© 2012 Phylicia Joannis
“So what is it?” Penny asked once she and the Complainer were outside.
“You remember the press conference we watched with the Commissioner and the Mayor?” the Complainer asked.
“Yeah,” Penny nodded. “The Mayor totally threw him under the bus.”
“That was just the beginning,” the Complainer shook his head. “The Mayor shifted the blame to the Commissioner in order to make himself the hero, and I’m going to be his poster boy.”
“Because of what happened in the subway today?” Penny reasoned.
The Complainer nodded. “I’ve agreed to tell their version of my story in exchange for an obscene amount of money.”
“Their version?” Penny raised her eyebrows.
The Complainer smiled. “In about an hour, I’ll be telling the world that I was trapped alone in a subway car for hours, and if it hadn’t been for the investigation efforts of the Mayor, I never would have been discovered.”
Penny frowned. “But they didn’t discover you. You were down there and found a way to escape.”
The Complainer gave Penny’s head a condescending pat. “A secret that will stay between us. So long as I get my money, what difference does it make who saved me? The Mayor wants the public to think that the investigations he claimed to have started uncovered the cover up and ended with my rescue.”
“But that’s not true,” Penny scowled. “And what about the people who were trapped earlier today?”
The Complainer waved his hand. “The Mayor has already taken care of that with the press conference earlier. My story will make the Mayor look like he went beyond the call of duty and found me.”
“So you would lie, just like that?” Penny frowned at him.
The Complainer shrugged. “I’m a lawyer.”
Penny shook her head. “It’s wrong. It doesn’t matter what story you and the Mayor or whoever else make up, the truth will come out.”
“Is this about your share?” the Complainer chuckled. “Penny you’ve been tremendous, I would never cut you out of the deal. There’s a lot of money in this for you, too.”
“I don’t want your money,” Penny crossed her arms. “And I wasn’t the only person who saw you claw your way out of the subway.”
“People claim to see things that didn’t happen all the time,” the Complainer smirked. “Anyone who came forward would be written off, and even if someone believed them, so what? No one will care enough to dig deeper.”
“I care,” Penny turned and walked away.
“Penny, I’m offering you an opportunity here,” the Complainer frowned. “If you cross me, you will regret it. You don’t want to be on the wrong side of this.”
Penny turned on her heel. “This? This is wrong!”
The Complainer scowled as Penny continued to stalk off.
***
Chuck felt the beginning stages of a migraine. Detective Gates was still in the building, but he’d left the dispatch area. Chuck stared at what he hoped was the last cup of coffee he’d drink today. If he didn’t eat something soon, he was going to pass out.
“Chuck?”
The sound of his supervisor hissing his name startled the cup of coffee right out of Chuck’s hand.
Chuck whirled around and glared at his supervisor.
“Chuck? Come here!” his supervisor beckoned him forward.
Chuck reluctantly followed her into the hallway. She looked around nervously before finally speaking.
“I spoke with Detective Gates a little while ago,” she began.
“So did I,” Chuck admitted, his stomach suddenly queasy. “What did he say?”
“He said they knew what happened to the technician,” she stopped as an employee passed through the hall.
Chuck felt his palms begin to moisten. His throat felt scratchy. “Did he tell you what happened?”
She shook her head. “No, he was being very cryptic, and he said something about leaving behind clues and coming back to have another chat with me. Chuck I think I may be in trouble here.”
Chuck’s mind was reeling. “What are you talking about?”
She bit her lip, the fear obvious in her face. “I was the one who found him, Chuck. The police? I think they believe I did it. I have to get a lawyer. Do you know anyone?”
Chuck breathed a mental sigh of relief. “Not offhand, but don’t you think getting a lawyer makes you look suspicious?”
“I have to do something!” His supervisor shrieked. “Detective Gates thinks I’m guilty. I know he does! He kept talking about coming back to see me, to have a little chat. I think he’s going to arrest me. Chuck, what do I do?”
Chuck noted the look of desperation in his supervisor’s face. Never before had she seemed so vulnerable to him. Detective Gates had put a little pressure on her and she’d freaked. If Chuck let her, she’d bury herself without him having to do anything. All he had to do was walk away. But something in her eyes struck Chuck with a twinge of guilt.
Walk away, Chuck told himself, already knowing that he couldn’t.
“Chuck?” his supervisor stared at him as if he were her savior.
“Don’t worry about it,” Chuck stated with a shrug. “Detective Gates gave me the same speech.”
“He did?”
Chuck groaned inwardly. He’d regret this, he was sure of it.
“Detective Gates told me the exact same thing. He’s probably telling everyone that, to see who will crack.” Realization dawned on Chuck and he smiled. “Truth is, they’re probably just grasping at straws.”
Relief washed over her face and she smiled. “So, I’m not going to jail?”
“Probably not,” Chuck shrugged.
His supervisor laughed. “Oh, thank God. I don’t know how I’d explain that to my husband.”
Chuck raised her eyebrows. She was married? He’d assumed she was a sour old spinster.
“Thank you, Chuck,” his supervisor pulled him into an embrace and Chuck awkwardly patted her back.
What a day.