Death and a Life in Emerald CoveChapter 18
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Death And A Life In Emerald CoveChapter 6 free porn video
All chattering ceased as Bryant entered the yard, accompanied by Charmaine and Allyson Granger. Forty sets of eyes turned to face the newcomers.
Bryant took an involuntary gulp as watched as Steve Curtis stepped up on a picnic table.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the man of the hour has arrived!" he stated. "Detective Bryant Hawkins has agreed to assume command of our newly created detective's bureau. It is the first step in turning Emerald Cove into the sort of city we all think it can be.
"Let me tell you a little about Chief Hawkins. He was a highly decorated detective in the Chicago Police Department until his recent retirement. He has solved close to 90 percent of his cases during his tenure as a detective and his commanding officer says he is one of the finest officers he has ever worked with. Before that, Chief Hawkins was a patrolman in one of the rougher neighborhoods in Chicago — again earning commendations for his performance. He is an honorably discharged member of the United States Army. In short, professionally, there is nothing that can happen in Emerald Cove that Chief Hawkins hasn't seen before. I have spoken to his colleagues in Chicago. They confirm my original judgment that he is the ideal man for this job."
There was a smattering of applause, as Bryant blushed slightly. He knew of his service record and he was proud of most of it. But to have it lain out like that was embarrassing.
Allyson nudged his hip. For a moment, his mind flashed back to better days — days when she would do or say some little thing to keep him from becoming too serious. He turned his head and gave her a small smile, which she returned.
"But as impressive as Bryant Hawkins is as a police officer, he left an even better impression on me as a person," Steve continued from his perch on the picnic table seat. "I have found him to be thoughtful before he speaks or acts."
"A welcomed change from our current chief," a voice rang out. There was nervous laughter from the crowd.
"Yes," Steve said, frowning slightly. "Anyway, I have heard glowing assessments about the character of the man behind the badge. In the past days, I have seen for myself that those assessments were true. I have seen Bryant put aside old grudges for the betterment of all. I have seen him admit his mistakes and revise his position on some matters. I have spoken to a couple members of our community who know him well. I have spoken to his friends in Chicago. Those conversations confirm my belief that he is also a man that we will welcome into our community with open arms."
"I give you, ladies and gentlemen, Bryant Hawkins, Chief of Detectives for the City of Emerald Cove, South Carolina."
The applause was louder this time and the assembled group turned to Bryant, clearly expecting him to say a few words. He was sorely unprepared and he wasn't much of a public speaker anyway. He realized the department would probably have to pony up for a media liaison.
"Uh, well, this is a little bigger gathering than I was expecting," Bryant started. "I guess I should start by telling you that I am humbled by the introduction Mr. Curtis offered. I've always tried to be the best police officer I could be. I'll be the first to admit that there have been times I've failed in that goal. But mostly, I think I succeeded. I promise to offer my best effort to the citizens of Emerald Cove. I know we have a long road ahead of us but I believe, as I think you all believe, that we have a good set of leaders to point the way."
He paused, then continued with, "But, all they can do is point the way. They can't force us to follow. The same is true with the police department. I understand that there is a section of the citizenry that is disenchanted with how that department has been run in recent years. I'm sorry to inform you that there will be a similarly sized group who will be unhappy with the changes that are coming."
"Yeah, the criminals!" a voice rang out.
"We can hope that the criminals will see the changes and move to new environs," Bryant said, smiling in spite of himself. He knew that usually wasn't the case and even if it were, there was a new batch of lowlifes to take the place of the departed. He paused before his next statement. "The face of police work has changed even in the sixteen years I've been doing it. I'm not sure that the changes were for the best. The local police departments have become front-line fighters in the battle against terrorism, in the fight against drugs and in a host of other undeclared wars. The local police officer has gone from being a man or woman you knew you could count on to becoming a paramilitary arm of the United States government.
"Like it or not, local law enforcement relies upon federal grants for most of its income. Sure, some comes from local taxes but not enough to sustain a police force the size of Emerald Cove. There are strings attached to every dollar the federal government doles out. Those strings often pit the local police officers against the very people they are supposed to protect."
He looked around the group. They all appeared to be slightly confused but listening intently.
"I'll give you an example," Bryant continued. "Almost every police department has a cruiser or two paid for by a federal grant designed to combat drinking and driving. I'm opposed to drinking and driving. Do not for a moment think that I am not. But in order to keep the grant money coming in, police departments — and prosecutors — have to secure a set number of DUI convictions each year. The local council had to establish a set policy on DUI enforcement and a set penalty for the crime. That punishment must include jail time. In some jurisdictions, it is twenty-four hours for a first offense. In others, it is five days for a first offense.
"It is mandatory jail time. No exception can be made for a stay-at-home mom who was out for a rare night on the town. No exception can be made for someone who has driven for thirty years and was right at the limit. The money we take to support crime prevention efforts ties our hands as to how we enforce the laws. I have surmised that, in the past, the laws of this city have applied more to some and less to others. That can't continue to happen. I have been informed that there are several issues that still need to be resolved. I just wanted to temper your enthusiasm and to point out that hiring me is not going to solve all your woes. There is still work to be done, and it won't be done overnight."
"You plan to cancel Christmas, next?" Allyson asked from Bryant's hip.
The group had resumed socializing but the mood was more subdued than when Bryant had entered.
