The Tin Man by Dale Brown Read Free Book Online

get whatever he can for himself. The President promises a hundred thousand more cops on the streets, but after four years Sacramento gets half of what we were promised because the city can’t come up with the matching funds. After the North Hollywood shootout, they promise us more automatic weapons, better armor, better communications equipment, more training. We haven’t seen shit. My guys handle twenty percent more calls per hour than they did last year, but when I go to headquarters, I see all my guys sitting at desks writing memos or making slides for some presentation the chief is going to make on yet another trip to Washington. It sucks, Tom. Patrol is taking it in the ass again, as usual.”
    “ ‘If you ain’t Patrol, you ain’t shit’—is that what you think, Cargo?” Chandler asked. “All other police work is a waste, right?”
    “No,” LaFortier shot back. “But sworn officers to work a truancy task force, or a graffiti task force, or a ‘traffic-signal dodger’ task force? Give me a break.I need guys on Patrol, not giving speeches in front of the garden clubs on how we shouldn’t try to beat yellow traffic lights. Do away with all the bullshit, Tom, that’s all I’m saying.”
    “The chief comes down here to congratulate the new rookies, and you gotta dump all this shit on him with the whole place listening in,” Chandler said, shaking his head. “Real smart. Makes you wonder why the graveyard-shift roster will permanently have your name on it.”
    “You better get going, Captain—master’s waiting for someone to open the door for him,” LaFortier said acidly.
    Chandler shook his head in exasperation. “Even the solid cops turn bitter after a while, I guess,” he said, then turned up the collar on his overcoat and left.
    LaFortier finished his drink with a quick toss. “At least my ass is out on the street where it belongs, not sitting in a country club playing footsie with the mayor,” he said half-aloud. To Paul he said, “Tomorrow evening, be at the South Station by eight, ready for inspection, and we’ll go over a few things. Thanks for the party, Mr. McLanahan.” LaFortier lumbered off.
    “Sheesh, he’s a big guy. They make bulletproof vests big enough for him?” Patrick deadpanned.
    “Oh yes,” Paul responded. “He looks like a big blue billboard.” He grinned. “Mr. McLanahan,” he mimicked. “Sounds like you’re an old fart, bro.”
    “I
am
an old fart, bro,” Patrick said. “But I can still kick your ass.”
    “Have another; drink, bro—you’ll stay in fantasy-land longer,” Paul shot back.
    But Wendy’s face was serious. “What do you think about all this going on between the cops and the chief and the city, Paul?” she asked.
    “I don’t think about it,” Paul replied. “Budget cuts aré a way of life, but officer safety is never being compromised. Tensions will always exist, but the City and the chief always support the troops.” He smiled reassuringly, then put his arms ground Wendy’s and Patrick’s waists. “It means a lot that you came up here from San Diego. I know the docs probably told you not to travel. You’re due next week, aren’t you, Wendy?”
    “Not for almost three weeks. And unless I was confined to bed, Paul, we weren’t going to miss your graduation. Besides, the boss flew into town, so we were able to hop a ride on the corporate jet. We head back tomorrow afternoon.”
    “Worked out perfectly then,” Paul said. Wendy gave him a kiss and scooped up more shot glasses and beer mugs. Paul turned to his brother. “Wendy looks great, and so do you. San Diego must agree with you.”
    “Yep, it’s great,” Patrick said. “Seventy-two degrees and mostly sunny every day. We love it.”
    “We didn’t hear much from you for a while there. It seemed like you dropped off the face of the earth last spring. Lot going on at work?”
    “Yes.” Patrick wasn’t about to tell his brother that he had been busy flying secret attack