The Witch's Bottle

Chapter 3 - Prosperity and Abundance

"Central from Six-three David. We'll be out on South Bridge moving a vagrant," I said as I pulled to the side of the road and put the car in park.

"Central copy, Six-three David... 16:40."

Maxine put the overhead flashers on, and we got out of the RMP as we walked towards a homeless guy. He was lying against the town welcome sign. 

The once vibrant green background had oxidized. Its bronze letters chipped and cracked, rusted to a pale blue. Both posts were tall and thick. The cross of Saint James capped them.

PROSPERITY AND ABUNDANCE

WELCOME TO THE HEIGHTS

ORIGINALLY

"HEIGHTS OF KING JAMES COUNTY"

FOUNDED IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD, 1650

Maxine tapped the vagrant on the leg with her gloved hand and motioned for him to move on. He stood, his fireball bottles spilling from his lap.

"Let's get a move on, Skippy," I said as Maxine glared at me for taking a harsher approach. 

He staggered away in compliance, but not without the expected mutterings. This time it was the classic “F you pig,” as he made his way off the bridge across the town line into the five-five precinct.

Suddenly, his entire demeanor changed. He seemed to have a moment of complete lucidity. He was steady and in full control of his faculties. Then, he turned and walked back towards me and looked me dead in the eye.

"Take your wife’s urine, and cork it in a bottle with nails." He stepped closer. I could smell his breath, which wreaked from whiskey and tooth rot. 

"Stand back, man," I said as I grimaced at his pungent odor. 

"Pins and Needles and bury it in the Earth, and that will do the feat."

"Wait. What? "Piss, cork, and a bottle?" An eerie look fell over his lips as his eyes glazed over.

"Yes, a witch's bottle."  

I laughed out loud. "Just move." I waited for Maxine to respond to my reaction. When she didn't, I looked at her. 

She trembled as if a chill had run down her spine. Her face was pale, and her lips were purple. It appeared her blood had run cold. 

Careful not to take my eyes off the homeless guy, I saw Maxine head to the RMP. 

I watched him walk down the road. Then, before I could get to the car, Maxine called us back in service.

By the time I got to the rear of the RMP, she had pushed the driver's side door open. When I got in, I felt the tension. She was stiff as a board and stared out of the windshield. 

I didn’t know why she had become so rattled by what he said, but it worried me.

"Hey." I tried to snap her out of her stare. "Maxiiiine. Echo-Six-Kilo to Sexy-Maxine-Actual, how copy?" She didn't even flinch. 

I put the car in drive and did a U-turn to head back into the Heights. I reached over and tapped her on the shoulder. She finally came to.

"I heard you," she barked and slapped my hand away. "Stop!" She flexed her fingers out of anger. "And I don't think you're funny either, Kelly."

I apologized and changed the subject. I hoped she would get back to her usual self. 

"So, Max, who exactly wants to kill Johnny Keegan?"

"Everyone, Kelly." She paused out of frustration to catch her breath. "He screwed up the undercover the other night at Potter Cemetery."

I glanced over at her and noticed she had loosened up. She leaned back against the headrest and tapped her leg with her fingers.

"They got Gremlin with forty oxy," I said. "And enough molly on him to kill an elephant." 

Max still hadn't made eye contact with me. Instead, she leaned forward and turned both the heat and car stereo up.

"Yeah, but Keegan dislocated Gremlin's shoulder by tackling him into a tombstone. And then punched him after he handcuffed him." 

She picked up and sipped from her cup of coffee. I noticed that her tapping had stopped. Her knee, however, bounced as her anxiety grew.

"Sweet Jesus weeping on the cross," I said. "Really? And did you forget that Gremlin and 4-Stroke put Sergeant Tee in the hospital?"

"No, I didn't forget, but it was just bizarre the way he reacted."

The frustration in her voice was heavy and exacerbated.

"I mean, at first, Keegan was calm. The narcs lured Gremlin in, and we were waiting in the chase car. But then, when they moved on him, it got crazy.”

We pulled up to the light at the Boulevard and Third. Max just stared out the window and rubbed her arms like she was cold. She wore her long-sleeve uniform shirt with a turtleneck underneath. She always complained about how she was hot, so this was odd behavior for her. But it was time to pry.

