Return to Innocence
Part 11
The doctor opened the doors of the hospital's morgue for Kathy. Peter held out his arm, offering his support as she entered the room, but she shook her head. "No, Peter. I need to do this alone. . .please."
Peter nodded his understanding, "I'll be right out here if you need me."
"Peter, you don't have to stay here. Go back to the lobby. I'll meet you there. I just need to spend some time with him."
Peter looked into the woman's glistening eyes. His own eyes narrowed skeptically. He understood her desire to be alone with her husband for one final time, but was hesitant to abandon her. She placed a hand on his arm, "I'm okay. . .really."
Peter nodded, "Okay. There's something I need to do. Don't go to the lobby to wait. Instead, meet me in the 2nd floor waiting room. That way you won't have to deal with the press."
She nodded her thanks and entered the room, the doors swinging closed behind her. Peter took a deep breath and began the journey that he knew he had to make. Closing his eyes, he reached out for his father and brushed against his chi. His father was still in the hospital and Peter had a good idea of where he would find him. He made a turn and headed for the admittance desk.
The disheveled woman attending the desk looked up at the newcomer. "Yes?"
"I need to know what room Theodore Watson is in."
"I'm sorry Sir, I'm not allowed to give out that information," the woman turned her attention back to the work on her desk.
"Excuse me," Peter pulled out his badge, "but you can give it to me."
She looked at the photo identification on the badge and then at Peter's face. "Very well. He's in 438."
"Thank you," Peter made his way to the elevator. He pushed on the button which would return the elevator to the ground floor. When it didn't respond immediately, he pushed the button again, and again. Realizing what he had done, he stopped, closed his eyes and took a deep, centering breath.
He had to talk with his father and it would do no good to blow his cool as he had done earlier. Seeing Kathy's strength had made it imperative that he discuss his father's desire to help Watson in a calm, reasonable manner, no matter how difficult.
Without realizing it, Peter found himself on the fourth floor of the hospital. He did not remember the elevator arriving on the ground level, or stepping inside and pushing the fourth floor button.
He stepped into the quiet hallway and looked up and down each wing. He spotted the armed police officer outside of a hospital room, knowing that this was the location of Theodore Watson.
Looking beyond the officer, Peter spotted the object of his search. There, on the floor, legs crossed half-lotus, was his father. Peter approached the man silently, although his motive for the silence was unclear to him. Was it because he did not want to disturb his father's meditation or was it because he really did not want to confront his father again on the subject matter which was sure to arise. Peter hoped it was the first, but knew in his heart, it was the latter.
He had made it to within a few feet of his father when Caine suddenly spoke, "It is good you are here." His eyes remained closed.
Peter stood silently for a moment considering his response. "I didn't want to leave it the way it was."
Caine, eyes still closed, smiled slightly, "Nor did I."
"I'm sorry, Pop. . .not for the way I feel, but for what I said to you," the words tumbled out of Peter's mouth. Once they were out, Peter felt relief spread through his chest. He settled on the floor next to his father.
"I, too, am sorry. I should have respected your feelings about what had happened to your friend. I exercised poor judgment and. . .bad timing."
Peter matched his father's smile with a sad one of his own, "I still don't agree with what you are intending to do. . .I don't like the fact you are going to try to help the killer, but I do respect you for your commitment to your beliefs."
Caine opened his eyes. "Peter, I know that you are in mourning over the loss of your friend, but please, for your own sake, do not. . .'jump to conclusions.' There is more to what happened tonight than what you are choosing to remember."
Peter felt his anger flare up again. He started to open his mouth and say the first words which formed in his thoughts, but having learned the lesson from earlier that night, he swallowed the words and pushed the anger down. Rethinking his approach he tried a different response. "Why do you say that? Four of us saw what happened. Watson shot Michael. . .and killed him. There is no dispute of that."
"No." Caine agreed. "But Peter, there is more."
Peter stopped to consider his father's words, the memory of the events rising up. "I'm sorry, Pop. But I know what I heard. . .what I saw. Nothing can change that."
Caine dropped his eyes to the floor. "Very well." Then the older brown eyes met the younger hazel, "Will you at least listen to what the man in that room has to say?" Caine's hand gestured to the hospital room behind him.
Peter stopped to consider the request. He shrugged his shoulders, "It won't matter, but if it'll make you happy, I'll listen."
Caine tilted his head, "It is not a matter of making me happy, Peter. I want you to do this for yourself."
Peter did not understand what his father was referring to, but frankly, it didn't matter. He would listen to Theodore Watson if it would please his father. He wouldn't like it. . .but he would listen.
Peter stood slowly, suddenly acknowledging how weary his body felt. It had been a long day and an even longer night. . .and he didn't foresee it ending anytime in the near future. He turned to the guard, "Has he requested an attorney yet?"
The officer shook his head. "He didn't request an attorney, but the Public Defender's office caught wind of the shooting and is already in the process of sending someone down."
"They work quick," Peter commented. He felt his father standing behind him.
"Won't matter. With your testimony and the others', the guy's gonna fry," the officer said coldly, a look of death in his eyes. Peter felt his father stiffen at the words.
"Peter?" Caine whispered. Peter turned to the elder Caine, "What does he mean?"
"The death penalty, Pop," Peter muttered. "It's called 'capital murder' if you kill a police officer in this state."
"Even by accident?" Caine's voice was filled with astonishment.
Peter closed his eyes and shook his head, "No. . .not by accident. . .intentionally."
Caine took a deep breath and grabbed his son's shoulder for emphasis, "Peter, it is imperative that you speak with Theodore Watson. . .tonight."
"I can't, Pop. He has an attorney coming to help him. I can't question him without his attorney being present."
"But Peter, you must speak with him. . .listen to what he has to say," Caine's voice demanded.
Peter took a deep breath, "I will, Father. I just can't do it now. Maybe later, after he has had a chance to speak with his attorney. Maybe then. But he will have to agree to talk with me. . .and I doubt he will. I'm the enemy. . .there is no reason he would want to divulge any information to me." Peter leaned against the wall, not really wanting to explain the finer points of the justice system to his father.
A booming voice suddenly came from the front of the hallway, grabbing the attention of both Caines. Captain Barnes was making his way towards them, speaking over his shoulder to Wilson and Pearson. He then looked at Peter, "Caine, we need to get back to the station. There are reports to be filed about tonight and I want everything on record while it's still fresh in our memory."
Peter looked from his father to the leader, "I will come down as soon as Kathy is done with Michael."
"She already is finished. I had Jacobson take her home." Barnes said abruptly, "Now, Detective Caine, your presence is needed and that was not a request. . .it was an order."
Peter felt his spine stiffen at the tone of the captain's voice, "Yes Sir."
He took one step towards the captain and felt a hand on his arm, holding him fast, "Peter. . ." Caine's voice was desperate, "We need to speak with Watson."
Peter turned to his father and started to explain about procedure and chain of command, but before he could say a word, Barnes voice filled the hallway, "Let go of my officer. . .he has work to do."
Caine looked at the large man, but didn't remove his hand. Peter turned to his father, his voice desperate now, "Pop, I'll come back when I'm finished. We'll talk then."
Caine considered his options and slowly released his grip. He looked at Barnes and knew that arguing his point would only hurt Peter. Barnes was not a man to concede his position, of that the elder Caine was certain. "Very well. I will be here." He nodded and bowed slightly to Barnes, but whether it was out of respect or out of habit, he was not so certain.
End Part 11
To Part 12