The Crucifix Killer - Chris Carter [23]
The captain looked back at Garcia, searching for a hint of fear, self-doubt maybe, but years of experience in character judging told him this kid wasn’t scared, at least not yet.
‘OK then, we’re done here. Let me introduce you to your new partner,’ he said, opening the door to his office. ‘Hunter . . . get in here,’ his loud voice resonating through the busy floor.
Hunter had just walked in. He was sitting at his desk stirring a cup of strong black coffee. His sleep-hangover made the captain’s voice sound like a heavy metal band. He calmly had a sip of the bitter-tasting liquid and felt it burn his lips and tongue. In the past few months Hunter’s insomnia had gotten worse, fueled by the constant nightmares. He’d sleep a couple of hours every night if he was lucky. His daily routine had become lethargic – bad headache, strong boiling-hot coffee, burnt mouth and onto the pile of second-rate cases on his desk.
Hunter didn’t knock, he simply opened the door and stepped inside. Garcia was standing next to the rosewood desk.
‘Yo! Captain, you’ve got the wrong man, I’m not in trouble with Internal Affairs,’ Hunter said biting the loose skin on his burnt top lip.
Garcia looked down at his suit again.
‘Sit down, Hunter, he isn’t IA.’ The captain paused, holding the suspense for a few seconds. ‘Meet your new partner.’
At first those words didn’t seem to register in Hunter’s ears. Garcia took two steps in Hunter’s direction and offered his hand. ‘Carlos Garcia, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Detective Hunter.’
Hunter left Garcia’s hand hanging in the air; in fact he didn’t move at all except for his eyes. Garcia could feel Hunter analyzing him, trying to size him up. It took Hunter twenty seconds to make his mind up about his new partner.
‘No thanks, Captain, I’m doing quite well on my own.’
‘The hell you are, Hunter!’ the captain said calmly. ‘Since Wilson’s death what have you been doing, office work and helping the LAPD with shoplifting and petty theft cases? Gimme a goddamn break. Anyway, you knew this was coming. Who did you think you were, Dirty Harry? Look, Hunter, I’m not gonna give you the bullshit speech about how great a detective you are and how you’re wasting your talent. You’re the best detective I’ve had under my command. You can figure things out that no one else can. Sixth sense, detective’s intuition, whatever you wanna call it; you’ve got it like no one else does. I need you back in Homicide and I need you sharp. You know I can’t have a Homicide dick on the streets on his own, it’s against regulations. You’re no use to me the way you are.’
‘And how’s that, Captain?’ Hunter shot back in a half-offended tone.
‘Have a look in the mirror and you’ll find out.’
‘So you gonna pair me up with a rookie?’ He turned to face Garcia. ‘No offense.’
‘None taken.’
‘We were all rookies once, Hunter,’ the captain said running his fingers over his Santa Claus mustache. ‘You sound just like Scott did when I told him I was getting him a new partner. He hated your guts at first remember? You were young and inexperienced . . . and just look at how you turned out.’
Garcia bit his lip trying not to laugh.
Hunter regarded him once again. ‘Oh, you think this is funny?’
Garcia tilted his head in a maybe gesture.
‘Tell me, what sort of experience do you have?’ Hunter asked.
‘I’ve been a detective for the LAPD for two years,’ Garcia replied cheekily.
‘Oh, a local boy.’
Garcia nodded.
‘Why are you so nervous?’
‘Who said I’m nervous?’ Garcia said defiantly.
Hunter gave Captain Bolter a confident smile. ‘The knot on your tie is too tight, but instead of loosing it up you keep on faintly rotating your neck hoping no one will notice. When you tried to shake my hand earlier, I noticed how moist your palm was. This room ain’t hot enough, so I’m guessing nervous perspiration. And since I walked into the office you keep on shifting your weight from one leg to the other. You either have a lower back problem or you’re feeling a little uncomfortable. And since you wouldn’t make detective