Flashback Part 3-Conclusion

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Part 3-Conclusion

 

Chapter 10: One-Eyed Jack

November 5, 1984

Ricardo Tubbs burst into the office. "They’ve arrested him!" he shouted. "The IAD bastards arrested Sonny!"

“What?” several voices called out in unison.

Stan whistled. “What happened?”

Castillo's door opened, and he stepped out. “My office, Detective.”  Rico followed after him with fire in his eyes.

“Report.”

“It was a set-up, Lieutenant. Vincent DeMarco and Al Lombard set Sonny up!”

“From the beginning!” 

Rico took a deep breath. “Okay. Sonny went to meet with DeMarco. Said he was going to make the slimeball give the stolen tools and equipment back to Barbara Carrow.  Well, it backfired! DeMarco handed Sonny an envelope with money for the tools. IAD was watching and insisted Sonny had accepted a bribe.”

Castillo didn’t say anything, but he was beginning to get the picture. 

"Yeah, I know. It looks bad! But you don’t know Sonny the way I do. The guy can’t be bought! I’m telling you he was set up.”

“Where is Crockett now?”

“They’re booking him.”

Castillo picked up the phone and punched in a number. “Lieutenant Castillo. Vice. You’ve got one of my detectives down there. Yes. Crockett. I’m sending one of my people to collect him. I’ll take the responsibility. Yes. Thank you.”

The Vice detectives assembled around Crockett’s desk when they heard he was in trouble. They watched as Rico returned from booking a short time later with Crockett himself in tow. Sonny looked angry, but still managed to give a nod as he followed Rico into Castillo’s office. Desperate to find out what was going on, they gathered inside the doorway and listened to IAD Officer Charles Schroeder try and convince Castillo of Sonny’s guilt.

“Detective Crockett is a One-Eyed Jack! We only see the side he wants us to see. I feel there's enough evidence here to prosecute. He has to appear for a hearing in two days."

Castillo glanced over the paperwork Schroeder gave him earlier. “Why all the ‘John Doe’s in the subpoena?”

“We prepared it in advance. We’ve known for six months there’s been somebody on DeMarco’s payroll. In exchange for immunity from prosecution on a racketeering charge, he named Crockett.” 

Rico stared at the man in disbelief. “Schroeder! You’re not going to go on the word of some known sleezorama who’d plea-bargain his grandmother?”

“Enough!” Castillo snapped.

“Barbara Carrow refused to sign a complaint against one of DeMarco’s enforcers after a meeting with Detective Crockett.” 

Sonny’s head swiveled. “What?” 

"Less than three hours later, Detective Crockett was observed receiving eight thousand dollars from a known racketeer.”

Rico rushed to Sonny’s defense. “Lieutenant, James Sonny Crockett is the last cop in Dade County that’s dirty!” 

“You’ve been down here a month, right?” Schroeder asked.

“Right!”

“That hardly qualifies you to be an expert on Detective Crockett.”

"Hey, listen, scrod face…"

“Wait a minute!” Crockett, shouted, circling Castillo’s desk and standing in front of Schroeder. "Listen, Lombard's an artist. He has DeMarco set me up. He gets to keep his organization's image heavy on the street, gets me off his case, and you're dumb enough to buy the set-up of me, give him immunity and blow the entire case we’ve been building against DeMarco!”

“That’s the lamest excuse I ever heard!” Schroeder scoffed.

Sonny looked away from him in disgust, then focused on Castillo. “Okay, I can get Barbara Carrow up here in twenty minutes, and we'll straighten this whole thing out.”

“No, you’re not!” Castillo warned.

“Lieutenant, it stinks!” Rico shouted.

Furious, Crockett stared back at the Lieutenant. The look in his eyes was determined, defiant, 

fearless …

A sudden flash of memory burst like artillery fire around Martin Castillo, and he flinched. He could almost hear the whoosh of helicopter blades as a sensation of heat and heavy humidity washed over him, leaving him confused and slightly off balance. When he stared back at Sonny, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Who the hell are you?” 

 “Listen,” Sonny was saying. “If you think for one minute, I’m gonna sit behind a desk while this is happening to me, you’re dreaming!”  He turned on his heel and in a whirl of outrage, he was gone. 

