Grant of Immunity (29 page)

H
art awoke
, sitting in a chair. His hands were tightly handcuffed behind his back, hurting his wrists.The cuffs were also somehow connected to the chair, so that he was unable to move his hands. He was in a bedroom. A sock was shoved into his mouth; he had trouble breathing and thought he was going to choke. He had to use every bit of resolve to keep from panicking.

He surveyed the bedroom. It was clearly a woman’s room. White and pink wallpaper, white carpet, pink pillows and lace sheets. Hart’s chair was against the wall. A door leading into a hallway was to his left. There was a window above the four-poster bed to his right with closed vertical blinds. The headboard side of the bed was against the wall, below the window. To Hart’s left was a white dresser with drawers.

Escape wasn’t possible, Hart concluded. He could topple his chair, and perhaps that would be heard at the front door, although he couldn’t be sure. But he would then be on the floor and helpless. The best he could do was wait to see if an opportunity of some sort presented itself.

A few feet away, Jake Babbage sat on the edge of the bed. At his feet was an open black grip containing duct tape and several pairs of handcuffs. Babbage was directly across from him, grinning. Doris Reynolds was also sitting on the bed. Babbage wore plastic gloves and held a huge knife in his right hand. He was pressing the point against Doris Reynolds’s neck. A gun jutted from his waistband.

“I thought you and I might celebrate the end of your trial, Chief,” Babbage said. “After all, what with my immunity and your acquittal, we don’t have to worry any more about Sarah Collins, do we?”

Hart squirmed, trying to free himself. He tried to say something, but the sock in his mouth made it impossible. He tried to yell, but it came out as a muffled groan.

“I also thought you and I could have a little fun. Like the old days.” Babbage turned to Doris. “Unzip his pants and take out his dick.”

“Jake,” Doris said, “you promised you wouldn’t hurt me if I got him here—”

“Shut up,” Babbage snapped. “Just do it.”

He pushed the point of the knife into her neck. She gasped. “Okay. Okay, please. Don’t hurt me.”

Reynolds came over to Hart and got on her knees in front of him. Hart twisted in the chair, doing everything he could to avoid her hands, but it was no use. Doris unzipped his pants and reached into his boxer shorts. He could feel her cold hands touching him. She pulled out his penis.

“Put it in your mouth,” Babbage ordered her.

“Why are you making me do this?” Doris asked.

“Just do what I say.”

Doris bent down, opened her mouth, and put her lips around Hart’s penis. He felt the warmth of her mouth on him, felt the edge of her teeth.

Then Doris gagged and pulled away. She looked back to Babbage. She was crying. “Please, Jake.”

“If you don’t do what I say
right now
, I’m going to kill you.”

Doris bent down again, opened her mouth, and drew in Hart’s penis. Hart couldn’t believe he was in this nightmare, couldn’t believe this all could be happening again. And Doris. Even though she had been thoughtless and cruel toward him, she didn’t deserve this. No one did.

Babbage got up, walked over to Hart, and spoke softly into his ear. “Doesn’t this bring back fond memories, Chief? Memories of nineteen years ago? At the reservoir? Remember that blowjob? Was it as good as this one?”

There was a knock at the front door.

W
hen Fitz
and Erin arrived at Doris Reynolds’s house, they parked four doors down, around a curve and across the street. On the way out, they called Reynolds’s home number—no answer. Checking with the watch commander at Sybil Brand, Fitz determined that she’d been released at 6 a.m.

Fitz noticed a red Toyota truck in Reynolds’s driveway and another car parked in front of the house. The truck looked to Fitz like Babbage’s, but the car wasn’t Reynolds’s. She drove a Lexus coupe. This was a Volvo.

Fitz ran the plates on the computer terminal in his unmarked car. The truck was, as he suspected, Babbage’s. The plate on the Volvo parked in front came up as confidential. Fitz recalled from the search and arrest warrant that Daniel Hart drove a Volvo. And as a judge, the plates would come up as confidential.

Something was seriously wrong.

“I need to find out what’s going on,” he told Erin. “If I don’t come back in fifteen minutes, call Captain Becker.”

Fitz wrote down Becker’s direct number and gave it to Erin. He got out of the car and walked to Reynolds’s front door.

Halfway there, he hesitated.
Maybe this isn’t a good idea
…
Goddammit
.
I’m going to get to the bottom of this, whether Doris Reynolds likes it or not.

He went to the door, pressed an ear against it, and listened. Nothing.

He knocked.

Moments passed, then Reynolds partially opened the door. Through a narrow opening of about six inches, Fitz could see that she was wearing a bathrobe, holding it tightly around her. “What … what … do you want?” she asked.

