The Last Case

Chapter 8

I don’t remember much about the ride back to Central Police HQ. A flurry of activity surrounded the house on New Mars Terrace. Ambulances, fire suppression trucks, patrol cars, and community management officers all arrived to help control the area. People stood outside their homes and watched the commotion. I didn’t pay attention to any of it.

They took Greyson in an ambulance, but they weren’t going to the hospital. I rode with him. Central Police has their own medical facilities, so that’s where we headed. I think Lucy was there when we left, but I stopped paying attention once the paramedics started to patch me up.

They told me something had hit me, probably a piece of glass or other shrapnel. It made a ten inch slice that somehow managed to miss most of the important parts, but was bleeding in a significant enough way that they had to hook me up to an IV half way to headquarters. They said more, but I was too busy staring at the body of my friend. He was covered with a thin white plastic sheet. It was translucent enough that I was able to look at outline of face. It was hard to see him like that. I’d known him since I was very young. He was my father’s best friend. He was the one who supported me for the force, and was the one that sponsored my emigration to Hale. Without him, I wouldn’t be here.

Without me, he wouldn’t be there, on a gurney, covered in white plastic.

I tried to push that thought from my mind but it wouldn’t budge.

There was a lot of activity in the emergency bay when we arrived at headquarters. I saw familiar faces swarming around when they wheeled me out of the ambulance. They all left me alone though. That was good. My head was still pounding, ears still ringing, and although I knew I was going to have to provide an account of what happened, I was glad that they didn’t get right into it.

While they rushed me to the medical ward down on the first basement, there was talk of blood transfusions, low blood pressure, liquid bandages not holding, and a general urgency that I wasn’t expecting. I wondered why it was so cold. I lost consciousness in the elevator.

Nouvelle was standing beside me when I reopened my eyes. I recognized the room as one of the small recovery rooms attached to the HCP’s medical wing. I tried to sit up and felt the uncomfortable remnants of the wound in my side stinging me. The lights were low in the room. This was a good thing. Even the smallest light was causing my head to bloom with pain.

“Easy, Felix,” said Nouvelle. She reached down and pressed a button on the side of the bed and it smoothly changed shape to help me into a sitting position.

“What happened?” I asked.

“There was an explosion,” she said. I remembered that, but it felt like she had prepared this, so I didn’t say anything. “Captain Greyson and patrol officer Inman were killed in the explosion. A third officer, Tad Wells, lost both of his legs, but he survived. Your friend, the nanny, was instrumental in saving Tad’s life.”

I rested my head back against the pillow and shut my eyes tight. If it weren’t for me, then Greyson-no.

“They were covering their tracks,” I said. I opened my eyes and looked back at Nouvelle. “Whoever is behind this is out there tying up loose ends.”

“That’s what it looks like,” said Nouvelle. She looked exhausted. I wondered how many death notifications she had to provide today. “Recovery teams weren’t able to find any useful evidence at the scene. Your friend Mahoney doesn’t know much either, and his two goons are threatening to sue the department for brutality. I’m not too concerned about that right now, though.”

“His phone,” I said. “He got a call while-”

Nouvelle cut me off. “We traced it. The call originated from the house on New Mars Terrace, or at least it was close enough to reasonably think that it was sent from there. We’ve gone over Greyson’s radio logs and it seems pretty clear that this crew was using it as a base of operations. According to our techs, the bomb was triggered the second Greyson opened that door.”