No one said a word as they watched him leave. Gina followed after him, while others, disturbed by Sonny’s fall from grace, wandered back to their desks, trying their best to believe it was all just a terrible mistake.

Trudy returned to Castillo’s office after the others had drifted away, and she stood in the doorway, chewing the inside of her lip, trying desperately to think of something to say. It surprised her to realize the Lieutenant wasn’t aware she was there. 

Totally preoccupied, Martin scanned the papers in front of him while scribbling in the margins of Schroeder’s scathing report. He wrote with broad strokes, clutching the black pen tightly in his hand. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes flashed as he explored one set of papers, then the other.

Clearly, the man was upset.

“So… he has a heart after all!” she thought. 

She let out a long sigh and left, comforted by Castillo’s concern and relieved things no longer looked so bleak now that Crockett had a powerful ally in his corner. 

 

But Martin Castillo was far from being in control. At that moment, he felt as if he’d just been punched in the gut. His head was still spinning, and it was taking a while for his breathing to return to normal. He threw the pen down and slumped forward, trying to ease the tension from his neck and shoulders. 

He wasn’t sure what had just taken place between him and Crockett, but he refused to let himself be influenced by the unfamiliar emotions. If it turned out Sonny was dirty, Martin would cooperate with the investigation and make sure the detective was punished. 

But if Schroeder had based his findings on faulty logic, which Martin strongly suspected he had, then Martin would do all he could to clear Crockett’s name. 

After reviewing the paperwork thoroughly, he gathered his notes, a copy of the subpoena, and the report of Crockett’s arrest, and locked them away in a desk drawer. Then, he put his head in his hands and thought back to the moment when the sight of Crockett’s anger unnerved him. 

What triggered his reaction? Was it because his faith in the man had been shaken? Or was it caused by his disappointment, made worse by the look of anguish on Sonny’s face? 

The answer would come to him eventually. But for now, it was time to give it a rest. His body was tired, his mind on fire. But instead of spending his usual few hours on the office couch, he’d go home, to the peace and tranquility of his secluded house by the sea.

 

Chapter 11: Good Timing

Sonny stopped for a red light and heard the Ferrari’s engine purr. 

“So, what did you expect?” he muttered. “You risk your life every day, work so hard, your marriage falls apart! And what ends up happening? You get yourself investigated by a bunch of idiots whose job depends on finding dirty cops!” 

The light turned green, and he pushed the accelerator to the floor, making the rubber wheels squeal as the car flew through the intersection like a rocket.

Lost in thought, he reached the marina parking lot and pulled into his usual spot. All he wanted at the moment was a hot shower and a drink before he hit the sack. He took one more drag on his cigarette and flicked it in the water.

"Damn that bastard, DeMarco!"

Boats blazed with light; laughter from his partying neighbors floated on the air. 

“Another night with a pillow over my head,” he grumbled when he heard the deafening racket.

Then he noticed a glow coming from the St. Vitus. 

What the hell?

He hurried along the dock, trying to be quiet so he wouldn’t alert the intruder. Then, he heard the clatter of dishes. He crept onto the deck just as Gina appeared with a bottle of champagne and two glasses in her hand.

"Hi, there!" she said in a cheerful voice. She handed over the bottle and a corkscrew. "Here, open this for me, will ya?”

He glanced down at the label on the bottle. “Ah, great. So, what’s the occasion?”

Gina struck a match and lit the hurricane lamp she’d set up on a small snack table. “Oh, I thought you might be in the mood for a little company tonight.”

He walked over to her, his eyes sparkling with affection, and gathered her up into his arms.

“Good timing,” he said, smiling down at her. When he kissed her, he lingered for just a moment, enjoying the smooth softness of her lips. He felt her trembling and pulled away to look at her.

"Forget the champagne," she whispered, her hands clinging to his jacket. He felt her warm breath on his cheek. 

“I’m with you, darlin’,” he chuckled and leaned down to kiss her again.    

 

She stood at the foot of the bed, undressing slowly, allowing him to watch her in the moonlight. She pulled her shirt over her head. Then her skirt drifted to the floor, and she stepped out of it, her dreamy eyes watching for his reaction.

… dreamy eyes … eyes, a man could get lost in 

He breathed out slowly. 

Her white skin seemed to glow, her dark hair falling in waves around her shoulders. He moved closer and ran his hands over her shoulders and down her back. Then, he reached behind and eased the panties over her hips.

