11: Exposing Oneself to the Authorities

You don’t always need a plan.

Sometimes you just need to breathe, trust,

let go and see what happens.

Mandy Hale

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Phil called, hurrying to the door.

He was suspicious about someone pounding on his door, since the hotel specialized in guarding their resident’s privacy. Yet it wasn’t unknown for individuals to slip past the front desk. The odds it might be a reporter were offset by the chance someone was seeking assistance.

Opening the door, he was confronted by two familiar faces.

“Officers Smithers and Andrews? This is quite a surprise. What did I do this time?”

The same tiny red demons swarmed around Andrews as before, which made it difficult looking him in the eyes. Instead, Phil concentrated on his partner as Andrews answered.

“Sorry for the rude interruption, but no. You’re not in any trouble. We’re here to ask a personal favor.”

“You’re requesting my help? After your department threatened to search for crimes to pin on me? Somehow that doesn’t seem likely.”

Noticing Phil responded to his question without engaging him, Smithers stepped in, hoping to counter any hard feelings.

“We apologize for those words, but you can hardly blame us for the actions of Detective Jones. Besides, I’m sure you can understand there were ... extenuating circumstances. You also don’t need to refer to us by our surnames. My name is Tina, while my partner’s is Floyd. However, we’ve been following the reports of your helping the mentally ill, and—”

“In short, you were searching for something you could accuse me of?”

Andrews glanced down, appearing contrite. His demons weren’t quite as active as when he was upset, which Phil took as a good sign.

“Actually, it wasn’t our department that initiated this request. Instead, it was the Philadelphia District Attorney who called us. They heard about your accomplishments and thought you might be able to help with a case. They’ve got a ... tricky situation.”

Phil leaned against his door jamb, considering them. “If they need my assistance, why ask two officers from a department with such a low opinion of me? Why not call me directly?”

“That was our reaction,” Floyd explained. “We were told about you by witnesses, but thought it was a scam. However, the DA thought your claims worth investigating. Seems you’ve impacted a significant number of individuals there. They wanted our input on reaching out to you.”

“They thought you’d respond to a familiar face, rather than strange patrolmen from the city,” his partner offered.

“Those claims are pure conjecture by select individuals, and don’t represent my position. Yet it doesn’t explain why you’re knocking on my door with your hat in hand.”

Floyd’s demons flew a little faster as they whispered warnings about Phil, but he glanced up with a sheepish smile. “The Philadelphia PD picked up our arrest record. They hoped we could make a personal approach, rather than cold-calling you out of the blue.”

“It doesn’t explain why you’re here, though. This isn’t your case. You’re getting nothing out of contacting me, and so far, I haven’t heard an apology.”

Floyd’s demons buzzed faster, their calls growing in volume, but he bit his lip, taking a moment to compose himself. “I apologize for my ... overly aggressive behavior. Like many cops, I have a few anger issues.”

Tina laughed. “Does he ever, but it shows his change in attitude. He never apologizes to anyone!”

“Anyway, you’re right,” Floyd continued. “Normally we’d never hear of it, but the Philly police wanted to learn what we thought of you. After we admitted you seemed calm and confident, and everyone we interviewed was convinced you’re authentic, they reached out to us.”

“That’s a diplomatic way of phrasing it,” Tina said. “The DA spoke to our Chief and had us reassigned so we could intervene on their behalf. As for Detective Jones’ threats, I wouldn’t worry. When our transfer was arranged, the Upper Darby Police Chief sat him down and read him the riot act. You won’t be hearing from him again.”

“I have yet to hear either of you say you personally believe anything,” Phil reminded them. “If you don’t, why are you here?”

“Look, we were both skeptical, but everyone we’ve met is sure you’re legit. We’re still dubious, but this is an important case. If there’s anything to these assertions, this is a chance to document it.”

Phil growled, running his hand through his hair. “Without giving credence to these claims, does this ‘tricky situation’ have anything to do with a fellow officer?”

“No, it’s a suspect. He committed some terrible crimes. We need him to reveal what his partners are planning, including potential booby traps which might injure civilians. Whenever they ask, he utters nonsensical rants.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll call my lawyer first, so he’ll know in case this is an attempt to lure me out. I’ll accompany you because I’m curious, but I prefer having a couple associates tag along.”

