“So,” Louis said carefully, “I was curious about why you didn’t mention it.”
Louis heard Jesse draw in a slow breath.
“I didn’t mention it because I never got the call,” Gibralter said.
Louis hesitated, knowing he was about to get his head chopped off. Shit, at least it would stop the headache. “Someone got the call,” he said. “It was four minutes long.”
Gibralter’s eyes didn’t waver. “I have a wife, Kincaid. Maybe they chatted for a few minutes.”
Louis lowered his eyes.
“So, if we are done discussing Lacey,” Gibralter said, “I have something I want to take up with you, Kincaid.”
Louis tightened. Now what?
Gibralter went to the credenza and took one of the swords off the wall. “This is a samurai sword,” he said. “Do you know why I have it here, Kincaid?”
Louis felt Jesse shift nervously at his side. “No, sir,” Louis said.
“I keep it to remind myself of what honor is. We spoke of honor once, didn’t we?”
“Yes, sir,” Louis said.
Gibralter’s hand traveled over the ornate hilt. “The samurai code was a simple one,” he said. “The business of a samurai consisted of reflecting on his station in life, in discharging loyal service to his master and in deepening the trust and fidelity of his fellow warriors.”
Gibralter looked at Louis. “You think maybe a samurai might have something to teach a cop?”
“I’m sure he would,” Louis said. Where the hell was this going?
Gibralter carefully set the sword back in its holder. “I spoke to a man named Bob Roberts today. Name ring a bell?”
The hairs on Louis’s arms came alive and he was suddenly aware of his heartbeat. It was moving up, mixing with the pounding in his head. “Can we discuss this in private?” he said.
“No. I think this is something Officer Harrison should hear.”
“Sir, this – ”
“We are under siege, Kincaid,” Gibralter said. “Any man on this force can take a bullet for you at any time. I think they should know how you plan to repay them.”
Suddenly, Louis knew what was coming, and there was no way he was going to be able to explain it.
“Officer Kincaid spent a couple of interesting days in Mississippi federal court last year, didn’t you?” Gibralter said.
“Yes,” Louis said.
“Officer Kincaid testified against another police officer by the name of Lawrence Cutter. What were the charges, Officer Kincaid?”
“Civil rights violations,” Louis said.
“What’d he do, Officer Kincaid? Call you a jigaboo?” Gibralter asked.
Louis went rigid. “Larry Cutter – ”
“Shut the fuck up when I’m talking to you!” Gibralter shouted.
Louis felt a tremor rush through his body, a signal of the rage building inside. He didn’t want Jesse to hear this without knowing the truth. He turned to him.
“Jess, the man tried to kill me. He tried to hang – ”
“I don’t care what he did!” Gibralter interrupted. “You turned on your own and cops don’t turn on their own!”
“Sir, I think – ” Jesse said quietly.
“No, you don’t!” Gibralter snapped.
Louis glared at Gibralter. “Are you firing me?”
Gibralter shook his head. “I have no intention of making it easy for you. If you leave here it will be because you quit or because your stupidity gets you killed.”
“Jesus, Chief,” Jesse whispered hoarsely.
“That’s enough.”
For a long moment it was quiet in the office. From outside came the murmur of the other morning-shift men, punctuated by the ring of the telephone. Finally, Gibralter turned away from them.
“Dismissed,” he said.
They rode in silence. Louis drove, his hands locked on the wheel, his eyes never wavering from the road. The snow had given way to sleet and Louis flicked on the wipers to keep the windshield from icing over. For a half hour, the silence between them built, like ice on glass. It was Jesse who finally broke it.
“Tell me about this cop.”
Louis shook his head. “Forget it. It was a thousand miles away, a thousand years ago.”
“Louis, for crissake, tell me.”
“I said forget it. I have.”
“Right. That’s why the veins are popping out of your temples. Tell me, damn it, why’d this guy try to hang you?”
“You heard enough.”
Louis stared straight ahead. They were heading southwest, passing through farmlands, flat acres of white nothingness that blended with the slate-gray sky.
“What? You think because I’m white I can’t understand? Is that it?” Jesse asked.
Louis glanced at him then looked back at the road.
Jesse let out a snort. “Man, you’re fucked up, you know it? You’re emotionally constipated and it’s fucked up your head and now you’re transferring your anger.”
“Spare me your psycho-crap,” Louis said.
“You’re angry at the chief and you’re transferring it to me.”
“Bullshit.”
Louis turned the wipers up a notch. They rode in silence for another ten miles until Jesse gave him directions to turn.
“Chief has ordered us all to double up,” Jesse said.
“On patrol?” Louis asked.
“Yeah. Did it while you were away. Says he doesn’t want anyone riding alone right now.”