Gina played with the button on his linen pants, and after a few good tugs, pulled it open. Then, her fingers began working on the zipper.

“I need you, you know,” he said, his voice catching a little.

She smiled and reached up with a finger to trace his lips. “That’s why I’m here.” 

Something stirred inside when she said that, and he pulled her against him. The kiss was gentle at first, but then it deepened, becoming hungry, more demanding. His hand cupped the back of her head, and his fingers tangled in her hair. 

Breaking away, he picked her up in his arms and put her down on his bed. He could almost feel her eyes explore his body as he peeled off his shirt. He finished the job she’d started with the zipper, and stepping out of his pants, he kicked them to the side. 

“Come on, Sonny,” she whispered. 

Surprised by her impatience, he smiled and lay down beside her. "Come here," he murmured and pulled her close. He brushed his lips against her cheek, and as he nibbled down her neck, he heard her moan his name. 

That was all it took to send him over the edge, and to a place far away, where nothing mattered more to him than being in her arms

 

Gina’s head was resting lightly on his chest as the boat rocked gently with the tide. When she sighed and shifted to her side, Sonny held her spoon-like until she drifted off to sleep. 

He dozed for a while but woke up an hour later, feeling restless and worried. Disentangling himself, he eased out of the bed so as not to wake her.  Then he pulled on a pair of shorts and padded barefoot up the steps and out onto the deck. 

Now, he’d take the time to sort things out. The IAD investigation was still on his mind, but right now, he was more concerned about Barbara Carrow. After Schroeder’s little display at OCB, he and Rico had visited the Carrow house, and her husband, Jerry, said he didn’t know where she was.

“Got a phone call from a girlfriend and off she went. Said she’d be right back.”

When Sonny checked in with Jerry a few hours later, the guy was frantic.

“Take it easy, Jerry. She’s probably caught up in some gabbing session with her friend or something.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“If you need me ... if you need anything ... call me. Okay?"

“Okay, thanks. And Sonny?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re gonna take care of things, right?”

“I’ll do everything I can, Jerry. Do like I tell you and take it easy. And make sure you call me the minute she gets in.”

 

Now a channel marker clanged mournfully in the distance, and Sonny checked his watch. It was three a.m., and Jerry still hadn't called. Rico had put out an APB earlier, but no one reported seeing her. He could feel in his gut something was wrong. Barbara was out there somewhere, in trouble and alone. Maybe doing it his way and pushing DeMarco hard had been a mistake. 

The sting of guilt made him even more uneasy. He fingered the keys to his car, fighting the impulse to search for her himself. But he realized he had no idea where to start.  

Better to wait for Jerry’s phone call. 

Or the dreaded results from the APB. 

 

Chapter 12: The Canal

November 6, 1984

The yellow crime tape fluttered in the gentle breeze. Now Sonny understood why Jerry never called. He watched them zipper the body bag over Barbara Carrow’s face, and his heart cracked in two. After they wheeled her away on a rickety gurney, he stayed by the edge of the canal, gazing out at the muddy water.

"Hey, man, I'm sorry," Rico said, coming up behind him.

“How the hell could it have ended here?” 

Sonny’s unspoken worries from the night before had come back to haunt him. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t help but imagine her last moments. 

Was she frightened? Did she suffer? Did she cry or beg for her life? Did she pray?

He shuddered.

“Who did this?” Jerry Carrow asked. “Where are they?”

“Now you listen to me!” Crockett growled as he hurried over to the grieving man’s side. “The kids have already lost one parent. They don’t need to lose the other. Let us handle it!”

“How? Like you handled this?”

Crockett flinched. Shocked by Jerry’s anger, he watched the man leave with his head down and his hands stuffed into his pockets.

Castillo had already arrived; Sonny noticed him standing in the clearing and handing a clipboard to one of the coroner’s technicians. The sight of him made Sonny wince. “Damn! Just what I need! Mr. Cheerful.”

“Five shots in the back of the head with a twenty-two,” Castillo said as he came up beside him. Sonny crossed his arms and leaned against one of the patrol cars. “Outfit trademark. Lombard.”

“Anybody can buy a twenty-two.”

Rico’s eyes narrowed as he came up to Castillo. “Hey, whose side are you on?” he demanded.