“Whatever it takes to resolve the matter,” Floyd said. “We’re eager to rectify the situation. Our careers are sorta on the line over this.”

“Let me grab my coat,” Phil said, stepping inside.

Phil, Ethan and Emma stood behind a one-way glass with Officers Smithers, Andrews and their supervisor, Sergeant Gregory Becker. They observed another officer attempt to interrogate the suspect, Hannibal Malcolm, with little success.

Tina turned away from the window to study Phil. “What do you think?”

“I’m intrigued. Without admitting anything about my techniques or claiming any specific expertise, I’m sure I can help, but I’m conflicted.” He turned, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. “If I assist you and restore his competency, you’ll undoubtedly charge him with several capital offenses—even though he’s clearly insane. By aiding you, I’ll be complicit in putting him on death row while stripping him of his rightful legal defense.”

“We’ve requested a court appointed lawyer,” Becker explained, “but they’re not always terribly prompt, especially since we wouldn’t release the specific details over the phone.”

“A lawyer is necessary, but since he’s not talking anyway, I’m not sure it’ll make much difference. I’m referring to what effect I’ll have on his case.”

“Can you get him talking?” Becker asked, just to clarify his position.

Phil waved the concern aside. “I can have him singing like a canary, but I’m unwilling to help until you can guarantee you won’t charge him. I won’t be a party to your railroading the man.”

“There are people’s lives at risk,” Andrews said, his demons growing increasingly antsy.

“I understand, but I’m telling you the situation is complicated. While I’m convinced he committed the crime, it’s clear he’s innocent due to his mental instability. I can’t help you unless you can assure me it won’t result in an unjustified conviction.”

“He killed at least one man,” Andrews said. “He knew the repercussions of his actions.”

“I’m aware of that, as well as the threat to others if you can’t uncover what he did. It doesn’t address the fact you’re asking me to circumvent this man’s legitimate legal defense.”

“What about the two of you?” Sgt. Becker studied Emma and Ethan’s responses. “Can you cure him?” He was young for such a senior position; thin, a little gaunt with chiseled features and short dark hair.

Ethan held his hands up, palms out. “Hey, I’m only here offering support. This is purely in Phil’s hands. However, I was schizophrenic only a week ago, so I can attest he can accomplish what he claims.”

“There’s also the threat to Mr. Walker’s safety,” Emma advised. “As you can see from his injuries, he’s been injured during these procedures before.”

“The suspect is restrained, he can’t hurt him,” Andrews asserted.

“We’re not worried about Hannibal. Phil’s technique itself is dangerous. He needs to be sure he isn’t risking his life needlessly.”

“What if I promise to charge him with a lesser crime?” Sgt. Becker proposed.

“You aren’t authorized to make the call. Whatever you propose, it’s the district attorney who dictates what he’ll stand trial for. I’m guessing he knew what he was asking, which is why he didn’t bother showing up. Until you can guarantee this request isn’t an end-run around his constitutional protections, I can’t assist you.”

“We can compel you to act,” Floyd threatened.

Phil chuckled. “To do what? You don’t even understand what I do. If you did, you’d already have done it.”

“I’ll discuss this with the DA. He’s still in court on another case, though it’ll be a hard sell,” Becker offered. “Can you give us assurances of your results before I present it to him?”

“I’ll do better than that,” Phil promised. “I can demonstrate his actions are beyond his control. It’s a bit unorthodox. You should contact the district attorney and you’ll need some video to confirm it, but I’m sure it’ll convince you. Oh, I’ll also require one of your Tasers.”

“Are the two of you ready?”

“As much as we ever are,” Ethan answered. “The last time, we didn’t help much.”

Phil studied the suspect. “I’m used to dealing with these. They don’t respond very quickly, but this will definitely get their attention, so be prepared.”

“Is this necessary?” Sgt. Becker asked over the intercom. “And who are these people you keep mentioning?”

“Your invisible rays won’t alter my brain!” Malcolm shouted, without provocation. “Alien signals counter your lasers, you can’t control me!” He flinched from something no one, Phil included, could see. “Get off me!”

