Harbor Blues Read online

  “Nope.” Charlie turned to Scott. “Thought I’d save it for my new partner.”

  Scott leaned back and offered the man his hand. “Hi. I’m Scott Swain.”

  “Oh, right. I heard we were getting a celebrity.”

  The detective shook his hand. “I’m Carlisle. Wow took me fifteen years to get to homicide. But then my old man wasn’t an assistant chief. What’s a Valley guy like you doing slumming down here, anyway?”

  Scott didn’t want to go there and had to think fast. He glanced over at Charlie and said, “Learning from the best.”

  Charlie grinned. “You know, this kid may have potential.”

  With the detective gone, Scott pulled up a chair and sat down to ask Charlie about his caseload. But Charlie put the question off by saying they could use a couple of more detective teams and brought the subject back to Scott’s father.

  “So college boy, you planning to follow in Ted’s footsteps?”

  “I haven’t decided.”

  “Well, either you take every squint job you can, like him,” Charlie said, “or you stay in the street, because shit, you know, guys like me don’t promote.”

  Hoping to hear some profound justification for staying a street cop rather than making rank, Scott said, “You’re still doing it though.”

  “It’s not what it used to be, but if I have to be anywhere, homicide’s it. People kill each other for the damnedest reasons.”

  Still hopeful, Scott added, “And that fascinates you?”

  “Well, let’s just say it doesn’t bore the shit out of me.” He stood up. “Why don’t we grab a cup of coffee in the break room?”

  In only a few minutes with Charlie, Scott had seen a view of police work different than he’d experienced at home, or even during his brief time on patrol. And although he loved his father, and was proud of the fact he ranked directly below the chief of police, he found Charlie‘s career much more intriguing.

  “Hell, in the old days we didn’t wait for trouble to find us, we’d go out and find it.” Charlie dropped some coins into the vending machine. “We didn’t fool around with the small shit. We went after the guns and dope.”

  “What about radio calls?”

  “We picked up enough to stay on the radar, but we were usually too busy jacking up a bunch of gangbangers with a carload of firepower to be the first ones to respond.”

  Scott took a gulp of his energy drink. “Not so easy to do these days.”

  “Don’t I know it.” Charlie sipped his coffee. “We kicked more ass and took more names back then than you youngsters will do your whole career.”

  Scott lapped up every word and hoped to hear more about Charlie’s exploits. Instead, Charlie changed the subject.

  “So you’re Melanie McNeil’s son?” Charlie tossed Scott the car keys. “Man, it’s been over twenty years. How is she?”

  “Mom’s good.”

  Charlie pointed to the blue Chevy parked near the door and said, “Jesus, she was pretty hot stuff back then.”

  CHAPTER 2

  1973

  As Melanie pulled out onto the busy streets of San Pedro, she popped an eight track tape into her car stereo and rolled back the sunroof of her 1970 VW Bug. The traffic and noise contrasted with the soothing gentle breeze of the balmy summer night, drenched by a full moon glistening over the harbor. When she glanced out her window while waiting for a traffic light, she saw several police cars parked in front of a dock, where officers attempted to break up a fistfight.

  “Go get ‘em, guys,” she said with a smile.

  A few minutes later, a guard waved her through LAPD’s Harbor Station gate and into the parking lot. She hurried to the employee entrance and used her key to unlock the door. Once inside, she walked into the middle of change of watch and glanced up at the 24-hour clock which read, 2350. On her way to the records unit, where she worked the morning watch as a clerk typist, she dodged officers in blue hurrying by, and arrestees waiting in the hallway for booking.

  “Smitty, wait,” Melanie called to one of the officers, as he headed out to his patrol car with a shotgun and a briefcase.

  “Hey, McNeil. How’s my ray of sunshine in the middle of the cold dark night?”

  “I’m good. Check with me before Tommy’s closes, will ya? I didn’t bring a lunch.”

  “Anything for you, babe.” He clicked his tongue. “See you about 0200.”