The Lieutenant head turned slowly, and his stare fixed on Rico. “Don’t ever come up to my face like this again, Detective.”

Too steamed to recognize he was in serious trouble, Rico squared his shoulders, preparing to give Castillo an angry reply. 

Sonny knew he had to step in. “Come on,” he muttered, pushing his partner away from the Lieutenant before things got any worse. Rico began to protest, but Crockett pushed him along.

“What’s the matter with you, idiot! He was about to send you into orbit!”

“Who cares.”

"I care. I don't want you going down because of me. Let's get some coffee, and we’ll figure this out together.”

 

Chapter 12: Poker Face

No one in the OCB office seemed to care IAD officer Schroeder was studying a ream of paperwork he’d lifted from Sonny Crockett’s desk. No one, except Miami Vice officer, Larry Zito.

“So, Lieutenant, sticky fingers here just gets to molest our files, or what?”

The office doors swung open, and Sonny strode in, dark sunglasses hiding his tired, bloodshot eyes.

“Find anything interesting, Schroeder?”

 “Leave him alone," Castillo called out.  “The man’s doing his job.”

“Terrific!” Sonny grumbled.

Schroeder grinned. “If you don’t own a coat and tie, Crockett, better buy one. Standard dress for a Board of Rights preliminary hearing, and ya got one of those tomorrow."

Now Sonny’s forehead creased with concern.

Gina had just gotten off the phone and came over to sit on the edge of Sonny’s desk. “Forensics thinks the Carrow woman was in the water 10 hours, which makes her time of death around 8:30 pm,” she told him. The absence of bruising, hematomas, and low hormone levels indicates there was no struggle. At least she didn't know it was coming, Sonny."

Somehow, it didn’t make him feel any less guilty. “The lights just went out, huh?” 

“Trudy traced her movements to about six when she gassed up on Miami Avenue.”

“No prints?”

"Nope. Not much of anything else to tie this to DeMarco. I wish I could tell you more, Sonny.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “How’s this going?” she asked, nodding her head toward Schroeder. 

He shook his head and gave her a rueful smile. “I don’t know, Gina. They really dropped me in the trick bag this time."  

He buried his head in his hands. 

 

By eight that evening, the office was quiet. Castillo was still working at his desk when there was a knock on his door. It was Ricardo Tubbs. 

“Lieutenant, sorry to disturb you. Can I talk to you a minute?”

Marty nodded him in, and Rico stood in front of his Lieutenant’s desk, looking a little sheepish. 

“First of all, I want you to understand I was sticking up for my partner this morning. But Crockett told me I was out of line, so I guess I’d better apologize.”

Castillo was too tired to argue. “Accepted. Have a seat.” 

Still uncomfortable, Rico avoided the chair next to the desk and eased onto the couch a few feet away. “Okay, we got that out of the way, so I’ll get right to the point. My partner’s in trouble. And I have a plan to clear his name.”

Encouraged by Castillo’s silence, he went on. 

“Lombard and DeMarco think they hold the winning hand with this set up against Crockett, so I thought I’d set up a little sting of my own. I got myself into a poker game Switek told me they have going at the Trident every night at two am. Poker's something I can handle, Lieutenant. I grew up on the streets of New York, so I know how to hustle, and I know how to play cards. 

“So, I visited the Trident last night, and I did pretty damn good! But best of all, I managed to get DeMarco's attention. I got him to believe I was a dude from up north, facing charges for racketeering and some other nasty crimes. He liked what he heard and suggested there might be a place for me in the Lombard organization. Next thing I know, I'm having lunch on Lombard’s yacht, swapping jokes with the main man and impressing him with my Italian accent.”

Castillo liked the way Rico had worked this out and found his initial impression of the cocky detective changing for the better. Still, he didn’t want to take a chance this could blow up in Rico’s face. “You’re not home free yet. Lombard’s going to do some checking.”

“Sonny and I discussed this. A contact he has vouched for me and my references passed with flying colors. Now I have a foot in the door. Shouldn’t be too hard to find a chink in Lombard’s armor.”

“Take the preliminary steps and keep me informed,” Castillo stood.

“Yeah,” Rico answered, not sure whether he’d gotten his superior’s blessing or not. He headed for the door.