His demons screamed what the police were doing to him, making it difficult for Phil to make out what everyone was saying.

“This is mainly to convince you. I suspect you’ll have a better idea once you see the demonstration.” He studied Malcolm for several moments, his finger poised on the Taser, his eyes wandering around Malcolm’s head. “All right, here goes.”

Squeezing the trigger, two electric leads shot out, trailing thin plastic wires. They stopped dead in mid-air and a loud “Zzzt!” echoed in the enclosed room. They then dropped, the wires coiling around them.

Floyd leaned forward, staring at the empty space the Taser struck. “What the hell was that?”

“Uh oh,” Phil whispered, stepping back, his hands dropping. His companions both stiffening at his words.

“What did you do?” Malcolm gasped, his first sensible statement while in custody. “Everything vanished, the voices are gone.”

Phil dropped the Taser, lifted his cane and reached into his pouch, withdrawing his metal javelin.

“What the hell is that?” Floyd demanded. “You can’t bring weapons in here!”

“They’re watching me,” he whispered, staring over Malcolm’s head. They’re buzzing amongst themselves.”

They flew at him in one organized offensive. Instead of retreating, Phil lunged forward, stabbing one in the chest, his javelin turning its traditional red. He twisted, thrusting his cane up hard, smacking another, however two others attacked his face and he stumbled back.

“What the f•©k?” Floyd swore, unsure whether to restrain or assist the man with the sharpened weapon.

The small, naked black demons attacking Phil relented momentarily, glancing at Emma, shifting back to hover in mid-air. Ethan waved something in the air and they turned towards him, providing Phil his opportunity. He spun, swinging his cane, creating a moving target. When his assailants realized the others weren’t a threat, they resumed their attack. Thrusting with his left hand, he struck a glancing blow, wounding another. Since it didn’t die, his javelin’s crimson cast remained, drops flying when he waved it back.

The two remaining demons flew at him, aiming for his face. The wounded one’s aim was off due to its clipped wing, missing him entirely. The other went for the wound on his face, tearing his bandage with its claws.

Shouting in pain, Phil hunched over, swinging his cane, clipping the injured demon. Yet he was unable to dislodge the one shredding his face. Ethan kept flashing his light, invisible to the horrified police watching events unfold. Emma rushed forward, clutching at his wound while blowing her whistle.

The tiny creature twisted, snarling at her. Phil lurched back, his skin tearing further, swinging his cane again. He struck Emma in the face, sending her reeling, but eliminated his final foe.

Malcolm stared at everyone, his eyes wide. “What the hell happened? Who are all of you?”

Phil sank to one knee, clutching his cheek as warm blood dripped down his fingers and onto his shirt. “Don’t say another word. Insist on a lawyer, but don’t agree to a thing until you talk to me.”

Floyd, seeing an opportunity to act without being clocked, intervened. “You’re coming with me,” he exclaimed, grabbing Phil and wrestling him to the ground.

The door burst open, Sgt. Becker and several others rushed into the room. “Get off him, you idiot. He was attacked! Are you both okay?”

“I’m fine,” Emma said, sitting up and holding her cheek. “I managed to buy him the few moments he needed.”

“Sorry,” Floyd said, climbing off Phil. “You were going crazy. When I saw you slug your girlfriend...”

“Don’t worry about it. It was a chaotic scene, but if you want assistance with your anger issues, we can talk later.”

“Do you care to explain what we just witnessed?” Capt. Becker demanded.

“Not particularly. You’ll either accept what you saw or you won’t. My adding insignificant details won’t matter.”

“Where did you all come from? What’s going on?” Malcolm asked again.

Phil spun around, his face still bleeding. “Shut the hell up! These people are going to put you to death in a show trial! Don’t say anything. When they assign you a lawyer, have him contact me.” He reached in his pocket, handing him a card. “Now, I think I’d better return to the emergency room.”

“Toni?”

“Dad? What’s wrong? Did something happen? It’s not like you to call out of the blue.”

Phil hunched over his phone, shielding it with his hand, watching for any passing interns. “Don’t panic, there’s no problem at the moment, but I’m ... back in the ER again.”

“Oh, Dad, not again! You’ve got to slow down, otherwise you won’t last long.”

