"Ugh, get out of here," Mike said. "I know how to find you. I'll just wait for the next gang member to die."
As Sonny and Shaneka walked off, Sonny asked, "Are you afraid of bugs?"
"No," Shaneka answered. "Why?"
"I was just curious," Sonny said.
The pair walked in the bar and went over to the counter. While they were pulling out the bar stools to take a seat, the bartender came over and said, "Hello, Shaneka."
"Hello, Jamal," Shaneka said.
Looking over at Sonny, Jamal said, "Your boyfriend is a little pale, isn't he?"
Sonny extended a hand across the bar and said, "Howdy. My name is Sonny Daniels."
The bartender looked at the hand for a second, and then shook it. He couldn't remember a time when anyone introduced himself across the bar like that.
He said, "I'm Jamal Whickers."
"Pleased to meet you, Jamal," Sonny said. He set his hat back further on his head.
"What can I get for you?" Jamal asked.
"The lady would like a malt liquor. I assume that you know her favorite brand. I'll take a whiskey and a beer chaser."
"What kind of beer? We don't have any imports."
"It doesn't matter to me," Sonny said. "A beer is a beer particularly when it follows a whiskey."
Jamal set the drinks out on the bar. He said, "I think you are the first white customer we've ever had in this bar. You are definitely the first man to ask for a whiskey with a beer chaser."
Sonny looked around the bar recognizing members of a local gang by their clothes. He said, "First experiences should be cherished."
"I don't know about that. Today was the first time I've ever been shot at," Shaneka said.
Sonny raised his whiskey glass and said, "Here is to never getting shot at again."
"I'll drink to that," Shaneka said raising her can of malt liquor.
Jamal looked at Sonny a little closer and said, "I know you. You're that guy who is at war with the gang on the other side of town."
Sonny drank down the shot of whiskey, and shook his head in reaction to the whiskey burning its way down his throat. He took a drink of his beer.
He exhaled loudly and then said, "I'm not at war with the gang, although quite a few people seem to think otherwise. I just want the two guys who shot me to go to jail."
Jamal laughed and said, "That will never happen."
"Yes, it will," Sonny said in a dead serious voice. He looked Jamal in the eye and said, "They will go to jail."
"You're serious, aren't you?" Jamal asked.
He looked at the back of the bar where a number of people were listening to the conversation.
"I'm as serious as a heart attack." Sonny glanced over at the television playing in the corner of the bar.
Looking at Sonny as if he were a rattlesnake, Jamal said, "Things don't work like that around here."
"They do now," Sonny said with a smile.
He raised his beer and then took a drink of it.
He pointed at the television and said, "Look at that crack house burn. I'll bet that gang just lost a bunch of money, and maybe even few more members."