“And Detective?”

“Yes, sir?”

“No cowboy stuff.”

Rico tried not to laugh. “Our reputations precede us, I see,” he said with a wide grin.

“Make sure your reputation doesn’t bury you, Detective.”

“Will do.”

The planning session was over.

 

 

Chapter 13: Kaleidoscope

After Rico left, Castillo collected reports from a secretary's going-out tray, and as he passed Crockett’s desk, he saw something that made him stop. 

It was a professional photograph of a blonde woman and a young boy in a gold frame. The boy bore a strong resemblance to Crockett, most likely his son. The blonde woman held the child close, her arm encircling the boy protectively. 

“The mother,” Martin thought. 

Then he frowned. Something about her face startled him. It took him only a minute to figure out why. His eyes widened with recognition. 

Picture in hand, he hurried back into his office and fanned out the files he’d pulled earlier in front of him. 

Bennett, Richard
Calabrese, Gina
Crockett, J

It was the last one he wanted. He opened Crockett’s file and saw his name printed on the top of the official form. 

James ‘Sonny’ Crockett…

He hesitated. James? He remembered Rico mentioning his partner’s full name earlier in the day, but it hadn’t made an impression on him until now. 

He peered at the small photograph of Sonny clipped to his file and thought back to a night in Viet Nam when he and Jack Gretsky went to a military hospital looking for an injured soldier they'd rescued on the highway to Pleiku. The words he spoke to the nurse on duty that night played back in his head: “His name’s Jim. Sandy blonde hair. Approximately five foot nine. He was airlifted here two days ago, with burns on his face and a wounded leg. Don’t tell me he’s not here!"

Castillo blinked. Crockett's hair was sandy blonde, and his height was a shade under five-ten. Castillo began to rub his forehead, trying to put it all together. Now, he reviewed the rest of Sonny’s file. 

Military Service Summary

1969: Marines Corps, Military Police, Da Nang. Note:  Rescued two fellow Marines from enemy fire. Awarded the Silver Star.
1971:  Re-enlisted. Assigned to the Marine Security Guard, stationed in Da Nang, Viet Nam. Note: Wounded in action. Awarded the Purple Heart. 
1975, April: Marine Security Guard, stationed in Saigon. Assisted in evacuation of embassy personnel.
1975, September: Honorably discharged.

It was all lining up. His eyes scanned down to the next line. 

Marital Status 1975: Married                   Wife’s maiden name: Lambert, Caroline

Another small photo was clipped to Crockett’s file. This time, another familiar face jumped out at him. 

… a girl with a million-dollar smile …

“I’ll be damned!” he whispered. The last piece of the puzzle-Caroline Lambert. 

It was a name he'd never forgotten, scribbled on the back of a photograph the injured soldier had entrusted to him eleven long years ago. The name Martin committed to memory just in case he’d have to find a young girl back in the States and tell her James wasn’t coming home.

Stunned, Castillo reread Sonny’s record, refusing to accept such an incredible coincidence. But there it was, in black and white.

James “Sonny” Crockett 

Now, there was no doubt in his mind. Sonny was the soldier he and Jack had rescued that blistering hot day in 1971.

“So, now what?” he wondered. Should he introduce himself to Crockett? Remind him of their history together and watch the dawning recognition come into his eyes?

It was tempting, but Castillo had good reason to hold back. Some veterans he’d met, couldn’t stop talking about their experiences in Nam. Others found it too painful to relive. Maybe Crockett was a man who preferred to leave the war in the past. 

He closed his eyes. 

There was another reason to keep this discovery to himself; Sonny might think Martin expected his gratitude for saving his life. It was Crockett's unconditional loyalty Martin wanted, not his thanks. The man's respect for him should be based on the here and now, not half-forgotten memories from long ago.

Maybe someday they’d sit together and talk about the past, perhaps even heal a little in the process. But for now, Martin decided it was best to keep silent and let the passage of time be his guide.

 

Chapter 14: The Setup

November 7, 1984

Crockett arrived at the office the next morning, grumpier than usual. The blue tee-shirt he’d pulled over his head was rumpled, a noticeable coffee stain on the front. His cover sometimes called for an unshaven look, but this morning, his stubble was scruffier than usual.

