A Slow Walk to Hell Read Online Free PDF Page A

returned our credentials without bothering to look, then motioned to his friend and lumbered toward a gate at the back of the pool fence.
    You wouldn’t expect a homicide detective to take orders from a chauffeur, but then Enrique wasn’t a typical chauffeur.
    A former Navy SEAL, Enrique had been a homicide sergeant in the Arlington PD until last year, when he got canned because he almost killed a child killer during an arrest. In Enrique’s defense, the other guy swung first and Enrique simply reacted. Normally, that shouldn’t have been a problem, but Enrique used some kind of a ninja punch and drove the guy’s nose cartilage into his brain, turning him into an eggplant.
    Anywhere else, Enrique would have probably gotten a medal. But this is America, the most litigious country in the world.
    The killer’s family got a big-time lawyer and sued the city, claiming Enrique intentionally tried to kill the man. No one thought the family had a chance of winning the case, but the city decided they just might. After all, Enrique was a highly trained SEAL and should have been able to control his punch.
    So the city settled the case out of court. In addition to whatever money they paid to the family, they also agreed to fire Enrique.
    I’d once asked Enrique why he didn’t sue the city for his job back. No jury in the world would punish him for turning a child-killer into a drooling slab of meat.
    “It’s not worth the hassle, Marty,” Enrique said. “Besides, I got me too good a gig now. Simon pays me three times what I made as a detective and I get the added benny of assisting on his investigations. Hell, it’s like still being on the force, only without having to put up with the horseshit.”
    He was lying. Later, Simon told me the real reason that Enrique never sued for reinstatement.
    Enrique knew the trial would turn into a circus and had no desire to become a poster child for other people’s agendas. He also didn’t want to play the discrimination card. According to Simon, Enrique believed that his firing was justified; he’d made a mistake and lost control.
    By discrimination, Enrique wasn’t referring to bias against his Hispanic heritage. Rather he was talking about his sexuality.
    Besides being a former SEAL and arguably the toughest cop in the Arlington PD, Enrique also happened to be gay.
    I suspected that fact explained his presence here tonight.

    Enrique waited for Amanda and me by the rear gate in the pool fence. He greeted us with a smile and we shook hands. As he turned away from Amanda, his eyes dropped to her ring. I expected him to offer his congratulations on her engagement, but he never did.
    Curious.
    When I mentioned we’d seen Harry leaving, Enrique confirmed that he’d had the day off.
    “Simon called and said to meet him here ASAP. My place is over by Balston Mall, so I got here pretty quick. About the same time as Simon.”
    “Where was he tonight?” I remembered Charlie Hinkle’s comment that the Arlington PD chief of police had been trying to locate Simon.
    “At a Kennedy Center concert. The chief had an usher hunt him down.” He nodded toward the cars parked along the fence. “Some response, huh, Marty? We’ve got twice the usual crime scene units. Forensics, CID, investigative support. Must be thirty people inside. Even the ME got here in under an hour. But, hey, it’s not everyday the nephew of the next president gets knocked off.” He turned and started across the decking toward the house.
    As Amanda and I sidled up to him, she asked, “Who’s the ME?”
    “Who else? Cantrell.”
    Dr. Agatha Cantrell was the natural choice. A thirty-year veteran, she was easily the most experienced ME in the coroner’s office.
    We skirted the edge of the pool. Amanda slipped me a glance which I interpreted and answered with a nod. Enrique wouldn’t take offense. You can’t be a gay cop and have thin skin.
    Amanda still sounded like she had a mouthful of marbles when she said, “Ah,