He was running late for work, and hoped he could get through this traffic quickly.
Captain Stanley was a stickler for being on time. He had threatened to suspend his partner the last time he had been late. As he pulled into the parking lot behind the station, he glanced at his watch. Two minutes to spare! He hurried inside and joined the others in the kitchen.
“Hey, Roy, cutting it a little close, aren’t you?” asked Chet Kelly, checking the time.
“Yeah, I had a flat on the way to work,” he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“I hope your partner has a better excuse than that,” remarked Captain Hank Stanley, as he walked into the room. Roy turned to look at the Captain, and saw that he did not seem to be in a very good mood. Damn, Johnny, he thought, you sure picked a bad day to be late!
Fifteen minutes later, Gage still hadn’t arrived. Roy had called his house, and got no answer, so he was probably on his way. But Stanley was getting more angry with every minute that passed, and still no John Gage. Fifteen minutes turned into thirty.. and thirty into forty-five. This wasn’t like Johnny, thought Roy. Where the hell was he?
Roy stood in front of Captain Stanley’s office door. “Cap?” asked Roy cautiously. Hank looked up as Roy entered the office.
The alarm tones sounded. “Station 51. Man down, 1535 Peterborough Street, Apt 6B. Cross street Medina. Time-out 0850.”
Roy closed his eyes briefly, and hustled to the Squad as Captain Stanley acknowledged the call. Roy took the slip of paper and handed it to Dwyer, who had stayed late to cover.
Mike Stoker looked at the address as Captain Stanley closed the Engine door. “Hey, Cap, isn’t that Johnny’s place?”
Hank slid into his turnout coat as the rig pulled into traffic. “Yeah, Mike,” sighed Hank, “that’s Gage’s apartment. I wonder what he’s gotten himself into this time.”
###
Roy parked the Squad outside of the apartment building and quickly retrieved the drug box and biophone from their compartments. Dwyer grabbed the oxygen and they headed towards the building. The Landlord held the door open for them. Roy saw Johnny’s Land Rover parked in its usual spot, which made him cringe. A Police car was parked in front of the building. Roy heard the sound of glass breaking and looked towards the noise. A few feet away, he saw a shiny, black Land Rover. He and Dwyer looked on as petite woman, dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, smashed the driver’s side window with a heavy wooden baseball bat. The windshield was already smashed, as well as the front headlights and tail lights. The woman stopped swinging when she spotted Roy.
“Uh-oh.” whispered Dwyer.
“Good morning, Roy!” shouted the woman as she waved. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?” She picked up the bat and broke the driver’s side rear window.
“She knows you Roy!” hissed Dwyer. “Who is she?”
“Good morning, Theresa! It is a lovely morning,” Roy hollered at the woman. A flash of recognition passed over him. “That’s one of Johnny’s neighbors.” Roy walked into the building. “She’s one half of the couple that had their argument while I tried to sleep on Johnny’s couch that time.”
“That poor car.” Dwyer shook his head. “It looks brand new.”
They took the elevator to the sixth floor. Doors to Johnny’s apartment, and his neighbor’s apartment were open. Roy knocked on Johnny’s door and walked across the threshold. Roy and Dwyer were speechless. Broken lamps and glass pieces from a shattered mirror littered the apartment. Sofa cushions were strewn on the floor. Some of the cushions had been cut, and upholstery foam spilled from the fabric. A butcher knife stuck out of a throw pillow. The telephone had been pulled from the wall. The small kitchen table lay on its edge, the chairs overturned.
“Aye caremba!” whispered Marco as he entered the apartment.
Captain Stanley and Chet bumped into Roy. “Good Lord, what happened here?” Captain Stanley said as he surveyed the trashed apartment.
“I don’t know, Cap,” replied Roy. “Johnny?” he asked tentatively.
“Back here!” Johnny’s voice echoed from a back room.
“I’m really, really sorry about this, Johnny.” Roy heard a second man’s voice.
Roy sighed in relief as he stepped over the broken glass. The rear of the apartment was undamaged. Johnny was in the bathroom, holding a piece of a T-shirt to his neighbor, Matt’s, bleeding forehead. Blood oozed from cuts on John’s forearms and there was a minor cut on his forehead. There were dark circles under his eyes.
Matt sat on the toilet. He had a black eye and held a compress to his bleeding nose. His respiratory rate was a little fast, and a little shallow. Vince finished speaking into his portable radio, and wrote something in his notebook.
“That must have been some party, huh Gage?” asked Chet.
John gave Chet a very dirty look.
“What in God’s name, happened?” asked Captain Stanley.
“They started arguing, again, last night,” answered Johnny in a tone that barely concealed his anger. “Around three, they took a short break, then started up again around six.” John shook his head. “Between the yelling and breaking glass, I couldn’t sleep. I almost spent the night in my truck.”
Roy set up the equipment and handed a pressure dressing to Johnny. John dropped the bloody cloth into a garbage can and taped the dressing to Matt’s head. Roy contacted Rampart and relayed a set of vitals.
“What was the argument about?” asked Hank.
“My wife Emily and I agreed to buy a new car this year,” answered Matt. “The old one kept breaking down and we didn’t want to put any more money into it. Our 5th anniversary was yesterday, and I figured I’d surprise her with a new car.”
“Sounds like a nice present,” Chet said.
