Nocturnal

Zou Talks to Bryan

Bryan stood on the sidewalk of Potrero Avenue, watching Pookie stare at the Buick’s driver’s-side window. Streetlight gleamed against the cracks in the glass, lit up the tentacle-like sprawl of beer tendrils that had dried in place.

“Awesome,” Pookie said. “You know, sometimes when people borrow my car, they get it washed and leave me with a full tank of gas. But this? This is so much better.”

“I said I was sorry. I’ll pay for it.”

“With what, food stamps? We’re fired, remember?”

Bryan rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “Really, man? I think we’ve got more important things to worry about than the window of your POS Buick.”

Pookie shrugged. “Yeah, we do. Like the two hundred bucks you owe me for my trip to Oakland.”

“You thought I was in Oakland?”

“Did I mention, I looked everywhere? Why, yes, yes I think I did mention that.”

“But two hundred dollars?”

“I took a cab,” Pookie said. “You know how I hate public transportation. Kinda the reason I bought a car, know what I’m saying?”

Pookie didn’t get pissed that often, but when he did he didn’t stop talking about it. He wanted — and deserved — an apology. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call you, okay?”

Pookie nodded. “Apology accepted, but too bad you’re not talking to your dad — I’d have him ground you for trashing my ride.”

Pookie Chang, lone resident of No-Subject-Is-Off-Limits Land.

“That man is not my father.”

“And I’m not chubby,” Pookie said. “Amazing how we can just wish things into existence.”

“With what I’m going through, are you really going to go there? Now?”

Pookie shrugged. “You need to get over it. I think you’ve filled your quota for feeling sorry for yourself.”

“Feeling sorry for myself? You jackass, I’m a goddamn mutant or whatever.”

Pookie used his jacket sleeve to wipe at the dried-beer tentacles. “So you got an extra chromosome. It’s not like you got cancer, Bro. It is what it is, so accept it and let’s move on.”

Maybe Bryan should have done this solo after all. Only Pookie could reduce being a mutant, finding out your entire childhood had been a lie and tracking down serial killers that were actually your half-brothers to just get over it.

Pookie stopped wiping at the cracked window. He turned to stare at Bryan. “You thinking you should ditch me? For my safety, maybe?”

Bryan looked down at the sidewalk. He hated it when his partner did that.

Pookie feathered back his hair. “Forget it, my Young Rebel Detective. No one wants a show about a loner cop. I told you I’m down for the gunfight. You’re stuck with me. Agreed?”

Bryan looked up. Before he could answer, Pookie pointed down the sidewalk.

“Uh-oh,” he said. “Here come da judge.”

Bryan followed Pookie’s gaze and saw Amy Zou walking quickly toward them, dress blues pressed, hat positioned perfectly on her head.

“She doesn’t seem happy,” Pookie said.

“Does she ever?”

“No,” he said. “Should we make a run for it?”

“Too late. And I’ve got a few things I want to hear from her.” Bryan crossed his arms, leaned against the black station wagon and tried to look disrespectful. He wasn’t sure how to do that — maybe he’d have to get some lessons from Adam.

She stopped in front of them. “Clauser,” she said. “Chang.”

“Chief,” Bryan said.

“MILFy woman who fired my ass,” Pookie said.

Zou ignored the comment. “Clauser, we need to talk. Alone.”

Bryan looked at Pookie. Pookie shook his head slightly. Even if Bryan wanted the man gone, he wouldn’t go anywhere.

“Pookie stays, Chief,” Bryan said. “Anything you want to say to me you can say in front of my partner.”

“Life partner,” Pookie said. “But only for tax purposes. Oh, and the Bed Bath and Beyond registry.”

Zou turned her humorless stare on Pookie. She held it until he looked away. She turned back to Bryan. “Alder told me that you’re one of them.”

She said it with such a matter-of-fact tone. Zou was right, and so was Robin; he was one of them.