It had been several nights since Sonny had gotten a decent night's sleep, and this morning it was beginning to show. Even the strong black coffee he’d brewed aboard the Vitus had done little to help re-energize him. Lighting up a cigarette for the fifth time that morning, he coughed hard when the tobacco fumes hit the back of his throat.

Castillo’s office door opened. “Crockett. We need to talk.”

“Now what?” Crockett groaned. He followed Castillo into his office.

“Have a seat,” Castillo said. 

Crockett found a place on the couch and waited for the ax to fall. 

“I know. I missed Schroeder’s inquisition. That’s what this is about.”  

“That’s not why I asked you in.”

“Well, I don’t have any case reports outstanding,” Crockett said with a laugh. “Hell, I don’t have any cases at all!” 

“Tubbs spoke to me last night.”

“He did?”

“The plan he devised makes sense.”

“Okay. I mean, good. I’m glad.”

“I always believed there were weaknesses in Schroeder’s powers of deduction.”

Sonny could barely contain himself. "You think so, Lieutenant?"

“We need DeMarco’s statement to clear you, though,” Castillo continued. “If Lombard believes his right-hand man’s been skimming from the profits, DeMarco’s in big trouble. He’ll be begging for protective custody.”

"If there's a way to do it, Rico will find it," Sonny said with confidence.

“Don’t underestimate an allegiance.” 

Sonny snickered. “Lombard’s got a special relationship with his money. He’d cut off his grandmother’s hand if he caught it in the till!”

The office door burst open, and Schroeder poked his head in, pointing an accusatory finger toward Sonny. “Your no-show at the prelims was good, Crockett. Where’s the Clarence Darrow defense? You’re finished! Why don’t you hang it up and become a security guard?" 

“Schroeder!” 

The IAD officer’s head snapped up. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

"Who do you think you are, to walk into my office and mouth off to one of my detectives? I went over Crockett's file, and given his arrest record, commendations, and the interest he shows during an investigation; I'd say either you've been had, or you're a complete idiot for believing the charges against him."

If Sonny laughed at Schroeder’s startled expression, it would have ruined the moment. Instead, he held it in and looked down at the floor.

"Plenty of dirty cops have squeaky clean histories. It don't mean anything," Schroeder's eyes slipped away from Castillo’s steady glare.

“One thing it does mean is that he doesn’t have to walk around here being harassed by you.” Castillo was angry. "If you're finished with the files, get out!" 

Schroeder made a hasty retreat. 

There were few events in Crockett's life as satisfying as this one. He looked over at Castillo and gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you,” he said. He still couldn’t believe what had just happened. 

The lieutenant cleared his throat as if he was about to speak. His probing stare made Sonny uncomfortable. Then, the sound of Tubbs whistling broke the spell. 

With a happy grin on his face, Sonny’s partner leaned into Castillo’s office to tell them he’d met with Lombard after the cockfight the night before and had managed to muddy DeMarco’s standing with his boss.

"Good," Sonny smirked. "We’ll be hearing from Mr. DeMarco soon."

Trudy was at the door. “You already have,” she told them. “DeMarco’s on the line,” 

 

Vincent De Marco was frantic.

"What are you trying to do to me? I got people watching my house and watching my car. I've got a family! Lombard's not returning my calls."

“It’s called payback, De Marco,” Rico chuckled. 

“It’s called murder. Mine. Payback for what? I don’t even know you. What do you want, money?”

"Yeah, well, here’s the thing, Vincent. You're gonna have to do me a little favor."

They knew they’d have their work cut out for them. Convincing Lombard DeMarco was skimming had been easy. But persuading DeMarco to cooperate with the law was going to take some expert handling.

“Careful how you play this,” Castillo warned them. “You’ll be back to square one if he gets cold feet.”

“Don’t worry, Lieutenant. DeMarco knows he’s history on the street. He’ll cooperate.”

“Make sure your method of interrogation doesn’t feed a lawyer an excuse to get a judge to dismiss the charges.”

“No way that’s happening. Thanks to Vincent DeMarco, a mother with two kids is dead.” 

"Look at the bigger picture, Crockett. DeMarco is small-fry. Lombard's the one who ordered the hit."

“Oh, I know, Lieutenant. Protective custody and promised immunity for DeMarco will come with a high price this time. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s gonna have to help us get Lombard.”