"They thought I was a mixture of Wyatt Earp, Superman and Elliot Ness," Bryant grumbled. "Unless I said something they would have woken up tomorrow thinking every problem in the area would be gone just because I'm in town."
"You mean they won't be?" Allyson joked.
Once again, Bryant's thoughts landed on a time a dozen or so years earlier. Steve's approach brought him back from his trip down Memory Lane.
"Sorry, Bryant," he said. "I guess I got a little exuberant in my introduction. I just wanted to you to know that all of us are glad you're coming to work here. I mean that."
"I know you do, Steve," Bryant said. "And I'm glad to be coming here. But it's going to take a lot more than just me showing up to change the culture you have here."
Both Allyson and Steve shot a questioning glance at Bryant.
"Look, I'm from Chicago," Bryant said. It was unnecessary because they both knew where he lived. "It's the same here as it is there. The same as it is Los Angeles, Ally. Money buys justice. I can tell from that fat bastard down the street it is the exact same way here. Tell me it isn't."
Steve frowned and glanced at Allyson. She answered immediately.
"It is that exact way here, Bryant," she said. "Jonas and I prosecute them as equally as we can. That much has changed. A rich guy gets the same charges as a poor one. The new judge swears he will sentence them the same, too. The problem is..."
"Yeah, it's the same routine in Chicago," Bryant said, a scowl darkening his face. His voice took on an air of pomposity as he imitated a prosecutor. "'Well, Officer, Mr. Hotshot will have four high-priced lawyers on his defense team. I need something iron-clad before I can take this to court. We're going to plead his murder charge down to littering'."
"Bryant," Allyson began but Steve cut her off.
"It's that way everywhere," Steve told him. "If you think it's not the same in Podunk as it is in Chicago, you're delusional. Money buys power and influence. It also buys lawyers. Not justice, necessarily, but it certainly pays for attorneys. Money and power can rent justice for a while. No matter what you do, you're not going to change that, Chief. Not here and not anywhere. Jonas Attenborough and Allyson Granger have proven they will fight the high-priced lawyers. All we expect from you — for now — is that we have one cop in this city that we can count on. We don't expect you to change the culture of the city. Not today, not next month, not ever. That's not even my job. But I do expect for people to look at you the same way they look at Ms. Granger; the same way I hope they look at me. I want them to see you and immediately think, 'There goes a person with my best interests at heart'. I don't care if they have a billion dollars in the bank or two dollars to their name."
Bryant nodded, duly chastened.
"Now, who's the fat bastard down the street?" Steve wondered, a smile returning to his face. "I could guess but then we would probably be here all day."
"Standish," Allyson replied, disgust written on her features.
Steve laughed and turned to Bryant.
"Mr. Riley Standish was my immediate predecessor on the Council," he told him. "His family bought and held a seat on the City Council and before that the County Commission for almost fifty years. He had too much money tied up in a project to buy his way in last time, though. Over the last five years, we've booted the entire council. The last municipal election cleared the slate. They lost two of the Old Guard five years ago. One died in the middle of his term. That left a stalemate for almost a year. His seat went to a woman in the most recent election. The first time we've had a female in elected office here. Riley Standish and Clete Bauer also lost. Clete up and moved away. Now we have a black man and a woman along with three white men. I had the fewest votes of any of them, honestly. But I'm the only one with time to devote to Council so they made me president. I guess I should have explained this to you earlier."
"No need," Bryant said. "I got chapter and verse from Chuck O'Bannon."
"That is a man we need on the Council!" Steve said. "That man should see how difficult things are to change. Maybe we should make an at-large seat just for him."
"Chamber of Commerce," Allyson said, almost absently. "He needs to be on the Chamber of Commerce."
She turned to Bryant.
"The bigger problem we face is that the Council has little support from the other city leaders," she said. "The Chamber whimpers and cries about every tax and surcharge. The city put a ten percent tax on hotel rooms. You would have thought they were planning to sever limbs. The Chamber threw a fit. The Rotary Club started a petition drive to try to overturn it. My hiring had the local bar association in hysterics. It was bad enough that the lapdog they had in the prosecutor's office lost to Jonas. Then he fired his assistant and hired an outsider."
She paused to collect her thoughts.
"It's already changing," she concluded. "The culture around here, I mean. The police department is the last holdout. Honestly, it was the hardest thing to change so it was left until last, I suppose. None of the positions are elected. The yearlong stalemate during the last Council meant nothing got done. They didn't have the votes to terminate the Chief's position. Now that they do, he's kept his head above water, as far as anyone knows."
"So Standish has lost his influence so he takes it out on people trying to park along the street?" Bryant wondered.
"His influence and his money," Steve clarified. "His family used to own a lot of property along the edges of the city. They sold a lot of it a few years ago but held on to some prime spots in case we ever boomed. When the interstate was announced, the first thing he did was to offer up that last big lot to the highest bidder. But he played with fire this time and got burned. He kept holding out, pushing the price higher and higher. When he finally got ready to sell he realized he was screwed. The council was already in stalemate and he couldn't get the zoning change pushed through like he always had in the past. The contract was signed, contingent upon the zoning change."
"He sold it to a hotel chain," Allyson put in. "The area is zoned residential. That means nothing can go there except housing. The buyers planned for all sorts of things out there — restaurants, stores, gas stations, two hotels. They sued when the deal went bust. Standish not only won't get the money he counted on, but he'll wind up selling the property to another developer, just to pay off the lawsuit."
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