She nodded. “We’ve got this now, sir. Thank you for everything you’ve done.” She turned to Sal. “Detective Mattera... Sal... my name is Rosa. I’m going to check you over.”
Sal groaned, which was a good sign. He still had some connection to what was going on around him.
I got to my feet and stepped back while Winston and his team moved into the building, expertly covering each other until they were inside.
I looked down at Sal’s pistol, which was still in my hand, and saw my knuckles were white from clutching the grip. I hoped I’d got lucky and winged the shooter with one of my shots.
I walked across the street and sank onto the curb as more cop cars arrived. Soon patrol cars and unmarked vehicles filled the road around the warehouse, drawing people to the doorways, windows and lots of the surrounding businesses. Uniformed cops were instructed to form a perimeter by a watch commander, and somber-faced men and women in suits clustered around Sal.
After a few minutes, my phone rang and I saw Mo-bot’s name on-screen.
“Go ahead,” I said.
“You okay?” she asked, sounding relieved. “The tabloids are reporting the Ecokiller has shot a cop. LAPD chatter picked up on scanners and from anonymous department sources.”
I shook my head at the thought grim news like this could break even before the cop’s family had been told.
“I’m fine,” I assured her. “Detective Mattera got shot too. He’s in a bad way.”
“I’m sorry, Jack,” Mo-bot said.
The crime scene was getting even busier. A mobile command unit was pulling up at the end of the street, and the first citizen journalists were on the scene with their phones.
“It’s turning into a circus here,” I said, and then I noticed one of the cops who’d just arrived break away from a group of detectives and head in my direction. She walked with confidence and wore an expensive gray pantsuit. “I’ve got to go,” I told Mo-bot. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“I’m Captain Linda Brooks,” the suited woman said as I hung up. “SWAT medic says you saved Sal’s life.”
“I wish I could have done more,” I replied. “Jack Morgan.” I offered her my hand.
“Private,” she said as she shook it. “Sal told me you were helping him. I’m his commanding officer. What the hell happened here?”
I sighed, and glanced over at Sal, who was being lifted onto a gurney. “We pursued the suspect known as the Ecokiller. We were concerned he would escape from the building, and as we moved in to prevent that, he opened fire.”
“Shit,” said Brooks. “Sal should have known better. He shouldn’t have tried playing the hero.”
One of the paramedics approached us. “We’re moving him now, Captain.”
Across the street, the SWAT medic and one ambulance service responder lifted the gurney to full height and pushed Sal toward the vehicle. The paramedic held a drip above the injured man’s head.
“Gotta go,” said the lead paramedic, jogging to the ambulance.
Linda and I followed, and she touched Sal’s shoulder as he was lifted into the vehicle.
“You stay with us, Sal,” she said. He looked at us with glassy, unseeing eyes before the paramedics got busy around him.
Moments later, the doors were slammed shut, the engine rumbled to life, and the siren sounded as the vehicle began its dash to the hospital.
“You’d better take this,” I said, offering Captain Brooks the pistol I was still holding. “It’s Sal’s. I used it to lay down suppressing fire so I could pull him clear.”
She took the gun from me without comment and slipped it into her waistband.
As the ambulance joined Sepulveda Boulevard and raced away, Winston emerged from the building and jogged across the disused parking lot to the gates which had been forced open.
“Building is clear,” he said as he approached us. “The suspect is in the wind.”
Chapter 14
It was late by the time I got to the hospital. I was still in my tux from the previous night, and it was now grimy with the residue of a traumatic day. I desperately needed a shower, but I’d arranged to meet Mo-bot and Sci and wanted to check on Justine.
I’d been interviewed by Captain Brooks and a Detective Philips, who was seething at what the shooter had done to Sal. I gathered he was a popular figure in the department. I gave them the same account I’d given Brooks when she’d spoken to me at the scene, but with much more detail. While I was being deposed at the precinct, Brooks got word Sal’s condition had stabilized enough for surgery. The news had buoyed the cops’ spirits, and I could understand why. I know about the camaraderie people develop when serving together or while working dangerous jobs. Today it was Sal who had fallen victim to a shooter. Another day and it could have been a different colleague whose life was brutally disrupted, carted away in an ambulance to fight off the cruel grasp of death. Plus, Sal seemed to be a genuinely good guy. I’d warmed to him during our brief time together.
Finally, when Linda was satisfied she had everything she needed, I was told I could go. I immediately caught a cab to Cedars-Sinai. Mo-bot was due to hand over to Sci, but said she’d wait for me so we could discuss what had happened.
“She’s awake,” Mo-bot told me, as I neared Justine’s room. “She wants to see you.”
Mo-bot and Sci were seated either side of the low table directly opposite the door. Mo-bot was on her laptop, and Sci was reading a book on classic motorcycles called The Art of Speed.
“Boss,” he said with a nod. “You look like you’ve been in the wars. A stylish war, but a war nonetheless.”
I tipped an imaginary hat at him. “It hasn’t been the best day. Give me a few minutes.”
He and Mo-bot nodded, and I opened the door to Justine’s room carefully in case she was resting.
She was lying with her head at an angle, so she could see past the frame that kept the blanket off her belly. I was pleased to see she was no longer on supplemental oxygen. The mask had gone.
“Hey,” she said quietly.
“Hey,” I replied. “How are you?”
“Okay. They say it’s going to take a while.”
I knew from experience that the mental aspects of recovery could be as challenging as the physical.
“There’s no rush. Take all the time you need,” I said.
“Mo told me about the cop who died,” Justine responded. “Poor guy. Are you okay?”
I nodded. “I was lucky.”
“LAPD will be all over this,” Justine remarked.
“Yeah. And the guy just went for another cop too.” I took her right hand and squeezed it gently.
“I changed my mind,” she said. “I don’t want you ending up like me. Or the cops. This guy is far too dangerous.”
I nodded. “I get that.”
I hated the idea of giving up on a chase, but my place was at Justine’s side, and the cops would hunt this man to the ends of the earth. There wouldn’t be a rock he could hide under in this whole city or the world beyond.
“My ally in the department got taken out, so I’m probably not welcome in any case. I’ll go home, have a shower, grab a change of clothes and see if the hospital can set me up with a cot in here.”
“I already asked,” Justine revealed. “It’s against policy. Visitors need to leave by nine. Security personnel are permitted to be present by special arrangement, which is why Sci and Mo-bot were allowed to loiter outside for so long.”
“Then I’ll join your team of loiterers,” I told her. “And when I’m not here, l’ll stay at the Four Seasons down the street.” The upscale hotel was only a few hundred yards from the hospital.
Justine smiled and squeezed my hand in reply, making a point of showing her returning strength. Her grip still felt weak, but I was encouraged by the effort she’d made and pretended it hurt.