Ten Plagues

Paul was instantly alert. They’d started getting along so well he’d forgotten the little fact that Keren had started out hating his guts. “Okay.”

“You never really met me. Everything you did was on paper and on TV.”

Paul tried to remember.

“I arrested a man who was wanted for a string of crimes, including one you were working on. It was a B and E, nonviolent. No gun.” Keren’s eyes lost their focus as if she were looking into the past. “It was the weirdest thing, the way I caught him. It was a pure accident. I was just new to the detective unit, and we were called in, hours after the fact, to this B and E. I was poking around in the alley behind the high-rise, and here comes this boy out of a ground-floor window. We had a decent description of him and I was sure he was our guy. He should have been long gone. There was no reason why he would have still been hanging around. It was like he was delivered into my hands. I yelled, and he just lay down. I never even drew my gun. I slapped the cuffs on him and while I was securing him, I sensed the demon.”

“He was possessed,” Paul said.

“Yeah. The other cops were all over him so I couldn’t do anything right then, but I rode back to lockup with him. I never left his side while he was booked. Then I got a chance to talk to him alone in the interrogation room. I only said a few words to him about the demon. The boy was so ready to turn to God, I’ll always believe that somehow he stayed behind, waiting for me. It was all in the hands of God from the minute I responded to that call.”

“So you led him to the Lord?” Paul asked, feeling the spurt of pleasure that always lifted him when he heard of someone turning their life around.

“Right there in that dingy room.” Keren smiled at the memory. “And he really was changed. I visited him every day in jail. I was afraid for him to be in such a bleak place with his new faith. I spent hours talking to him. I had my pastor go in to see him, and a group from our church that ministers to prisoners virtually adopted him. The poor guy was swamped with Christian support.”

Paul said, “And he was one of my cases?”

Keren nodded. “Lucas Vilsack. You probably remember him because he was six foot seven and had bright green hair when he was arrested.”

Paul snapped his fingers. “He got out of jail and went to college. He’s playing forward for Notre Dame.”

“That’s the guy.”

“I remember him. I tied him to a string of burglaries that went back two years.”

“Sixteen months. He started in when he became possessed. Ran away from a really good home, lived on the street.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is—”

Paul cut her off as the light dawned. “I came stomping in on that case and found out he was being given probation and community service. He was going to walk.”

“Because I had been working my butt off arranging for him to walk. While he was out on bail, he’d met with every one of his victims and arranged to pay them back. He had plans to do community service by speaking to high schools about the mistakes he’d made with his life. He’d already given a couple of speeches and they were wonderful. He could really have reached some kids. And he was back in school and involved in a youth group in my church. I had contacted every jurisdiction where he was wanted. He was making no effort to cover up any offenses, because he admitted to things that hadn’t even been connected to him. I’d talked to everyone and urged them to meet him and judge for themselves if his remorse was genuine. And that includes you. I called you and—”

“I wrecked it. I wanted to make an example of him. I couldn’t be bothered to meet him, and I was sure he was just conning a rookie detective. I used my influence to make sure he did some real time.”

“Five years. He got out in two because he was a model prisoner.”

Paul closed his eyes as more details came back. “And I did my best to have you, and every other cop who was letting him off the hook, busted back to a uniform.”

“There were four of us. One was older and he took early retirement. The other two ended up walking a beat for a while, but they eventually left the force. They were all three good cops who didn’t see a future for themselves once they had bad paper in their jackets from the charges you filed against us.”

“But you stayed on.”

“I managed to hang on to my detective shield, mainly because I was a woman, which made me furious on the other guys’ behalf, but I was too much of a wimp to resign in protest. I spent six months sitting in the evidence locker doing paperwork. The only reason I stuck with it was because I felt police work was where God wanted me. Then I found something in an evidence box that broke open a case O’Shea was working. He got me transferred. We’ve been partners for two years now.”

“And it was my fault.”

Keren gave him a squinty-eyed look. For some reason it pleased Paul that she didn’t just wave it off and say, “No big deal, what’s six months of my life?”