Untouchable – Part Twelve

Thursday 27 – Monday 3 March 2014

The young uniformed officer holstered his sidearm. William Gordon, corrupt detective who spent fifteen years on Robert Carter’s payroll, now lay dead outside of the police station house.

‘It’s the first time I’ve ever shot anyone,’ Mills said to Adelaide. He was visibly shaking as he handed his sidearm to another uniformed officer who looked like he could have been Mills’ father.

‘I’m the wrong person to talk about this too. Other than a couple of trips out to the shooting range, I stay away from guns,’ Adelaide replied. ‘I can tell you though, that Internal Affairs will be around to question you. They’ll be here sooner rather than later. Look, Mills, the Internal Affairs guys are worse than vultures, and they’ll do their best to trip you up. Just remember, this was a righteous shoot. Don’t let I.A. try to tell you otherwise.’

Mills nodded, clearly terrified of the idea of having to face up to Internal Affairs.

‘I’d suggest that you get in touch with your union representative, Mills, and have them sit in on your I.A. interview.’ Walter North swaggered from Gordon’s body to where Mills and Adelaide were standing.

‘Oh Jesus, am I in real trouble here?’ Mills asked.

‘I doubt it, but having your rep with you will likely mean that the I.A. dogs will think twice about going after your balls.’ North slapped the young officer on the shoulder, and then dragged Adelaide towards Gordon’s lifeless corpse. She looked apologetically at Mills, the young officer on the verge of tears.

‘Walter, I think we should help this kid out. Gordon was our problem, after all,’ Adelaide said.

‘You’re a bleeding heart, Danvers, that’s your problem.’ He glared at Adelaide as he spoke.

‘I’m not backing down on this, Walt.’

Fine. We’ll take care of this kid. Now will you get your head back on our case, please?’

* * * * *

Aside from the creaking and settling of the wood after the heat of the day, the house was silent around him. His wife had gone upstairs to bed some time ago, leaving Robert Carter in solitude in his home office. The events of the day were playing on his mind. Had the detective opened his mouth to the Department of Justice before he’d been shot? Would Henry keep his mouth shut about being promoted as an incentive to kill Mike Albright? Had Mike managed to inform on Carter Industries?

Word had reached Robert only minutes after Detective William Gordon had been shot while trying to escape custody. It pleased Carter that one of his loose ends was nicely tied up, and the death of Gordon had absolutely nothing to do with it. Thanks to a young, inexperienced cop, Gordon was removed from the Carter Industries picture. Had the veteran detective not fumbled an attempt to escape from the authorities, he’d be alive, and able to explain how Robert Carter had ordered the deaths of many competitors, arranged for associates to be released from police custody, and how a lot of damning evidence just happened to go missing in cases involving Carter Industries. It was relief that Robert felt more than anything else.

Four loud knocks on the front door of the Carter home startled Robert. He raced to the front door, hoping to get there before his wife was woken.

‘Who the hell do you think you are banging on my door at –’ Robert halted mid-sentence when he opened the door and saw who his late night visitors were.

‘We think that we’re a combined force of staff from the Department of Justice, the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and the local police force.’

Carter’s complexion paled immediately that he recognised his daughter.

‘Adelaide. I should have known that you’d be the first on my doorstep.’

‘What can I say? I’m honoured that you actually bothered to think of me. Let me hand over to the guys from the Bureau. Gentlemen, would you care to do the honours?’ Adelaide smiled as she stepped aside for the F.B.I. agents.

No one had noticed that Angela Carter had made her way downstairs, woken by the voices coming from the front door.

‘Robert? What’s going on here?’ she asked. He turned his head to look at her.

‘Go back to sleep, Angela. There’s nothing for you to worry about.’

She ignored his instruction, and came to the front door, surprised to see her daughter flanked by law enforcement.

‘Adelaide. This is a surprise. What’s going on?’

Danvers stepped forward, pushing past her father, and stepping in to comfort her mother as she explained the terms of Carter’s arrest.

‘Robert,’ Angela called as he was frogmarched to a black SUV parked behind a police car in the driveway. ‘What have you done?’

. . . To be continued . . .

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About Danielle

I like to write. What more is there to know?
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