Murder Inside the Beltway - Margaret Truman [56]
Hatcher!
• • •
Jackson had stayed up late the night before pondering whether to ask for reassignment to another squad, or quitting the force altogether. He’d spoken with his father earlier that evening. He loved his parents, and he knew they loved him. His father was a large, gentle man with a low, rolling laugh and eyes that opened wide when listening to people, his patients as well as his many friends. Matt knew that his parents wanted more children but his mother had almost died following his birth; a complete hysterectomy had to be performed to save her life. Matt sometimes wished he’d had brothers and sisters, but also benefited from being the only child. He had his parents’ undivided attention, although it stopped short of outright spoiling him.
“How goes it, son?” his father asked during their phone call.
“Pretty good, Dad.”
His father laughed. “You don’t sound convinced.”
“No, I’m fine. But I’ve just about had it with my boss.”
“Detective Hatcher.”
“Yes, Detective Hatcher.”
“You said the last time we talked that he’s a bigot.”
“He sure is.”
“You’ve met and dealt with bigots before, Matt.”
“I know, but I never had to spend every day working with them, being that close.”
There was a pause on his father’s end. “Sure you’re not mistaking his take-no-prisoners personality with bigotry?”
“Dad,” Matt said, “Hatcher is a bull-headed, close-minded, nasty bastard. On top of it, he’s a bigot. Other than that, he’s a prince of a guy.”
“I don’t doubt you for a moment, son. I get the impression that you’re thinking of resigning.”
Matt hesitated. “That’s right,” he said. “Maybe you and Mom were right, being a cop was a dumb idea.”
“We never said it was dumb, Matt. We respected your desire to get out and do something tangible for people. That’s admirable.”
“But I don’t think I can take much more of Hatcher’s browbeating. He treats everything I say or do as though I was a—” Matt grinned. “As though I was a dumb kid, and a black one, at that.”
“Know what I think, Matt?” his father said. “I think you’d never forgive yourself if you gave up because of this man, tucked your tail in and ran. That’s not what you’re made of. Remember when we’d come home from parents’ night at your school? You’d complain about one teacher or another, that she ‘rots,’ as you liked to say, wasn’t fair, that sort of thing. And what would we tell you? We’d say that you’ll have to learn to get along with a lot of difficult people in your life, authority figures you don’t like, people who don’t think or act the way you want them to.”
“You don’t know Walter Hatcher.”
“Oh, I think I do,” said his father with a chuckle. “You’ve told me he’s a good cop.”
“That’s what they say.”
“So, you’re learning to be a good cop from him. Ignore his bullying side and look for the good things about him.”
Matt said nothing.
“I’m not saying that you aren’t right, Matt, and if you decide to quit, you have our blessing. But be sure you’ll be able to live with yourself if you allow this fellow to force you out—which is exactly what he wants to do. Sure you want to give him that satisfaction?”
“I’m not sure of anything anymore.”
“A good night’s sleep and you’ll come to the right decision. When will you be coming home again? We miss you.”
“Maybe sooner than you think. Thanks for the pep talk. You always make so much damn sense.”
“That’s what fathers are for, son. Take care. Mom is at her book club but told me to send her love when I called.”
• • •
The conversation with his father had initially put a few things into focus for Jackson, but it didn’t last long. He’d found himself pacing the apartment and having conversations