Hodge was waiting for me in the hall outside the office suite.
“Al,” I said with a nod. His lip twitched. He hated it when I used the “common” form of his name.
“Locke,” he returned, as he sized me up. “If that’s still you.”
“Still me.”
“I’m surprised the old mare put you on this one. Been a while, no?”
His faux European persona grated on me. We graduated the academy the same year, hired on at the same department, worked the same shift. The similarities ended there. My partner was a couple years out from retirement and refused the desk. Al’s was in his prime and had led the department in collars each year of his career, though their methods were called into question once Al arrived. None of us were sure who pushed the other over the edge or if they leapt together, but as their arrests rose, so did the suspects who found themselves in the back of an ambulance. These were the old days when militarized police roamed the city. Once the funding was pulled, local law enforcement numbers were halved and we went back to walking beats, solving problems, being community members instead of an occupying army. Al didn’t survive the first round of firings, too many citizen complaints and brutality accusations. The more dangerous policing responsibilities fell to the newly formed federal troopers that swallowed up the alphabet soup agencies. They’d take the occasional assist from guys like him, but wouldn’t touch him officially. Troopers had to be professional. Conformists. The Coursers had less exacting standards. Formed around the same time, Coursers took on the shit work no one else wanted like bail jumpers, property crimes, and anything else ordered by the local magistrate. Eventually, a network of gig-working misfit toys developed as a dumping ground for unwanted cases.
“You can have it. I didn’t ask for this,” I said.
“Wish I could, but I’m already on a job.” He adjusted the weapon on his hip. The holster was worn, broken in by old habits.
“You gonna bring ‘em back alive this time? Change it up a little bit?”
His smile was all teeth, like I paid him a compliment.
“That all depends on them, doesn’t it?” He clicked the safety strap open, as though preparing to clear the holster, then clicked it closed.
“You know…I heard a rumor.” He continued.
Click. Click.
“I heard you graduated from running protection at opium dens.”
Click. Click.
“That you brought the opium den to you.”
Click. Click.
“Shame I was ‘retired’ by then. Would’ve paid to be there when they dragged you out.”
Click.
I stepped forward, closing the gap between us.
“You may still get your chance.”
Click.
"...but as their arrests rose, so did the suspects who found themselves in the back of an ambulance." Nice! Hodges is a nasty character, ominous. So many horrific possibilities with him . Make sure he has a bad end. Ha Ha Ha
Hodges has a lot more shocking behavior in him before justice is done. Hang on. He will reveal his plans soon. One sentence at a time...