  She turned around and collided head-on with another officer who instantly reached out and grabbed her arms. When she glanced up into his eyes she saw they were on her boobs. “I’ve always dreamed of us meeting like this,” he said.

  Melanie scowled at him and sighed deeply. “Hi, Earl.”

  Before she had a chance to secure her purse in a desk drawer, the watch commander appeared with a large board and stood it up at her work station. “Here’s tonight’s line-up.”

  “Ok, I’ll get right to it.”

  But she didn’t, because another officer appeared at the counter in front of her typewriter. “Hi, Sweetie, I’m expecting a teletype. Can you check on it for me?” Melanie went to the machine, and tore off his message. He left with it, and Charlie Moore called to her from the hallway. “Hey beautiful, I need a DR number.”

  She took a seat in front of the typewriter that held the report number log, looked up and saw another familiar face. “Hello Charlie.”

  Charlie didn’t have hunk status, but his tall lean frame, baby blue eyes, and flirty smile made most of the women in the station forget he had a wife and two kids.

  “This place is hopping tonight,” Melanie said.

  Charlie sat down in the chair opposite her and leaned over the front of the typewriter. “We’ve just been doing our job. Protecting ravishing creatures like you from the bad guys.”

  Pretending to ignore his remark, she poised her hands over the keyboard, “What have you got?”

  He leaned in toward her and whispered, “A burning desire to jump this counter and take you right there.”

  She glanced at all the people passing by and said, “Sure. All right. We can charge admission.”

  “If it’s privacy you’re looking for, I know a place. You can tell them you’re taking a break. I guarantee I’ll have you back in twenty minutes.”

  Melanie laughed. “A whole twenty minutes?”

  “Hey, ask around. Some have said twenty minutes with me is the real pause that refreshes.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll stick with my nap.”

  “Come on Melanie, give me—”

  Melanie nodded toward a coworker walking by. “Why don’t you talk to Denise?”

  “We’ve already talked. In fact, she’s talked to almost every copper here.”

  “She actually fell for your twenty minute line?”

  “Yeah, but I had her back in ten.”

  Melanie shook her head and placed her fingers on the typewriter. “Who’s the victim, Charlie?”

  Faking pain with his hand on his heart, he said, “Me.”

  “You? What’s the crime?”

  “Battery on a police officer—by a record clerk.”

  ◆◆◆

  Melanie relieved Caroline Miller from the night watch. Caroline had accomplished what many of the department’s women civilian employees had made a career trying to do, she had nabbed a uniform. Caroline’s husband Eric had already been married when he transferred into Harbor, but as with so many cops, his wife simply didn’t understand him or the job, and when Caroline happily comforted his misunderstood ego, he had no problem leaving the wife and three kids for her.

  Caroline had lucked out with Eric. Most guys just moved from one willing hopeful to the next until their wives had had enough, tossed them and their tarnished badges out, and ran for the hills to marry the first plumber or businessman they could find.

  Melanie wanted no part of uniform-chasing. In fact, she usually cringed when she saw her sister clerks push flirting to the limit. Unlike them, she wasn’t there to find a husband.
She needed to make enough money to cut a record, and jump-start her singing career. She loved to perform, and the Los Angeles Police Department would help her dream come true.

  Caroline, now six months pregnant, was tiring more easily. Melanie could see it in her posture as she stood in front of the Xerox machine making copies. The machine was right outside the office of South Traffic Division, housed at Harbor station. Through the open door to the office, she watched a motorcycle officer standing over a DUI as he administered a sobriety test.

  “Blow again,” he said at the top of his voice to his uncooperative drunk.

  Melanie walked up to the copier, and Caroline said, “I’ve been trying to get these reports out for two hours. I don’t want to leave them for you and Denise.”

  Melanie surveyed the bustling station. “Must be the full moon out there tonight.”

  “I know, I—” A voice from the speaker box on the wall interrupted her. “Call just came out, officer needs help, Avalon and Alameda.”