“Don’t worry. The two policemen from the other day came by my apartment and—”

“Oh, God, you weren’t arrested again, were you?”

“No, no. They were asking for my assistance. The Philly PD heard the claims about me, but wanted to be sure I was legit. After explaining why I couldn’t do as they requested, I provided a little demonstration, which didn’t go so well. Now they’re pissed as hell because I refuse to railroad someone who had no clue what he was doing.”

“You know, for such a resourceful guy, you don’t think things through. For as often as you require emergency assistance, it’s not wise to piss off the people who save your ass.”

“The police never saved my damn ass, thank you very much. As for the police seeking to hurt me, don’t worry. They need me, though I doubt they feel comfortable about it at the moment. I’m currently waiting on x-rays. The gash in my face is worse. My cheek is a deep purple beneath the bandages. It will require a few stitches, but they want to ensure my cheekbone isn’t further damaged.”

“I realize you’re trying, but you’re not terribly reassuring at the moment. Do you need me to come and pick you up?”

“No. It’ll be a while before they release me, and the Philly cops want me back.” Phil glared at the two uniformed officers standing outside the room. “Emma and Ethan are here, but I didn’t want you and Jane to panic if you learn what happened. Things are calm now. We’re just waiting to—.”

The two policemen stopped someone. “I’m sorry, sir, you can’t enter without authorization.”

Toni responded to her father’s silence. “Oh, no, what’s wrong now?”

“Look, honey, I’ve got to go. Something’s come up. I’ll call you later tonight and update you on my status.”

“I’m a senior physician here. I treated this man yesterday, so I’m familiar with his case.”

“Dad? Dad, don’t...” She was left speaking to a dead line, wondering what her father had gotten himself into this time.

Samuel stepped inside the partitioned curtains. “You’re back? You were only gone a day and you’re beat up again?”

“Sorry, just another day plumbing toilets. You know those sewer gators play rough.”

“Very funny,” he said, examining Phil’s cheek for himself. “We googled you after one of the nurses mentioned hearing about you. Seems you’ve got quite the reputation. Not for fighting mind you, since you keep getting beaten up by nobody. Instead you seem to be single handedly curing the city’s homeless.”

Phil pulled back. “Shh. I’d rather not alert everyone in the city.”

“I’d say it’s too late. Coming in with your own police escort tends to attract attention.”

Samuel leaned back, consulting a chart before passing it to him. “When I discovered you were back, I intercepted your case.” He paused, considering Emma and Ethan. “Do you want to discuss your results in private?”

“No, I’m not worried about anything they might hear.” Phil indicated the guards outside with his head. “As for them, I don’t mind their hearing either. Hopefully, they’ll drop a couple hints to their supervisor and maybe he’ll offer some financial compensation.”

“It’s okay including your friends, especially since they brought you in, but releasing the information to complete strangers, especially those who might use the information for their own uses, is tricky. I doubt they can hear us anyway, as the ER isn’t terribly quiet this time of day.” Samuel paused, indicating Phil’s cheek. “There are additional bone chips floating around, but it’s not too serious. I need to flush your wound again. Did anything contaminate it this time?”

Phil sighed, glancing at the x-ray, unsure what it signaled. “No, these were the usual suspects this time, not the more exotic ones. They tore my cuts with their hands, but I didn’t have a problem the last time they did it. The others were a bit ... grungier.”

Intrigued, Samuel examined his injury again. “As insipid as that sounds, your wound supports your claims. There are tiny tears and miniature stretch marks in the skin as if some little man wrestled your face.”

“Not some man,” Ethan volunteered. “Demons. Black ones this time.”

“Please, can we not reveal our every intimate detail?” Phil pleaded.

“Hey, I promised the man I’d give him some dirt. After taking care of you, you’d think you’d be more appreciative.”

“I’ll seal the injury,” Samuel said, removing the temporary bandage. “If I employ stitches or staples, it’ll tear worse next time. I’ll use surgical glue instead. That’ll hold the cut shut, while not inflicting more damage if ripped open.” He hesitated, studying Phil’s response. “What did you do to this demon: sleep with his girlfriend or something? He seems especially pissed at you.”