The light turned green. I turned the corner and pulled into a stall, putting the car in park. I looked over at her. Her leg was no longer bouncing. Instead, she played with her ponytail. I watched as her fingers moved from the black ruffled scrunchie towards the trim of her hair.

"So, what was so strange?" I asked with trepidation in my voice. There was an uneasy pause, only momentarily, but enough for me to worry.

"Keegan's never afraid. He's always cocky and ready for anything," said Max. 

She finally made eye contact with me and shook her head.

"He was fine. Then, they said Gremlin was running through Potter’s field, and Keegan got nervous. He jumped out of the car and sprinted into the cemetery... No warning, no radio call, no nothing. When I got to him, he was pummeling Gremlin, and I mean, he was completely out of control. But it wasn't anger, Kelly. It was fear."

"That makes little sense, Max. Was he saying anything?"

"Yes. This is what you get. He said it constantly. Then he said no demon s**t is going to get me."

"What the hell does that mean?" I was growing more concerned with each passing moment. Something spooked Maxine. Keegs talked about demons. And some weirdo down-and-outer talked about urine, nails, and a witch's bottle. 

Maxine leaned over and rested her head on my shoulder. Then she wrapped both of her arms around my right bicep and cuddled.

"I don't know," she whispered. "All I can tell you is when they got him inside, narcotics lost it. They put Keegs in an interrogation room, away from everyone. At first, you could hear them screaming at him, and then it got quiet. All three guys were in there with Keegan the entire time."

Max still held my right arm. I put my right hand on her thigh, and I picked up my cell with my left. My phone opened to speed dial. I pressed on his number and waited. I hoped he was out of the box with Internal Affairs. 

"He sent me to voicemail," I barked, and let out a sigh of frustration. 

I kissed Max on the forehead and took my arm back. I put the car into drive, and we pulled onto the roadway. A few minutes passed before my phone buzzed. It was a text from Keegs. 

“It’s from Keegs. We’re meeting him at Cohan’s.”

Max got angry and snapped at me.

"I really hate him, Kelly. I hope you know that, and I hope you know what you're doing."

"Of course." I smiled. "I always know what I'm doing."

I had the feeling that something drastic was about to happen, something that was going to change our lives for good. This wasn't just some silly superstitious nonsense that Keegs were spouting. I knew something terrible was coming. What he did and how he acted scared me. I was close to this now and had to find out why.

Keegs was waiting for us inside Cohan's. He was way ahead with the booze and sat on the first barstool near the window. I could see him from the street. 

"A Country Boy Can Survive" looped on the jukebox.

Keegs sang into his pint and stared at the Blue and Green Irish Police Flag on the wall behind the bar. He was oblivious to everything. I couldn't get his attention.

Dollar bills and loose quarters were sitting on the countertop, crumpled and in disarray. A pint of black beer sat in front of Keegan with three shot glasses.

Jack Cohan, who owned the pub, was slowly wiping the bar. He threw a glare my way. His anger wasn't meant for Keegs or me, and I knew it.

Maxine rolled her eyes after seeing Keegan and walked past us to talk to Jack. He greeted her with a hug and a huge smile. He loved her and lit up whenever she came in.

Jack was an old timer, a cop's cop whom Police Reform cured. He was an old salt Vietnam vet, and still tough as nails. He opened the bar in 1977 while still on the job. 

He filled the walls with memorabilia from the old days. There were pictures of the old timers making arrests, wearing riot gear, and posing next to old school RMPs with those ugly cherry red dome lights.

The Framing wall was in the very back. It’s a row of profile pictures surrounded by blue and black bunting. Four ornamental spotlights cast a dim shadow on the matching frames. They were graduation or promotion pictures of those who died in the line of duty in service of the six-three. 

Jack leaned over and kissed Maxine on the cheek, and they hugged. Max smiled back, and they talked. A few old timers sat at the end of the bar and called Jack for another Manhattan and Whiskey and Rye. 

Then, before he poured more drinks, he threw me a rag for Keegan.

I wiped the beer that spilled from Keegs' mouth as he continually sang and sipped, drooling all over himself. On the bar was his badge, wallet and off-duty 380.

Cohan's was a cop bar. It wasn't a good idea for Max and me to be there because we were on duty. But this was the safest place for him right now. It was rat-free, and only respected badges were welcome before business hours. Johnny Keegan and I were two of that elite lot of cop's cops.

