Free Dark Moonlighting by Scott Haworth Page A

had grown accustomed to changing
my accent every decade or so. It really was not that hard to do, so
I always found The Chief’s voice to be perplexing.
    “We’ve got reports that a new shipment of
cocaine is being distributed around,” The Chief said as he scanned
over a few sheets of paper. “McMillan & Wife Construction
reported a theft of copper wire last night. That makes three thefts
in as many weeks so pay close attention to any industrial sites in
your patrol area. What else? Oh, Governor Kojak has offered a free
steak dinner to any officer who manages to take down The Urinator.
Apparently he doesn’t think all the murders are incentive enough to
find this guy. Well, if you happen to stumble across The Urinator
feel free to, uh, shoot him in the face I suppose.”
    The briefing room filled with laughter at the
absurdity of the situation. My laugh was the loudest in the
room.
    “All right, we’re screwing with the patrol
routes again because of that dumbass policy they rammed down my
throat three months ago. Isles and Rizzoli you’ve got sector A.
Benson and Stabler take sector B. Tubbs take your rookie to sector
C—”
    “Polk Heights?” Officer Tubbs asked
diplomatically. “You don’t think it’s a little early to be taking
the rook out there, Chief?”
    “No I don’t,” The Chief answered flatly.
“He’s been on the force almost two weeks now, he’s overdue to fight
off a junkie with a dirty needle,” he added with a cruel smile.
“Friday and Gannon you’re on D. Lacey and Cagney you’re on E. Last,
and possibly least, Johnson and Whittier are on sector F. That’s it
people, let’s roll.”
    The assembled officers grabbed their cups of
coffee and filed out of the briefing room unenthusiastically.
Jasmine and I were almost out the door when The Chief stopped us in
our tracks.
    “Hey, Johnson. I almost forgot, come here a
minute,” The Chief shouted abrasively.
    “Yes’m. I be coming right away for you
mister,” Jasmine started as she turned back into the room. “I sure
don’t want no trouble. I just wanna be a good house nig—”
    “Whittier, what are you doing? I don’t need
you,” The Chief said, completely ignoring Jasmine’s persona.
    Much to The Chief’s annoyance, I looked
towards Jasmine for confirmation. She nodded her appreciation
before motioning towards the door. I made a quick pit stop in the
bathroom before exiting the station and taking a seat on the trunk
of our police cruiser. Jasmine met me at the car a few minutes
later.
    “Sexual harassment complaint?” I guessed.
    “No, Mr. Smarty Pants,” Jasmine answered with
a fake sneer. “The prick informed me that I volunteered to lead a
diversity seminar. Apparently it’s because I’m the only thing
resembling diversity at this station.”
    “That’s not true,” I said feigning offense.
“I’m pretty sure Officer Willows is 1/64th Cherokee.”
    Jasmine shoved me off the trunk of the
cruiser and walked towards the driver’s side. “Could be worse I
suppose. Look at poor Crockett. He’s probably going to get shot
before sunrise.”
    “Oh, he won’t get shot. Might get stabbed
though,” I argued as I opened the passenger door.
    “You’re going to be a wonderful partner and
come offer your moral support when I do this diversity presentation
next week, right?” Jasmine whimpered.
    “Hell no,” I answered immediately. “Not
unless you do the whole thing in your Mammy voice.”
    “Deal,” she agreed with a smile.
     
    It was a short drive to our patrol area. We
had patrolled all of 200 feet of our designated sector when Jasmine
pulled the police cruiser into an all-night convenience store. This
practice had become standard operating procedure only a few weeks
after we became partners. We liked to joke that we took our first
break as soon as we started. Although she was accustomed to the
night shift, Jasmine still required coffee to keep her senses
finely tuned. I had no need for the stimulant effect