“I’m just checking up on you, Doris. The watch commander at Sybil Brand told me you’d been discharged early this morning, but when I called here, there was no answer. Frankly, I was worried.”

“There’s … nothing … to worry about …” She looked down, avoiding his eyes. “I’m okay.”

“What happened to your face?”

She reddened. “Oh … Sybil Brand … It was a rough night … Inmates don’t like prosecutors.”

Fitz studied her. A bruise on her face was still red, and if it had happened last night, he would have expected it to darken by this time, to be more of a purple color. There was also dried blood on her lip.

“Where’s Babbage?” Fitz asked.

She started. “Babbage?” She looked into Fitz’s eyes, but he couldn’t read the expression on her face.

“His truck is parked in your driveway,” Fitz replied.

“Oh … yes … he’s … here.” She looked down.

“Where is he?”

“He … he’s … in the … bathroom.”

“Is Daniel Hart here, too?”

Reynolds looked up. Her eyes widened. “Why would he be here?”

“That’s what I was wondering,” Fitz said. “His car is here, too. Parked in front of your house.” Fitz pointed.

Reynolds said, “You must be mistaken. He’s not here. I can’t talk to you any more.”

Fitz didn’t move. “I’m not mistaken. That’s Hart’s car. What’s going on, Doris?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you? What’s going on here is none of your goddamned business. Just go away.”

“All right,” he said finally. “I’ll go.”

Reynolds closed the door.

B
abbage had been
out of sight, behind the door, holding his Glock 9mm semiautomatic pistol on Reynolds while she was talking. After she closed the door, Reynolds said, “I did what you wanted. Now please don’t hurt me.”

“Shut up.”

Babbage positioned himself behind Reynolds and held her around her waist while he pointed his weapon at her head. He took her to a spot five feet from the front window where he could see outside without being seen. He watched Fitzgerald walking toward the street. When Fitzgerald reached the sidewalk, he turned to the right and moved until he was outside of Babbage’s view.

He must be parked down the street, Babbage thought. It wasn’t a good sign that Fitzgerald was being cautious.

He decided that he needed to wait to see whether Fitzgerald was satisfied with Reynolds’s responses. The guy didn’t seem enough of a gambler to try and force his way into Reynolds’s house. But if that happened, Babbage had only one chance of getting out of this successfully, and it would require skill and an incredible amount of luck. But he had succeeded before, facing worse odds.

B
abbage returned to the bedroom
, gun in hand, walking behind Doris. Hart glared at him. Babbage pushed Doris toward the bed. “Don’t turn around,” he commanded her. “I want you to look straight ahead.”

“But why?” Doris asked. “Can’t I get dressed? Please, Jake?”

Using his gun, Babbage struck Doris across the back of her head.

Babbage quickly stripped off her robe and positioned her unconscious body on the bed. Then he took the knife and a length of rope from his black grip. He cut sections of rope and tied Doris, nude and spread-eagled, to the headboard and to the posts at the foot of the bed. He then cut a section of duct tape and sealed Doris’s mouth. Babbage placed the knife on the dresser, took off his plastic gloves, and put them into the grip.

He came toward Hart, gun in hand. “I’m going to ungag you and take off your handcuffs. If you shout or do anything other than exactly what I tell you, I’ll kill you
and
I’ll kill Doris. Understood?”

Hart nodded, thinking that Babbage would kill them both anyway. But he needed Babbage to think that he’d cooperate.

Babbage removed the gag. Holding the gun against Hart’s head, Babbage unlocked the handcuffs. He backed away but kept the weapon trained on Hart, who bent down to free his legs.

“Don’t stand up yet,” Babbage commanded.

Hart remained seated, looking up. The knife on the dresser was ten feet away, between where Hart sat and the corner where Babbage had positioned himself. Hart glanced at the knife.

Babbage smiled. “You are so fucking easy to read,” he said. “If you think you can get that knife, go for it.” He leveled his gun at Hart.

Hart didn’t move.

“I have a proposition for you, Chief,” Babbage said. “It may even save your life. And Doris’s.”

Hart said nothing. He knew he and Doris were as good as dead, and that only he could prevent it. He was not going to repeat his mistakes of nineteen years ago, no matter what.

“If Fitzgerald comes back, he’s certain to look in this window.” Babbage motioned toward the window over the bed. Hart noticed that Babbage was positioned so he could not be seen from the outside. “If Fitzgerald looks in, I want you to go over to the dresser and pick up the knife.”

“What if I refuse?” Hart asked.