Hank shook his head. “Not always, Chet. Women like to be involved in buying the big stuff.”
“Exactly. I always liked Johnny’s car, and thought I’d get one just like it,” Matt continued. “That one was on the lot, and I fell in love with it on the spot. Well, it cost a bit more than I expected. I was a little short, but we had money saved in our vacation fund, so I used it.”
“Uh-oh,” Captain Stanley said.
Chet raised his eyebrows and locked eyes with Johnny.
“I bought mine used,” muttered Johnny.
“I drove it home and wrapped the keys in a small box,” said Matt. “I gave them to her after dinner. I thought she’d be happy, but after she finished crying, she got really pissed off. Turns out, she’d gone to the bank and discovered the money had been withdrawn. We had talked about going to St. Thomas, or Barbados for a week, but never finalized anything.”
“So she expected plane tickets to the Caribbean,” said Hank.
“Yeah.” said Matt. He winced as Roy started an IV. “She stayed on the couch last night and polished off the bottle of champagne I brought home for dinner. I got up to go to the bathroom, and we had words again. She was pretty drunk.”
“That’s an understatement,” muttered Gage as he bandaged the other cuts.
“I’ve never seen her get like that,” Matt shook his head. “It was like she was possessed or something. She just started smashing stuff, left and right.” Matt shook his head and looked at the Captain. “She said her therapist told her to let out her aggression, instead of bottling it up inside. Then, she grabbed the butcher knife.”
Chet winced. “Looks like the therapist forgot to tell her a few things.”
“She started chasing me around the room, cutting open the mattress, the pillows, anything I touched. I tried to wrestle the knife from her, but, obviously, it didn’t work. I finally got a clear path to the door and made a break for it. Thank God Johnny had just opened his door, or she would have killed me!”
“I couldn’t take it any more,” said John. “I took a shower, and was going to come in early, just to get peace and quiet. Just as I opened my door, Matt comes barreling in, yelling ‘she’s got a knife, hide me!’ He dove behind the sofa as Terry ran in, yelling, ‘I know you’re hiding that bastard!’ Gage raised his voice, imitating Matt’s wife. “This is all your fault! You and that stupid truck you own! You...You...man!’ He returned his voice to normal pitch. “Then she swung the knife at me! As you could probably tell, the sofa took the worst of it. After she couldn’t get the knife out of the pillow, she headed straight for the fridge and grabbed a beer. I grabbed Matt and we locked ourselves in here.”
Chet shook his head. “I never thought I’d see the day when Johnny Gage actually ran away from a woman.”
“Shut up, Chet!” growled Johnny. “We could hear the sound of glass breaking for a few minutes. Then we couldn’t hear anything. I came out and found the rest of the mess, but no sign of Terry. I also couldn’t find my baseball bat. I met Vince in the hallway, and we searched Matt’s apartment. He called for you guys, and I started patching Matt up. I still don’t know where she went.”
The ambulance attendants helped Matt onto the stretcher, as Dwyer packed the equipment. “We saw her, on the way in,” he said.
“What was she doing?” asked Matt. “Did she take the truck?”
“No, not exactly,” said Roy. He fumbled for a way to break the news to Matt.
Dwyer broke the news. “She did a Babe Ruth on your windshield, and looked like she was going to hit for the cycle with the windows.”
Matt’s face fell. “My poor baby! My poor car!” A tear rolled down Matt’s face. “I guess it’s all over between me and my little Pookie-bear.”
“Maybe you should get counseling?” suggested Captain Stanley. The attendants and Dwyer moved the stretcher through the bathroom door, and brushed past Ed Spencer, another Police Officer on the way out of the apartment.
“We have the perp in custody, Vince,” said Ed. “She’s in the back of my car, giggling. I think we need to take her to Rampart for a psych eval.”
“Sound like she needs to be detoxed,” replied Vince.
“Yeah, that too.” Ed shook his head. “When we got to her, she’d finished the black car, and had started on the white Land Rover that’s out there.”
Johnny turned pale. “What did she do to that one?”
“She just nailed the tail lights and was starting on the headlights when we got her. She took out a passenger side window before we subdued her.”
John sighed and looked miserable.
Captain Stanley put his hands on his hips. “Grab a bucket, Chet, and start getting rid of this broken glass. Marco, lets try to do something with this sofa. John, why don’t you go to Rampart and get those cuts looked at. We’ll clean up on this end. Roy can bring you back in the Squad. Better call your insurance agent.”
John nodded. “Thanks, Cap.” Johnny’s landlord stood in the doorway.
“I am not renewing my lease,” said John evenly.
“I can find you a different apartment, if you want,” said the landlord. “You’re a good tenant, and handy to have around in an emergency.”
“No, thanks anyway,” replied Johnny. “I want to put as much space between me and the Bickersons as humanly possible.”
The landlord nodded. “I’d like to get rid of them, too, but his uncle owns the building.”
“So, you’re stuck with them,” said Hank.
“Yeah,” replied the landlord. “Johnny, if you’re interested, I know where you can find a place for about the same rent.”
“Where?” asked Johnny cautiously.
“Not too far away from here. It’s a small building, a little older than this one, but the apartments are pretty nice,” said the landlord. “It’s owner-occupied, and the owners are a very nice older couple named Meyers. I’m sure they’d love to have you. I’ll give you their address.”