"That's a pretty desperate bluff, CH. So, now I assume I look over at the roof, and while distracted you rush and disarm me in some hope that you'll triumph in the outcome?"
"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Tannehill responded, apparently unconcerned that his gambit had failed and veered ever closer to infinite darkness.
Murphy snickered. "What's next, you'll yell 'lookout behind you!' and try the same asinine maneuver?"
"Nah," Tannehill responded, "you'll find out what's behind you soon enough."
As Tannehill spoke these words, Murphy took an unconscious step backward. He felt something hard press against the back of his skull.
"Probably better that you didn't look," Tannehill pondered, "Spinoza may have gotten spooked and blown half your face off before you were able to turn around."
"If you'd be so kind as to hand your weapon to Tannehill, we can dispense with any issues regarding my nervous trigger finger," the disembodied voice announced behind Murphy. Murphy paused, weighing his options, wondering if it were better to inflict some final damage to Tannehill before feeling searing heat in the back of his head and experiencing extended silence. He then considered his chances with the courts in Capital City and thought better of it. He pointed the weapon toward the ground and yielded its stewardship to Tannehill.
Tannehill fished for some change in his pocket with his free hand and passed it to Vera. ¨Go call the local precinct and ask to speak with Detective Novak. Tell him what's happened and who's involved. Make sure to tell him that the scene is secured and that I've temporarily taken Lieutenant Murphy into custody until he arrives."
Vera turned to leave but immediately wheeled on her heels, "can I bring the gu...?"
"No." With that response, she wheeled back in her initial direction to make her appointed phone call.
Tannehill disassembled the machine gun, removing the magazine and the firing pin, and tossed the firearm over the railing of the walkway. It clattered loudly in protest before resting in silence.
Tannehill patted Murphy down for additional weapons, but found only Murphy's service revolver. He gave it the same unceremonious treatment as he did to its more ostentatious cousin. Spinoza produced a pair of handcuffs and shackled the police officer's hands behind him.
"Where did you get those?" Murphy asked in disbelief.
"What?" Spinoza's voice was thick with annoyance.
"Those," Murphy did his best to gesture with his head toward his back.
"They're handcuffs, not battleships. They're not too hard to obtain." Spinoza placed a hand on Murphy's shoulder and forced him to sit facing the storage area courtyard, legs straddling the railing of the walkway.
Tannehill leaned on the railing near Murphy, careful to keep his distance. Spinoza kept an eye on Emily and Otto, though they seemed more invested in finding a spot to sleep off their hangovers than finding a way to evade capture. Both of them slumped against the exterior wall of the storage unit, nodding drowsily.
"The problem with perpetuating systemic corruption," Tannehill opened pensively in the lieutenant's direction, "is that it breeds laziness. Most of the time any unforeseen issues can be swept under the carpet, but, every once in a while, they require the skills an individual is supposed to be trained for rather than ones he simply claims by fiat." He was silent for a moment. "What's sad about you, Murph, is that you've always just been a thug with a badge. Lord knows I've made my own egregious mistakes, but I didn't dive into the system with reckless abandon and begin to believe my own press. It's what kept me sane. Poor, but sane."
Murphy stared at the far end of the courtyard, unresponsive. Tannehill took that as acquiescence to continue. "While it's true that I don't have many friends left in this town, it's not a giant leap to assume that I probably would've had some back up with me, paid or otherwise. If I were facing anyone other than you, I would've had to be more cautious. But you," he wagged a finger in the direction Murphy was staring, "you came to believe that I was so incompetent, that I'd just rush headlong into your trap. You were so cynical in your own relationships that you never recognized that friends who've had a falling out could reconcile and even risk their lives for one another when it matters." He stared down at his feet in an unspoken disappointment of his adversary's skills. "One could say that I took a big gamble with such a simple plan, but I knew I was up against you, so there was no real gamble in such a simple strategy in the first place."
Murphy sneered with a glint of triumph remaining in the corner of his eye. "When the whole," he paused for effect, "brigade" - he said the word with such flourish that his confidence in his outcome was all but guaranteed - "When your brigade arrives, why do you think anyone will believe you?"
Tannehill let the question echo through the courtyard. "You mean, why do I have faith in the same corrupt department that will do almost anything to protect its own, even if it means damning ten innocent men for expediency's sake or one extra, paltry dime?"
"What are the chances that they'll believe you, CH - a disgraced laughingstock of a former officer who's actively despised by his former co-workers? And, even if they do, what makes you think they'll ignore their loyalty to the department? And to me? Loyalty goes a long way in this town, and it makes a lot of careers."
"That's where you're hemmed in by your own biases, though, Murph. You can only see things through your own lens. Not everyone sacrifices their moral compass for unencumbered ambition. I've watched Novak. He may be a jackass and he may be insufferable, but he's not corrupt. He understands and accepts his station as a public servant and all of the sacrifices it entails. I suspect it's what helps him sleep at night."
Murphy continued to sneer, "if Novak can't be bought, he can certainly be dealt with."
Tannehill sighed, "sadly, you're right. That's why I had to come up with contingencies."
A glimmer of worry crept into Murphy's sneer. "What contingencies?" He spat out the syllables of the word as though it were an epithet.
"Well, while I agree that loyalty is highly prized among the civic-minded leaders of our fair city, political cover and deniability is of equal import. Spinoza's taken dozens of pictures even prior to your arrival at the bakery and made sure to transcribe every word you've said since we've arrived at the storage room. It's why I waited until morning to move ahead with my little plan. The flash from his camera would've been too obvious a tip-off that something fishy is going on - even for you." Tannehill cleared his throat for emphasis. "There's no way the department will back you in this venture once the rest of the press gets a hold of it. They'll claim that you acted alone and, for once, they won't be lying. Of course, everyone will miss the subtext that you're a monster of their own creation that shouldn't have been allowed to roam in the first place, but one battle at a time, my friend. They'll be more than happy to hang you from the highest gallows and then point in the direction of your corpse while they continue to pick the pockets of the city clean with noble largesse."
The two men fell silent, one reminiscing on the poor choices of his past, the other fearful for his future. They remained quiet until Vera approached from the far end of the courtyard, a large complement of dark blue marching purposefully behind her.
[Author's Note: I went back and forth over the course of the novel determining who was going to murder whom and had several different scenarios. I wasn't even certain who was going to remain alive at the end of the book. I considered killing off Vera or Spinoza at one point to adhere closer to the noir spirit of the novel I had originally intended, but the story really didn't support it. Today's version is 1310 words for a running total of 53091 words for the book. If I had to guess, there will likely be two more chapters in this first draft.]
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