“We still have an invitation for lunch with Lombard this afternoon,” Rico reminded them. “Zito and Switek will wire DeMarco."

DeMarco was willing to sign the statement retracting his allegations against Detective James 'Sonny' Crockett, but his enthusiasm about having lunch with Lombard with a wire under his shirt was not as forthcoming. 

“Forget it! I’m not signing nothin’!”

Crockett's eyes gleamed with malice. "On what we know now, a court order will rescind the immunity from prosecution Schroeder got for you on racketeering charges. And I'm not even going to bore you with the peripheral stuff, pal. Extortion, assault, R.I.C.O. Statutes. Vinnie, honey. You're facing five years federal prison time minimum.”

"Dealer's choice, Vinnie!" Rico jeered. "Jail, or lunch."

DeMarco took a pen from Zito and signed on the dotted line.

 

“You’ll need these,” Castillo said to Crockett in the privacy of his office. Some of the ice had disappeared from the edge of his voice. He picked up a large yellow envelope and spilled the contents out on his desk. Crockett's eyes lit up when he spotted his badge, and then, his gun.

“Make sure the report on the Lombard arrest is on my desk tomorrow morning, Detective.”

"Yeah, okay, Lieutenant. Bright and early."

“Good.”

Sonny hesitated. “Lieutenant. I want you to know I appreciated what you said about me to Schroeder."

"I only told the truth."

"Yeah, but all you had to go on was my file, and you still gave me the benefit of the doubt. That meant a lot to me.”

“I’m aware you’re a good cop. And your service deserves our support.”

Sonny studied Castillo as they shook hands. “Not sure what makes you say that Lieutenant, but I’m grateful.”

Castillo saw that Crockett was touched, maybe even a bit shaken. “Maybe now!” he thought. 
He held his breath and waited. But the young detective just closed his eyes and turned his head away. 

Martin understood. Maybe Sonny sensed the man standing in front of him had somehow influenced his life, but right now, he wasn’t willing to dig any deeper to find out when or how. 

Rico leaned into the room. “We’re ready. Let’s go.”

Sonny’s eyes shot open as if he’d just woken up from a dream.  Smiling warmly, he gave his boss a two-fingered salute. “Later, Lieutenant,” he said. 

Rico grinned and then, the two men were gone.

Chapter 15: Sanity Maintenance

Unlike DeMarco's takedown, the Lombard sting was a total disaster. No sooner had Rico and DeMarco boarded Lombard's yacht, the mobster announced they were going to cast off. They hadn’t counted on that and were unprepared. Rico wouldn’t have back up, and he was about to be dragged out to the open sea.

As soon as the yacht’s engines began to sputter, DeMarco panicked, lying to Lombard by telling him he skimmed the payment money to pay off the man who killed Barbara Carrow. But when he saw Lombard’s eyes narrow, he caved, pulling off his shirt to show Lombard the wire the cops “made” him wear, hoping he’d win back his boss’ trust.

Sonny could hear things going from bad to worse and shouted for the squad to move in before it turned into a bloodbath.

“All units, Code Red! Move in! Code Red!” Firing up the Scarab's engines, he raced toward Lombard’s yacht just as it began to float away from the dock.

“Come on… come on…” Sonny shouted above the roar of the powerful engine. He trained his binoculars on the boat in the distance, and what he saw made him curse under his breath. “What the hell is Jerry doing there?” 

Barbara Carrow's husband was creeping forward, inching his way along the deck. And Crockett was sure there was a revolver in the troubled man's hand.

“No,” he groaned. “No, Jerry, no!”

The Scarab cut through the waves, racing at heart-stopping speed. But when they heard the single shot, Sonny knew they were too late. His only hope was his partner was still in one piece. He could deal with anything but the thought of Rico dying because he hadn’t worked out all the possible kinks in their plan.

Crockett stepped onto the yacht and held his breath, expecting the worst. He kicked open the door leading to the inside of the vessel and stared into the gloom. Rico and Lombard stood there with their hands in the air. DeMarco was dead, shot through the heart.

“Why?” Sonny groaned as he gently removed the gun from Jerry’s hand.

“I had to, Sonny. I just had to.”

Crockett put his hand on Jerry's shoulder. He saw the suffering on the man's face and knew the man he killed had shattered his world. It didn't matter what punishment he was going to face, because nothing the law could do would make him regret what he’d done.