“Then I’ll kill all of you. Including Fitzgerald,” Babbage said.

B
ack in the car
, Fitz told Erin what had happened when he’d gone to Doris’s door. Every instinct he’d developed during his entire career told him that this was a life-or-death situation.

“I don’t like it,” he told Erin. “I’ve got to do something.”

“But what? You still don’t have proof that anything’s wrong.”

“I’ll call Captain Becker. Even though he told me to stay out of this, I don’t care. I can’t just stand by and do nothing.”

He dialed Becker’s direct number on his cell phone. Becker answered on the first ring. “Captain Becker? Fitzgerald here. Captain, I know you told me to stay out of the Babbage-Reynolds situation, but something’s come up, and I think we need to take some action.”

Fitz filled Becker in on what had occurred, ending with Reynolds’s denial that Hart was in the house. Becker asked, “Hart’s car is there? Are you sure of that?”

“Not positive. Hart drives a Volvo and the plates come up as confidential.”

“Jesus. If Hart’s in there, he must be holding Babbage and Reynolds. That would explain her demeanor.”

“Maybe Babbage is the one who’s doing the holding,” Fitz said.

“That doesn’t make sense. Why in the world would Babbage do such a stupid thing? No. If there’s a problem, it must be Hart. After all, the two people who tried to put him in jail are Babbage and Reynolds.”

Fitz rubbed a hand across his jaw. Babbage was up to something. He knew it.

Becker continued. “And what if that isn’t Hart’s car or if Hart isn’t inside the house? What if Reynolds and Babbage are just in the sack together? That would also explain the situation. Wouldn’t it?”

“Except for her bruises and the bloody lip.”

“But she told you that she was injured at the jail.”

“I’m not sure I believe that,” said Fitz.

“I’ll tell you what,” Becker said. “I’ll call the watch commander at Sybil Brand and ask if Reynolds was injured. He’d surely know about it. If she was attacked in jail, then you and I will butt out.”

“And if she wasn’t?” Fitz asked.

“One thing at a time. I’ll call the watch commander now and get back to you. What’s your cell phone number?”

Fitz gave Becker the number and hung up. “What did he say?” Erin asked.

Fitz told her. “And if Doris was hurt at the jail?” Erin said. “What will you do then?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s find out and then re-evaluate.” Fitz said.

Moments later, the phone rang. “Fitzgerald here.”

“Fitz,” Captain Becker’s voice registered concern. “Doris Reynolds was not injured at the jail.”

“Then I’m going in, Captain,” Fitz said.

“Hold on. You can’t go without backup. They’ll be on their way ASAP. After they arrive, you’ll go in with them.”

“But if something’s wrong, we shouldn’t wait.”

“You
will
wait, Fitz. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir.”

Erin had been leaning forward during the conversation to eavesdrop.

“How long will it take to get backup?” Erin asked.

“Only a few minutes.”

Erin shook her head. “Doris could be dead by then. You can’t wait.”

“I’ve been ordered to do just that,” Fitz said. “I have no choice.”

“We’d never forgive ourselves if something happened,” Erin said. “You’ve got to do something
now.
”

“Erin, if I go in there with guns blazing, and everything is okay, or Babbage and Doris are just in the sack, it would be the end of me. Especially after my captain ordered me
not
to take any action without backup.”

Erin didn’t reply.

Finally, Fitz spoke. “Okay. I’ll snoop around and see what else I can find out. But that’s all.”

“I’m going with you,” Erin said.

“No. It’s too dangerous. I can’t let you do it.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Erin, I won’t go unless you wait here for me. I can’t risk it. So wait for backup.”

“Okay, you win.” Erin kissed him on the cheek. “Be careful.”

Fitz cut across Reynolds’s neighbor’s lawn to approach the side of the house away from the front windows. On the south side of the house was a small, opaque window. A few feet from that window was a larger one with closed vertical blinds. From the positioning and size of the two windows, Fitz reasoned that the larger was to a bedroom, with the smaller being an attached bathroom. Because of the slant of the closed blinds, he was unable to see inside.

He approached the opaque window, careful to stay out of the line of sight of anyone who might be watching from the house. He listened at the window, drew his Beretta 9mm, verified that there was a round in the chamber, and slid the safety off. With his back toward the wall, he moved. If he could get on the other side of the window, his angle of vision might permit him to see the interior of the house. Crouching as low as possible he reached the other side.

He looked at his watch. Where was the damn backup? He tried to position himself so that he could see inside without being detected. He thought he saw someone standing inside, looking back. Fitz withdrew, his back against the wall. The sun was beating down and he could feel sweat dripping from his face and under his arms.