I sat next to Keegs as Max walked over and put her chin on my shoulder. When Keegan saw her, he smiled, drank, and let out a huge "Ah." 

Immediately irritated, Max stiffened up and crossed her arms. Keegs turned back to face me and finally talked.

"You remember my buddy, Tommy Parker?" Keegs, before he took a swig. "He used to deal hash down on the Boulevard, about.... eight years ago?" He paused as he took another big gulp and bit on his lip. "Lady Blue here locked him up for D.U.I."

"Screw you, Keegan! I'm not listening to this," she said and turned.

Keegan smiled as I took her by the arm and asked her to stay. 

"You two have to ceasefire," I said. "You're my best man, and you're going to be my wife. So, you've got to get along." Maxine angrily pulled away from me and said she'd wait in the car. 

I dropped my head to the bar, frustrated, as Keegs put his hand on my shoulder. He apologized and called for a refill. But unfortunately, his apology meant nothing. There was no sincerity in his tone and clear drunken stupor.

"So, Tommy Parker?" 

He told me that Tommy had been clean for almost two years before falling back into an addiction to salts.

"That new peace-love-doper place on 105th, the homicide the other day? Apparently, they're selling more out of that place than just granola and Jesus sandals. They got some kind of coven worship going on in the basement." He drank half of the pint and wiped his mouth.

"Tommy was running mescaline for them, for their super-secret midnight rituals. Has to be pure, nothing synthetic. Gives them the high they need to contact the demon world. That's what he told me, at least."

"Jesus," I said. "And L.R.E.C. (La Reza Nation East Coast) found out." 

Keegs shook his head in agreement and took a swig from his pint. Then nodded and forced down a shot. Cohan was lining them up for him now. 

"These coven people lured him in with free s*x and all the salts he could want." Keegs’ voice cracked, and his countenance fell. "There was a girl too—a redhead with a purple streak in her hair."

Keegan came undone as he dropped his head into his hands. The pint he was drinking spilled. Cohan threw me another rag.

"Tommy Parker," said Keegs, as he teared up. "Told me she was like a goddess or some s**t. She was his girlfriend, and he fell in love with her. She'd have twosome and threesomes with him and other women cult members. And all he had to do was run the mesc from the southwest every few freaking weeks."

Keegs let out a scream, which caused Jack to call out.

"Lad, you need to hold it together. I'll take care of you," he said," but you've got to hold your own and now."

Keegs apologized and waved his hands to signal he was okay.

After another shot, he told me that L.R.E.C. found out and threatened Tommy's life if he didn't give up the run. L.R.E.C. wanted the action for themselves. So, out of fear and to get them off his back, he told them when he was making the next delivery, and they set up the hit.

"Let me guess... Gremlin," I said.

"Gremlin, 4-stroke, Little Loco, and T-Bone. Little Jefe gave the order."

I sat there, silently not knowing what to say. Keegs was the best street cop I knew. He knew everything and everyone and had better street informants than most narc and gang division detectives.

"Did you tell IAB?" I asked quietly. I moved closer to conceal his answer.

He looked straight at the flag, drank from his pint, and didn't move. 

"Nope, and I'm not going to. Can't. Promised... This crap is real, brother. Something bad is coming. It's really going down... You wait and see."

"Where's Tommy now?" I asked. Keegan momentarily looked at me out of the corner of his eye. He held the pint to his mouth. He finished it with a huge gulp and then nodded to Cohan for another.

"You're the prophet, aren't you?" He swallowed. "They found out that he was the one who sold out Casper, or whatever the hell that asshole’s name is." 

He gritted and bared his teeth. His eyes glazed over from the alcohol flashed from the anger. Even though his voice shook, I could feel the rage in him.

 "They said they cursed his firstborn son." He clenched his fists. Jack was watching and stared at me to keep Keegs from doing something we'd all regret.

I put my hand on his shoulder and told him to calm down. I shushed him and told him to be easy. Jack leaned on the bar counter. 

"Careful, boyo," said Jack. "It might be safe here, but you never know who's listening. I've caught a wee rat here before."

In a soft voice, Keegs told us that Tommy's six-year-old son came down with a sudden fever and convulsions the next day. The doctors didn’t know what was wrong with him. Tommy's ex took him to Sinai Children's Hospital, and they said it was some virus contracted in Africa. It’s called River Blindness. A fly injects a worm into a child, and it makes them violent. But, of course, this kid has never been out of Nebraska, much less the country.