“It’s not just one,” Emma corrected him. “There were a bunch. They weren’t pleased when he tasered one of their pals in the police department’s interrogation room.”

Samuel turned, forgetting his patient for the moment. “They were questioning him? Did he attack someone else?”

“Oh no, he was treating a terrorism suspect when he was attacked. That’s what the officers are for. They’re eager to return our little ballerina in one piece.”

He turned back, removing the rest of the gauze. “You are one weird bunch. I think you’ve got a full moon at Halloween on Friday the thirteenth beat. No one’s going to top this level of crazy.”

The two patrolmen entered, staring down the doctor and Phil. “We hate interrupting, but we couldn’t help overhearing. That’s privileged information. It’s a crime to reveal the events of an ongoing criminal investigation.”

“Sorry,” Samuel replied, applying a clear liquid to Phil’s cuts. “It won’t happen again.”

“Thank you,” Phil told the policemen. “If you don’t mind, we’d prefer some privacy.”

The cops glanced at each other as they left. “Told you it was a mistake saying anythin’. Now we’ll never learn what actually happened.”

Samuel considered Phil again. “So much for not minding hearing your prognosis, but I’d worry more about your people. They seem to like to kiss and tell.”

“Hey, don’t blame me. It’s my two assistants who keep blabbing the details. That’s what you get when you use volunteers rather than professionals.”

Samuels curiosity got the better of him. “Did demons seriously do this to you?”

“Little tiny ones,” Emma admitted, holding her fingers a few inches apart. “Seems they don’t appreciate being slaughtered any more than they like being exposed.”

“Who knew? You’d think it would be a normal part of their day.” Samuel applied a new bandage. “There. Good as new. Hopefully it’ll last at least another day or two. Now if your police escort can only keep the forces of hell on a tighter leash, you need time to recover.” He grinned at Emma.

“You don’t have to buy me a drink, little lady. After they hear these details, drinks will be on the house for the next few weeks!”

“Mr. Walker,” a stranger in a pinstriped suit said as Phil entered the now-familiar squad room. “I’m glad you could make it back.” He was accompanied by Sergeant Becker, who remained a step behind him. “I’m William Davis, the District Attorney for this region.”

“It’s a little hard to avoid returning with a police escort watching my every move. Somehow, I gather you have something to tell me?”

“First, how’s your cheek? I understand you suffered additional injuries assisting us.”

William was an older man, impeccably dressed. He had longer wavy hair—for a career city attorney—with a graying thin beard, mustache and eyebrows. The gray hadn’t reached the thick hair on his head yet.

“It’s fine,” Phil said, waving the concern away. “Though I’m earning a reputation as a frequent flier in the ER.”

“Don’t worry about the costs,” Sgt. Becker assured him. “I discussed it with the City Council. We’ll cover all expenses you incurred working for us.”

“That’s appreciated, but I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. What’s your decision concerning Hannibal? Somehow I doubt you went to all this trouble just to avoid a potential lawsuit. After all, you employ plenty of lawyers.”

William chuckled. “You speak from the heart. I like that. Your supposition is correct. We’d like to offer Mr. Malcolm a deal.” His self-assurance signaled the DA was used to getting his way by sheer strength of will. Phil wasn’t sure whether he could trust him or not.

“In that case, why are you talking to me and not his attorney?”

William frowned, realizing he wasn’t winning any points with his current approach. When he hesitated, Sgt. Becker stepped in.

“While the offer is for Mr. Malcolm, we’re presenting it to you. He refuses to say anything based on your council before you left. He won’t even talk to his court-appointed lawyer. We’re eager to interview him to uncover the extent of his network and discover what he and his accomplices are planning.”

“Given the circumstances, I’m authorizing full immunity for Hannibal,” William stated. “That’s based upon a full confession and guilty plea, just in case he tries something in the future. However, he won’t serve any time for any crimes he committed while he was incapable of making objective decisions.”

“That’s reassuring. What about psychiatric confinement? Saying you won’t jail him doesn’t mean much if he’ll spend the rest of his life institutionalized.”

“He’ll need to be evaluated by our experts, but I’m willing to guarantee he’s now emotionally stable enough to be judged legally competent. However, since he won’t speak to us, we haven’t been able to make an independent evaluation of his mental state.”