  The announcement could be heard throughout the station and caused an exodus of uniformed officers out the station door.

  Caroline stopped copying. “That’s Eric’s area!” She took off for the Watch Commander’s office with Melanie right behind her. They nearly ran into one of the sergeants on his way out.

  “Who is it?” Caroline squealed.

  “5A15. Shots fired. Officer down. It sounded like Ted Swain on the radio.”

  A look of terror came over Caroline’s face. “Eric,” she cried.

  Melanie wrapped her arms around her, but Caroline pulled away. “I have to go to him.”

  “All right,” the watch commander said. “Wait. I’ll find somebody to drive you to Harbor General.”

  Melanie didn’t hesitate. “I’m going with you.”

  ◆◆◆

  The women walked into pandemonium when they arrived at the emergency room. Eric had already gone to pre-op to be prepped for surgery, and it took Caroline over half an hour to find out if his injuries were life threatening. In the meantime, Melanie located a nurse and insisted she put them in a room away from the onslaught of reporters surrounding Caroline. Concerned for the baby, Melanie tried to keep her as calm as possible while they waited for what seemed like forever.

  Once they learned Eric had only been shot in the arm, they relaxed a bit. But there still remained some chance the surgery would not restore full use of it, and they waited with family and friends through a long and troubling night to hear the outcome. Ted, Eric’s partner, had been there a few minutes and wanted to stay, but had been hustled off for questioning by detectives and Internal Affairs. After the surgery, when Eric and Caroline were resting comfortably, Melanie hitched a ride back to the station with Smitty and his partner.

  ◆◆◆

  With the sunrise as a backdrop, the black-and-white pulled up behind Melanie’s VW. She thanked the officers and walked to her car, where she stopped to yawn and rub one eye before unlocking the door. She threw her purse on the passenger seat, took a tissue out of her pocket, and wiped the dew off the windshield. As she slid behind the wheel, a voice from behind surprised her.

  “How is he?”

  She turned her head. “Oh, Ted. I didn’t see you there.” She took a deep breath. “He’s hurting, but they say his arm is going to be fine.”

  “Good.”

  Melanie studied him. “You look beat. They finished with you?”

  “For now. I’ve got to talk with the department shrink later today.”

  Melanie nodded and yawned again.

  “You’ve had a pretty rough night yourself. Have you eaten anything?”

  “Do ten cups of coffee and a Snickers bar count?”

  He chuckled. “How about some breakfast?”

  “That sounds good.” She tugged at her rumpled ribbed sweater and smoothed her bell-bottom pants. “But I’m a mess.”

  “You look good to me,” he said.

  After a moment’s uncertainty, Melanie removed her purse from the passenger seat. “Come on. Get in.”

  He ran around to the other side of the car and jumped in. Ten minutes later, with more light in the sky, they drove past Ports O’Call Village and pulled up in front of McNeil’s Pub.

  Ted peered at the building “I don’t think this place is open for breakfast.”

  “It will be as soon as I unlock the door.”

  Once inside the bar, Melanie led Ted into the kitchen. She fried up some ham and eggs and put out some cherry Danish she’d bought fresh the day before. They made small talk while she cooked; chatting about the people they worked with at Harbor Station. Ted didn’t share what he had experienced the night before, and that pleased Melanie, because she really didn’t want to hear about it. In fact, she welcomed the distraction cooking provided, lest her mind dwell on what she had been through with Caroline and Eric.

  They ate quickly and in silence for almost ten minutes, both famished in body and spirit. Ted put his fork down and lit a cigarette. “You know, I used to come to this bar when I was in the service. I don’t remember seeing you here, though.”

  “Oh, I was around, but I was too young to wait tables.”

  “How old are you now?”

  “Twenty-one.”

  Ted scanned his surroundings. “Have you always lived here?”

  “As long as I can remember. Mom and Dad met while he was stationed at Long Beach in the Navy and bought this place afterward.”

