Faithfulness in the Center
Part 3
Leaving was much more difficult than Peter would have imagined. He had to lead Kermit away from the growing crowd of on-lookers who gathered by the police cruiser, straining to see what tragedy had occurred in their neighborhood.
Having successfully negotiated a path past them, Peter thought he and Kermit were home free, but then Sandra Mason miraculously appeared in front of the two cops, blocking their progress. "Peter Caine, I should've known you would be involved," she aimed a cool grin at the younger detective. She nodded to the cameraman, who aimed the lens at the officers. Her voice became suddenly professional and she blurted out a question, "Detective Caine, could you tell us what happened here tonight?"
Peter ignored her and tried to push his way past, keeping Kermit close to his side. "No comments?" she asked persistently. Peter still didn't respond. Sandra motioned for the cameraman to cut the tape. He dropped the camera to a resting position. She turned to Peter and asked coldly, "What's wrong, Caine. Did you decide to play Dirty Harry again? I hear that this time you killed a kid."
Peter was prepared to move on and allow the woman to take her shots at him, when suddenly Kermit spun out of his grasp and angrily approached the pushy reporter. His eyes were in mercenary mode and Peter inhaled a quick breath, fearing that Kermit was going to hit the woman. Without touching her he pushed his way towards her, causing her to back up quickly until her body was pressed against the side of the news van. The cameraman looked on, dumbfounded.
His voice lowered to a barely audible, low growl, as he said words that only she could hear, "Caine had nothing to do with this. You will leave him out of whatever lies you intend to air. Understand me?"
Peter grabbed Kermit by his right shoulder and pulled him away from the woman. He tried to maintain an air of authority and disapproval for the older man's actions, but inside he could not help but to cheer him on. "Come on. She's not worth the effort," he muttered in his friend's ear. Kermit did not fight and allowed Peter to guide him across the street and back to the park.
Within fifteen minutes, Peter had taken Kermit to the emergency room. The attending physician, Dr. Becker, saw Peter and grimaced. "Not again. . .what body part was shot and how many pints of blood are you going to need?"
Peter gave the doctor a dirty look, "It's not me this time. I'm here for my friend."
Peter started to help Kermit hop onto the examining table, but Kermit jerked away and single handedly pushed himself up and into a sitting position.
The doctor loosened the sling and slipped what was left of Kermit's shirt off his arms and examined the shoulder injury. The doctor's well-trained eyes inventoried the scars which marred the man's chest and back. At least three other bullet wounds had left their marks on his skin. There was also a long scar just below his rib cage. It was a knife wound, but it was not the clean line of a surgical cut; instead it was a jagged line, indicating that the man had been stabbed. The doctor shook his head and muttered, "You do realize that the idea is to end this life with the same number of holes you started with, right? Well, I guess you figured one more wasn't gonna matter, huh?"
Peter couldn't help chuckling at the doctor's failed attempt at humor. Kermit, however, gave no indication that he had heard the comment. While Kermit sat silently on the examination table, Peter took up position against the back wall of the room. Kermit had said nothing since leaving the scene of the shooting. The ever-present sunglasses had remained on his face, hiding his eyes. Peter had to resist the urge to reach out and rip them off the ex-mercenary so that he could see what kind of pain Kermit was suffering. The few times that Peter had seen Kermit's eyes, he was amazed at how much emotion they carried. It was no wonder that the man chose to keep them hidden from view.
"I'm going to give you a local. You're going to need a few stitches for this," the doctor told his patient. Kermit said nothing. "This is going to sting." Kermit still showed no response. The needle penetrated the skin around the wound. Peter, who had never had much use for needles, grimaced slightly. Kermit, however, didn't flinch. The doctor inserted the needle into the skin two more times, injecting the fluid into his body.
Minutes later, the doctor had called a nurse into the room to assist him with closing up the injury. Twenty stitches later, the wound was closed, Peter was ready to pass out. . .and Kermit still sat there silently.
The doctor wrote out a prescription for painkillers for the ex-mercenary. Kermit nodded absently. Peter took off his own windbreaker and helped Kermit ease it on over his bare shoulders. He reached down and zipped it up, providing the man with some privacy and warmth. "We can get that filled for you before we head back to the station," Peter told his friend.
"Won't need it," Kermit responded as he dropped the white slip of paper into the trash can and walked out of the room. Peter looked at his friend and then down at the trash can, shrugged his shoulders, bent down and picked up the discarded prescription. He folded it neatly and pushed it into his pocket.
The drive back to the 101st Precinct was as quiet as the drive to the hospital. The squad room was bustling with activity, quite different than it had been a few hours before. Over one and a half-hours had passed since the shooting and all those involved in the stake-out were in the squad room writing up their reports. Peter followed Kermit to Captain Simm's office. A formal report needed to be given by Griffin and he wanted to be present when it occurred.
The door was shut, so out of respect for the Captain's privacy Kermit tapped lightly on the door. "Come in," the woman responded.
Kermit opened the door and saw two men sitting in the visitor chairs at Simm's desk. He immediately recognized them as Peterson and Harris, both members of Internal Affairs. Kermit entered the room, Peter in tow. The Captain looked at Caine and motioned for the door, "We don't need you in here right now, Detective."
Peter started to protest, but upon seeing the Captain's face, backed down. He turned to the door and started to leave, but Kermit's voice stopped him, "He stays."
Everyone in the room looked at Griffin. Simms couldn't hide her surprise, both because he had requested Peter's presence and because he had openly defied her order. Peter was equally surprised. Down deep, he couldn't believe that Kermit actually wanted him to be there.
"Detective Griffin, this doesn't involve anyone else but you. . ." Harris started to reason.
Kermit cut him off, "He stays." Kermit looked at Peter, making what could be considered eye contact, even though the sunglasses prevented that. Peter could read the plea for assistance in Kermit's shaded eyes. He needed the emotional support, even though the man would never openly ask for it.
Peter looked at his Captain and the two IA investigators, "I'm staying."
Simms didn't argue with her two detectives. Harris shrugged at Peterson, "It doesn't matter to us one way or the other. We just want the facts of what went down tonight."
Taking a deep breath, Kermit began an unemotional recital of the details.
End Part 3