Rangers Apprentice AU-Police Force

Episode 4 part 3

  Almost snatching the cloth, Will straightened, and stared at his find with quickening heartbeat. The dog had apparently bit the thief and taken a piece of his pant leg with her when he kicked her loose. It wasn't very large, but from the feel he guessed it to be a cheaper sort of cloth. The gray strands had hints of purple woven through them, which would make it a little easier to look for. Halt needed to see this. He excused himself from the lady and her dog, just as Halt and the other officer stepped out.

  "Halt!" His partner shot him a keen gaze as he approached. His eyes lighting up as they fell on the thing Will held out in his hand.

 "Found this. The dog took a bite of our thief and he left this behind."

Without commenting, Halt took up the cloth and studied it interestedly.  "Did she? Good dog." He handed it back to Will, with a grunt. "A small thing but we know a little more of his personality, at any rate."

 Feeling deflated, Will took the evidence. He didn't know exactly what he had thought they could do with the cloth, and felt foolish for being so excited, in the face of Halt's calm disappointment. The sound of tires squealing to a stop behind them, drew their gaze and Will pocketed the cloth quickly while he had the chance. When he turned around, though, he didn't feel much better.

 Two men exited a beat up car, camera's and baggage in tow. The tall, brown haired one spotted Will and smirked. "Another successful heist, huh Treaty? How much did he get away with?"

 The man with Horace raised his lens and snapped a picture. "Enough with the attempted humor, Horace. Get to work and be professional."

  A little abashed, Horace nodded. "Yes, chief." He passed them, exchanging sidelong glances with Will on his way in. As if their day couldn't get any worse, Will thought, looking to where Halt was glowering at the newsman. All Crowley needed, was another article to read on his desk, and another phone call from the mayor. He had a feeling this was in Halt's mind, and was the only thing keeping him from blowing his stack at the moment. "Is this necessary, Rodney?"

  The man tugged on his fedora, almost apologetically. "I have to keep the news of the city, Halt. But don't worry. My boys don't write that tabloid stuff; we'll keep it true to the facts." Flipping a notebook from his pocket, he went to talk with the lady of the house, who had snagged another officer to listen to her story. Halt growled. "Let's go. We can't do anything else here."

  More than happy to leave, Will beat Halt to the patrol car, and watched the house fade in the distance with a feeling of relief. Drumming his fingers on his knee, he thought about the robberies. Something bothered him. "Halt?"

  There was an answering grunt, which he took as a good sign to continue. "I have a question," he ventured.

 Halt sighed. "You usually do." They turned off into traffic and he added, "Go ahead."

 "Well. " Now that he had to ask, Will struggled to find the right way to say it. Sometimes a candid question is better than a roundabout discussion, a voice from his memories whispered. He smiled briefly. "Well, why do you think Morgarath is behind this?"

  "So you heard Gilan, did you," Halt said dryly. "I suspect Morgarath, always." When Will wrinkled his forehead, he sighed.  "You have to have known Morgarath, to know why I would suspect him."

 There was something else, Will didn't understand. "The first day I started here," he said, "you told me to watch out for him or his men all the time. But-"

 "Go on. You heard he's dead, so why am I not believing it."

 Will felt his face grow warm. Somehow it was a little unnerving to work with a man who knew almost constantly, what you were about to say or what you were thinking. And he had worried Halt might think he doubted him, when he asked this. "I, uh, heard Jerry talking in the breakroom one day."

 "He does love to do that," Halt remarked. Suddenly they pulled to the curb, and he put the car into park. "I did tell you that, Will, because I don't believe he's dead. His ring is still working, every now and then I see the tell-tale sign. " Looking into the distance, Halt pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I should start at the beginning. When I was a rookie," he continued," Morgarath was a big boss. And it was a long, hard battle between us and him, with him constantly struggling to gain control of the position he longed for most. Mayor. With the city under his thumb, he would have become a tyrant."

 Cars passed them slowly, their motors a constant drumming noise that blended as Will listened intently. He felt if he said anything now, it would break the flow of Halt's talk and he would never hear it again. 

 "But here's another thing that we were up against-his people loved him. Well," Halt amended, "They served him with a blind devotion. In the slums, he was their king, a sort of self-professing Robin Hood; and he took care of many, many people in those streets until they were blinded to his dark side." Halt's face darkened. "They forgot that he had also used many of their poor backs to raise himself. After a long struggle we were able to pin him to a crime; an informant gave us a tip, and we raided the place. But he wasn't there. "

  Again silence stretched into a minute. "And then... we found him. He had withdrawn himself to the countryside, in a quiet farmhouse. They went to arrest him, but his remaining men fought us hard and long. We lost quite a few good men, that day. "

  In Will's minds eye he  picture the battle and imagined the sound of yammering machine guns. 

"Morgarath fled, being covered by those loyal men, but ran off of a bridge, his car sinking deep into Lake Michigan. He was presumed dead." The ending was abrupt, in typical Halt-fashion.

  "But you don't believe it."

Halt looked at Will and shook his head. "He's not. I got a card from him, a month after the ordeal. Congratulating me, on our temporary victory." Will blinked. There was more to this story than Halt was telling him, still. Why would Morgarath thank him personally? He sensed that O'Carrick had had more to do with Morgarath's arrest than he was letting others know, in his typical fashion.

 "I showed it to Crowley." Halt laughed shortly. "Poor Crowley, he was just promoted to Chief. He is trying to believe it was a prank from a revengeful follower of the gang. There have been plenty of those, causing trouble," he admitted. "But this was Morgarath's own handwriting." He jabbed a finger at the report book. "And as to this jewel thief, well I have a feeling that he's a collector for his leader. Which means, that Morgarath is slowly working to gaining his money and status that he lost for a few years. This man needs to be caught; if we're lucky, he'll spill. If not, well, we've at least put a kink in the boss man's scheming for awhile."

  Starting the car, they began to move out once more. Will, riding along in silence, processed the story. He had believed Halt, from the beginning, but it was uncomfortable to imagine a man, thwarted in his ultimate goal, nursing his wounds out there somewhere and plotting revenge. It was easy to see why the officers preferred to believe he had died in the lake. But then, Will frowned. That would be the ultimate mistake. While pretending, weren't they leaving the city widely unprotected? The lives of people were at stake, once the boss man rose to power again. He thought of the winding, twisted streets where few people traveled, where washing hung on the railing and children played baseball with homemade bats and balls. They needed a chance too.

 "Halt, I want to help you." In spite of his ending of the story, Will knew that the officer was investigating. He wanted to do his part. He wanted to protect the city.

 "I know you do, Treaty. But I can't let  you. This is something I have to do alone."

  The radio crackled, overriding Will's protest and absorbing Halt's attention. "Officer in pursuit, suspect is driving maroon sedan, license plate Ocean Ida twenty three."