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There's always one policeman that you
can't buy. In every town, city, country, or even village there is the one
who got the idea that truth and justice made the world go 'round and
without it there would be complete anarchy. These men and women
dedicate their lives to protecting the helpless and innocent from the
boogieman.
Today, I'm the boogieman.
Officer Anthony “Call Me Tony”
Lopez is sitting in my waiting room. I have yet to replace Ira after
her...early termination, so I'm letting Tony settle for a few minutes
before speaking to him. A client that works for the police has been
informing me that for the last eight months Officer Lopez has had
what he described as “a wild hair up his ass” for me and wanted
to take me down. Not for the glory or recognition.
But because it is what's right.
I've managed to avoid Officer Lopez all
this time due to the fact that I have been very busy. Over the past
few months my clients have increased by 65%. It has been difficult
keeping up with all the business I've been getting. Difficult. Not
impossible.
Nothing is impossible.
At 9am I walk to my door and let
Officer Lopez in. He removes his hat and waits to be seated. They do
not make men like this anymore. He's old fashioned, but it is an act.
There is a reason it is called old and a fashion. We shake hands,
decent grip not too firm and not too soft, he sits down, places his
hat on his lap, and looks around my office before bringing his
attention back to me. Every move he makes is measured and with the intent to illicit a reaction.
“Good morning, Officer Lopez” I
say. “Sorry for the mess. I haven't had much help since...”
“Oh, no” he says holding his hands
up and shaking his head. “I was looking around because I like to
know my surroundings. That's all. I wasn't making any sort of
commentary on how you keep your office. Sorry if I made you feel that
way.”
This guy is good. Very apologetic.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask
him. “Coffee? Water? Something stronger?”
“I don't want to trouble you” he
says. “I just have a few questions...” he trails off as he pulls
out a notepad and pats himself for a pen. I pull out a brand new box
and slide it towards him as I sit. “Thanks. I'd forget my head if
it wasn't attached.”
“I know the feeling” I tell him.
What am I doing? I don't know that feeling at all. “I'll help you out in
any way I can.”
“That's nice to hear” Tony says.
“Now, Mr. Tatum...”
“Call me Cyrus.”
“Cool name” he says. “My name's
Anthony but everyone calls me Tony. I mean, I ask them to, but
still. It's not as cool of a name as Cyrus. What does it mean?”
“It is a Greek translated version of
the name Kūrush. It means 'far sighted.'” I am giving up more
information than what is being asked of me. I'm being affected by
him. He's really good.
“Cool” he says. “Now, as you may
know there has been an investigation launched into the murder of your
former secretary Ira...”
“Murder?” I ask. He stops writing.
“I believe it was ruled an accident. Her ex husband was paid quite
handsomely by the manufacturers of the elevator that she perished in
if I remember correctly.” And I made sure that every penny went to
a battered women shelter.
“Sorry” Tony sighs. “I didn't
mean to say murder.”
“Yes, you did” I say. Tony puts his
notepad and pen on the desk and looks up at me. “I know what you
are trying to do. I even know why. But trust me, this is a path that
you do not want to walk down.”
“Or what?” he asks. “Another
'accident'?”
“There are no accidents” I tell
him. “Just situations that work in my favor better than others.”
“Is this what you do all day, Cyrus?”
he says with a smile. “You just sit there behind your desk, tell
people how to run their lives, and collect their money?”
“No” I say. “Sometimes I meet
them at their homes.” He is slowly starting to crack. I've gone
over Tony's history. Grew up in Echo Park. Family consists mostly of
gang members. He was the one that got straight A's and decided to
dedicate his life to law enforcement. Had even put a few of his
cousins and even his own brother behind bars. Graduated near the top
of his class. No wife. No children. His existence is this job.
“Cyrus, you're not as innocent as you
pretend” he tells me. “I've done quite a lot of research into
your past. Is it true that your father committed suicide when you
were a child?”
“Yes.”
“And your brother?” he continues.
“He served time for assaulting you?”
“Yes.”
“And your former fiancee?”
“Margaret.”
“She told me that you a rather
difficult person to deal with.” Tony waits for a response from me.
“Okay. Sore spot. And your mother?”
“Tread lightly.”
“Excuse me?”
“Tread. Lightly.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” he
asks.
I just smile at him. He knows that
there is a history with my mother but is not sure what it could be.
No one is sure but me. He knows about as much about me as anyone with
Google knows. Any information he could have received from Maggie or
even my brother could not damage me. But I have someone coming here
soon. Maybe they can help me out.
The phone rings.
“You're early” I say. Tony just
watches me, surprised that I would answer the phone at a time like
this. “Of course. You have any trouble parking? Good. Come right
up. Yes. That's the suite. See you in a minute.”
“Is this a bad time?” Tony asks me
as he prepares to stand and leave.
“Not at all” I tell him. “Just
some interviews for a new assistant.”
“I can leave--”
“You will stay” I tell him. “You
will stay because you have no choice.”
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