They were ready to transfer him to a specialist hospital when Tommy finally broke down and told his ex what had happened. 

His ex-wife was a member of a non-denominational church and asked for their warfare group to get involved. The group came in, led by a visiting evangelist. Together, they prayed for his son. Tommy told me it took six hours. The next day, his son was fine.

"Tommy remembers one night," Keegan said as his eyes could no longer contain the tears. "This redhead put blood on his chest before having sex." He took another shot of whiskey. "She told him that if he had ever betrayed them, he would die."

Jack joined the conversation with compassion and pity in his voice. "Okay. Tell your mate we'll take care of it. I'm not afraid of the Banshee, no matter the form she takes.” 

"And I sure as hell ain't afraid of California tree huggers," I said. “I fought the Taliban, Fedayeen, and freaking Al-Qaeda, remember?" I rubbed Keegan’s neck and picked up a shot glass.

It was empty, so I smelled it. "Wild Turkey?" I asked. Jack nodded no. 

"Hennessy," he said, and turned to a line of whiskey bottles behind him. He took the Hennessy from the shelf and poured me a shot.

"I won't tell, laddy. Not even your father."

I thought for a moment. What the hell. I took it down in one gulp and squeezed my eyes shut from the burn.

"These assholes," I said to Keegs. "Sound like a bunch of Twilight freaks that need their asses kicked."

Keegan laughed, shook his head, and dropped a shot into his pint, and put his hand on my shoulder.

"Tommy Parker hung himself two days ago. His ex told him she didn't want him to see his kid anymore. He was always a screw-up. Now he's dead… California tree huggers." He laughed out loud. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and hung his head. 

"I went over there the day of the bust," he whispered as Jack and I made eye contact.

"What did you do?" I asked.

"What the hell do you think I did?" He grabbed me by the collar with a fistful of my shirt. He hit the PTT and began broadcasting. Jack reached over the bar and took him by the neck, and smacked his hand from my shirt.

"Central, Six-three David, what's your status?" I ignored the radio. 

"It's okay, Keegs, it's okay," I hushed him as Jack gripped him. Then, the old-timers at the end of the bar got up and rushed over. They took hold of Keegs and kept him in his seat, both telling him to calm down.

"Central to Six-three David, status please?" Maxine rushed back into Cohan's after I ignored the radio call a second time. 

"Central from Six-three David," she said. "We're 10-4 here."

After settling Central, she screamed at me for my stupidity. I didn't want her to hear what Keegs was saying. She'd be liable if anything happened, and I didn't want her involved. 

I tried to stop Keegan from saying anything else, but it was too late.

"I went in... I put my forty right under Casper's chin... and I told him I was going to kill him and burn his whole freaking clan to the ground."

"You were the one that pistol-whipped him?" asked Maxine.

"You really want to know Stripes... well, do ya? I whipped his ass alright. I drove my sight right down his cheekbone. Knocked his scrawny little cupcake ass to the ground. And that b***h, his old lady or whatever the hell you call her, I butted her across the nose. Kicked them both in the teeth for good measure."

"Jesus Christ, Keegs," I said, frustrated. "That's what IAB wanted. Casper and his old lady gave up the buy in the cemetery, didn't they?"

He nodded and straightened up as he sobbed. He tried to hide it but was too drunk. My heart broke for him. 

Johnny Keegan never scared easily. He was fearless. So, to see him drunk, crying, and afraid, I realized he wasn't indestructible after all.

"There's something else." Fear overcame his face. His voice quivered as he sucked back the tears. "As he was bleeding on the floor, Crowningshield cursed me. He told me I was next, and all blasphemers would pay.”  

I had never seen him so unraveled in all the time that I had known him. We had been through everything you could imagine. Shootings, riots, stabbings, gang wars, you name it, and I had never seen or heard him like this ever before. 

Keegs as he pushed the glass away. "I'm next... They told me I was next. I knew too much, Tommy, his kid... the hit. I was going to pay, and they're coming after me."

"Kelly," said Jack as he let go of Keegs. "We'll take care of him. You and your woman need to go. The vultures will be here soon."

Max took hold of my arm and began dragging me to the door.

"Now. Let's go before everyone gets in trouble."