“I don’t understand any of it, Chief. I have no idea what’s happening and it’s freaking me out.”

“But you came to the hospital,” she said. “Why?”

Bryan looked at Pookie, who just shrugged.

Bryan nodded to the building beyond the brick wall. “We put Erickson in there. Alder said Marie’s Children might come for him, so we’re here to protect him if we can.”

“I have a full SWAT in and on that building,” she said. “They have Erickson’s floor on lockdown. Marie’s Children are hard to find, sure, but it’s a different battle if they have to come to us.”

She stared at him. Bryan stared back. She seemed to be sizing him up. He wasn’t in the mood for whatever power game she wanted to play.

“Look,” he said, “we were just trying to do the right thing.”

The hardness around her eyes faded. Now she was the one to turn away. “I know that feeling. This time, maybe we’ll fix the damage you caused before the really bad shit starts.” She met his eyes again. “At least now you guys understand what has to be done.”

“Yes and no,” Pookie said. “You can’t keep this a secret forever. People need to know what’s going on. The victims’ families deserve to know what happened to their loved ones.”

“Their loved ones died,” Zou said. “Knowing what killed them won’t bring them back. What do you want, Chang? Do you want to tell the world that San Francisco has a killer cult, or that it has real-live monsters?”

“Both,” Pookie said. “People need to know that there’s something out there that can kill them.”

“No, they don’t need to know. When a killer shows up, Erickson puts it down.”

Pookie threw up his hands. “Are you insane? If you don’t make this public, more people could die.”

“People die every day,” Zou said. “That’s life in the big city. We’re talking two, maybe three murders a year on average.”

“On average? Those are human beings!”

“In San Francisco proper, eight hundred people a year get hit by cars,” she said. “Twenty of those accidents end in death, give or take, and then you have life-changing injuries, but do we take out the roads and make everyone walk because traffic is dangerous?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Pookie said. “You can’t compare shit like that.”

“Really? Well, can I compare apples to apples? Or should I say, murders to murders? We had fifty murders in San Francisco last year, forty-five the year before that and ninety-four three years ago. Most of those killings were gang related. So we know gangs kill far more people than Marie’s Children, yet we don’t get rid of the gangs.”

Her logic was faulty, fractured. Bryan couldn’t understand her reasoning. “Chief, we’re talking about serial killers. Monsters. We’re talking about the public’s right to know. The public knows about traffic deaths and people stay. Fine. Same for the gang activity. Fine with that, too. They don’t know about Marie’s Children.”

She shook her head as if Bryan and Pookie just couldn’t understand the obvious. “Sure, we tell the public,” she said. “And that makes property values plummet.”

Property values? Why would she say that? What did a cop care about property values? What wasn’t she telling them?

Bryan heard Chief Zou’s cell phone buzz. She pulled it out of her pocket and read.

She looked up at Bryan. “I’ve got to take care of something. Don’t go anywhere. We’ll talk about this later.”

Pookie raised his hand like a schoolkid in class. “Uh, Chief? Does this mean we have our jobs back? Maybe with a couple of accoutrements known as a badge and a gun?”

She looked at Pookie, but this time without her trademark cold stare. Then she looked at Bryan. She sighed and shook her head as if she’d already made a decision she knew she’d regret. She looked up at the darkening sky.

“I’ll get you back on the rolls tomorrow,” she said. “For now, I’ll let the watch sergeant know you can enter the hospital. And move your cars into the parking lot; we’ve got space allotted for police vehicles. You don’t have to sit out on the street all night.”

She turned and walked away, the phone clutched tightly in her right hand.

Bryan let out a sigh of relief. He had his job back, but more important, so did the friend who seemed willing to stand by his side no matter what.

And Chief Zou … that ridiculous logic of hers. Property values? He’d talk to her about that later. For the moment, however, he was a cop again, and his primary duty was to protect Jebediah Erickson from any harm.