“You’ve got to play his game by his rules,” I said. “He’s like a bully in a schoolyard. Either you stand up to him or he kills you, piece by piece, day by day.”
Her voice trembled, from anger, fear, or both. “How the fuck do I stand up to
“Start showing him you mean what you say.”
She shivered, drawing my coat tight around her neck. “A week ago I’d never heard of the goddamn man. Now he’s got control of my life.”
“Take it back.”
“You keep saying that. I’m sick of it. It’s easy for you to say.”
“I didn’t say it was easy. But it may be your only choice.”
“Then tell me, please, what exactly do you want me to do?”
“Show some guts, Barbara. Maybe it’ll get you killed, but how do you know this won’t?”
I got her some more coffee. She had gulped the cup and it seemed to be doing her some good. Her shivers had subsided and in another minute she let my coat hang loose on her shoulders.
“For starters,” I said, “if he ever touches you again, get the cops involved. Don’t just hang up because I’m not there. I’m a homicide cop; you don’t need me here unless he kills you. There are other cops who handle this kind of stuff. I’ll give you some names; I’ll grease the skids downtown so you’ll get priority treatment. In other words, I’ll do what I can.”
She shook her head.
“Look, you had a start on him this morning, then you let him get away. He raped you. What you should’ve done right then was go to the hospital. Swear out a warrant. Let him cool his heels in jail for a few hours. Take him to Denver District Court. Take him all the way. If you get one of those lemon-suckers on the bench, he gets off. But at least he knows you’re ready to play hardball.”
“Which means I go to the morgue next time.”
“Or maybe there won’t be a next time. I’ve got a theory about our friend Jackie. If you show a white flag, he’ll tear you to pieces. Jackie takes no prisoners: he loves to take on people who won’t fight back. If you do fight, he’ll give you a hard look before he comes back again.”
“I think you’re wrong. I think he takes it very personally when you fight. I think he’s going to kill you for what you did to him today.”
“I’m not gonna argue with you. I didn’t become a cop because of my grades in psych. You asked me what to do and I told you. Rack his ass if he blinks at you twice. Get yourself a restraining order and then the cops can bust him if he doesn’t leave you alone. That’s the first step.”
“And the last. Oh, Christ, you can’t protect me.”
“We can try. We can do the best we can do.”
“Then what? You can’t take me by the hand and walk me to work. You can’t sleep with me…”
We looked at each other. She said, “What if you do the best you can do and it still isn’t good enough? What do I do then, challenge him to a duel? Quit my job and leave my friends and start over in another state?”
“I got no guarantees, ma’am. All I can do is tell you this— I’m on your side and so is the police department. We got a guy out there who thinks he’s one tough cowboy. Our job is to show him he isn’t. There are many ways of doing this, and some of them you don’t need to know about.”
She took a deep breath. “It’s really bad between you two, isn’t it?”
I gave her my sour little smile in return.
I told her I’d be back in a minute. I had looked out the window and seen that Jackie Newton was now hard at work on his flat tire. I didn’t want him to leave without saying goodbye.
I went down and sat on the coping and watched him work.
Jackie was into his silent act. It was supposed to be intimidating, and I guess it was. He knew I was there: I could tell by the way he breathed. He had scraped his hand and blood had oozed out between his knuckles.
I started a running line of chatter, thinking it would annoy him.
“I sure wouldn’t leave a car like that on the street,” I said pleasantly. “You never know when you’ll come back and find a door kicked in.”
He grunted over his lugs. I heard them squeak as he jerked on the lug wrench.
“There’re gangs around who do stuff like that,” I said. “Just bash up expensive automobiles.”
His lugs squeaked.