Sonny handcuffed Jerry’s hands behind him, the same way Rico had just handcuffed Lombard a few minutes before. Jerry was miserable, but Lombard seemed unconcerned, telling them how he’d be out in time for the round of golf he’d scheduled for the next morning.

Castillo wasn’t optimistic any charges would stick. “Lombard’s too slippery,” he warned. “He knows how to play the system.” 

And just as he predicted, Lombard’s lawyer arrived a short time later, ready to spring him before they even got a chance to take his mug shot. 

Jerry Carrow’s fate was a different matter. 

"So, what do you think they'll do to him?" Rico asked Sonny as they sat on the St. Vitus that night.

"It's hard to tell: no priors, family hardship, diminished capacity. He might get a hard sentence. It’ll be up to the judge.”

“I’ll bet Lombard’s back out there on his yacht, sailing out into the blue.”

Shaking his head, Sonny swung open the hatch door and disappeared down the stairs leading to the galley. "I know. It stinks!” he shouted.

“Ya got that right.”

After a few seconds, Sonny returned with two fishing poles and handed one to Rico. 

“What’s this?” Rico asked.

“This is what is commonly known as a fishing pole. People fish with it.”

"Ten o'clock at night, and you want to go fishing?"

"It's called 'sanity maintenance,' Tubbs. You should try it sometime.”

Rico shook his head and sighed.

"Would ya cast off the bowline?" Sonny shouted over his shoulder.

"The bowline?"

“Oh, I forgot!” Sonny chuckled. You’re from New York! Uh, that's the front of the boat.”

“Oh. So, we’re gonna sail this thing in the dark?”

“Sure we are, Rico. There are lights on this baby and everything.”

Rico caught the sarcasm. “Okay, okay. So, I’m a city boy. Just give me a sailing manual or something. I’ll be navigating this bucket in no time.”

As he leaned over to loosen the ropes, Rico lost his balance and almost tumbled into the bay. Sonny doubled over with laughter.

“Keep it up, Crockett.” 

After finally maneuvering out of the slip, Sonny steered the boat out onto the bay,  anchoring where the Miami lights were nothing more than a glitter in the distance.

Rico tossed him another beer. “So, partner. Tell me what you think of our new leader, Martin Castillo?" he asked.

Sonny sat on a deck chair and pulled the tab on the can. “He’s intense, that’s for sure. But maybe he’s just what the squad needs.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No.” Sonny reached for his pole and with an expert flick of his wrist, let the fishing line float on the breeze until it landed with a soft splash in the water. “There’s something about him, Rico. Something different.”

“Yeah, I’ll say.”

Sonny pulled the line in and cast it out again. “I don’t know. He may seem hard-nosed about some things, but he's disciplined, honest, and I trust him." 

“Sorry. For me, the jury’s still out. Ask me in a couple of weeks, and maybe by then, I'll see the light.”

“If he doesn’t fire your ass first!”

"I wouldn't talk. Castillo's first impression of you wasn’t exactly stellar!”

"Maybe not. But at least now the man knows I don’t roll over and play dead when the going gets tough.” 

He took a sip of his beer. “So, Rico, ole buddy.” He was eyeing the pole, hanging limply in his partner's hand, "Ya gonna put that hook of yours in the water sometime tonight? Or maybe you're one of those folks from up north who think the fish are gonna jump into the boat all by themselves?” 

“Let’s see how cocky you are when you come around to my neck of the woods. Try and navigate the NYC subway system, and we'll see how street smart you are!"

“Never gonna happen, Rico. There’s no way I’m ever setting foot in ‘gridlock’ city.” 

He saw Rico smirk.

Sonny loved teasing his partner. The guy took it well and almost seemed to enjoy the gentle ribbing. He never thought he’d get close to someone again after Eddie, and yet, here they were, like two brothers, bickering good-naturedly together. 

Sonny pulled out another beer from the cooler and threw it to Rico. “Here ya go, New York! Now, let’s see if you can catch us some dinner.”

Then slapping Rico on the back, he grabbed another can and cracked it open for himself.

 

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed my adaptation of the story and most of all, the little plot diversion! 
 

Edited December 7, 2019 by mjcmmv

[Robbie C.]

Nicely done.