  “And your Mom?”

  “She died when I was twelve.”

  “That’s rough, I’m sorry”

  Melanie stared off into space and nodded.

  “And what made you want to work for the LAPD?”

  “I didn’t intend to. I applied for a job with the City of Los Angeles and that’s where the openings were. I need a regular paycheck until I can support myself with my singing.”

  “A singer, huh?”

  “Yeah. I know it’s a long shot, but it’s what I’ve always wanted to do.”

  “No, I think it’s terrific. You should go for it.”

  “You’ve haven’t even heard me sing,” she said with a smile, but felt a twinge of embarrassment when he grinned back. So she changed the subject, “Did you always want to be a cop?”

  “Heck, no. All I was looking for was a good time when I came back from ‘Nam. But that only lasted until I’d spent all of my separation money and started getting desperate. I saw an ad in the paper, and here I am.”

  “Somehow, I envisioned you having some noble reason. Like saving the world from itself, or something.”

  Ted laughed and said, “Is that how I come off?”

  Melanie shrugged.

  He took a drag of his cigarette and said, “I’m going to have to work on that.”

  “No, don’t,” she pleaded. “I think you have a nice way about you.”

  Ted’s eyes widened. “Does that mean you’d go out with me sometime?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.”

  She saw his chin drop and added, “Don’t take it personally. I don’t date any policemen.”

  “Why not?”

  “Lots of reasons, but last night is the best one I can think of at the moment.”

  They both appeared relieved when her father, a bald-headed man in his fifties, walked in yawning.

  “Well, good morning,’ he said at the sight of Ted sitting at the table with Melanie.

  “Good morning, Daddy.” Melanie rose and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sorry if we woke you.” She poured him a cup of coffee and set it on the table.

  “Time I got up anyway.” He took a seat in front of the coffee cup, but kept his eyes on Ted.

  “This is Ted Swain, a new officer at the station. Ted this is my father, Benny McNeil.”

  “How do you do Mr. McNeil.”

  Benny hesitated, acting a little confused.

  “Dad?”

  “Oh, nice to meet you son. I’m just a little surprised, that’s all. Melanie doesn
’t usually bring anybody home from work.”

  “This was different. Ted was involved in a shooting last night, and—”

  “No kidding,” Benny said. “Did you get him?”

  “Ah, yes sir. We did.”

  “Good.” Benny sipped his coffee.

  Ted, checked his watch, and stood up. “I’d better get going. I’ve got a long drive.”

  “Where’s home?” Benny said.

  “North Long Beach.”

  “You had any sleep lately?”

  “About twenty four hours ago.”

  “You’re welcome to stay her.”

  Melanie couldn’t believe what Benny had said. “Oh,” She added,” He probably would rather go home. After all he—”

  But before she could finish, Ted smiled at her and said that he’d like to stay.

  Benny wasted no time. “Come on, I’ll show you the room.”

  Melanie shook her head as she watched Benny lead Ted down the hallway.

  ◆◆◆

  Melanie had different days off at Harbor Station every month, and she liked the flexibility, because in addition to working there and for her father, she belonged to a rock band. The members had formed the group while in high school and asked Melanie and her friend, Karen, to join them. When she took the job at the PD, the group members weren’t happy. They complained she had sold out to the “establishment.”

  She couldn’t deny that there was some truth to that. No one at Harbor station was aware of her singing gigs, because she didn’t want the department to know she spent her days off with a rock band and its audiences, which were often high on a variety of illegal substances. It had become a balancing act for her to maintain living in both worlds, but it was worth it. She also knew that the band didn’t have much choice, but to accept her job at the PD. She was their star attraction.

  “That was a great audience,” Melanie said coming backstage.

  “And you look great,” Karen said, as she eyed Melanie’s black leather mini skirt and low cut flowered blouse.

  Melanie smiled in thanks, as she gathered her belongings to leave. “We should’ve done another number.”