Chapter 11
Beau Lee stopped chewing. He felt the adrenaline start to rush through his body. “That means we’ve got a witness out there.”
“Maybe more than one,” Nellie said.
They continued to watch the footage as the officers surrounded Hollis, and then the gunshots could be heard—a series of anxiety-producing pops echoed throughout the restaurant.
Patrons gasped and shouted at the TV. The reporter cut in: “As a reminder, please be mindful if you have younger children in the room at this time…” The video continued with the officers’ removing Hollis’s firearm and gathering near the front of a cruiser.
“My God,” Finn said, speaking through a clenched jaw.
“The gun wasn’t in his hand,” Beau Lee said, feeling his rage returning. “Their hands went straight to Hollis’s waist.”
“How can you tell?” Nellie asked. “Visibility is garbage.”
“I just know.”
The cops had made a wall around Hollis, obscuring the camera’s view, but Beau Lee had a good eye.
He was trained in seeing things people tried to hide.
It was only a second of footage, maybe two, but he saw the holstered firearm just as an officer’s back and rear filled the camera’s frame.
The footage wouldn’t be able to win them the case, but it showed Beau Lee the truth.
The reporter appeared onscreen, rattled—a Black woman wearing a pink blouse with a slight sheen that reflected the bright studio lights.
For a moment, her eyes were cast downward in her lap, and she looked like she was unable to continue.
Then, gazing directly into the camera, her lip trembling slightly, she said, “We received this footage within the last fourteen hours. It has also been uploaded to the video file-sharing service YouTube. We are in the process of verifying who may have uploaded it and sent our station the file’s link.
We believe the video footage may show the attempted arrest of Hollis Montrose, who we’ve verified is a policeman with the Metra Police Department.
Mr. Montrose is being hospitalized and is currently in critical condition.
We have reached out to the Chicago Police Department for further comment and have not received a response.
We will continue seeking answers”—she cleared her throat and sighed—“We now cut to Jet Cardiff, who is outside Mount Sinai Medical Center, where Mr. Montrose is said to be receiving care.”
Finn sat down, pushed his food aside, and leaned across the table. “You know what this means, don’t you, fellas?”
“We need to talk to whoever made that video,” Beau Lee said. “ASAP.”
“And did you notice the vantage point? They might’ve recorded from the second story of a house or building.”
“So, the witness is a resident of the neighborhood,” Nellie said. “Probably lives in one of the homes across the street.”
“This thing is all over the news now,” Finn said. “Those cops will be thinking the same as us. They’ll want to get their hands on whoever recorded that footage, and they’ll start with the neighbors.”
Beau Lee looked at the report again. “The arresting officers say that the license plate couldn’t be read in what seemed like normal conditions. Did the plate look illegible to you?”
“Hard to say,” Finn said. “Not that easy to make out ’cause the video’s so grainy.”
“There’s only two names on this report, but the video showed four shooters.”
“Oh, right. I looked into that,” Finn said. “The other two responding officers were on their way to 21 District Station.”
“For what?”
“From what I could gather, there’d been a retirement party for their old captain. One of those all-nighters,” Finn said. “The call came in, and they decided to provide backup.”
“Is it unusual for cops to respond to a call outside of their district?”
“Not really,” Finn said. “But those two fellas who made the stop, Jack Dunham and Chaz Rossi, got themselves a nasty reputation.”
“How nasty?” Capes asked. “ ’Cause what I just saw in that video made me lose my appetite.”
“Lots of citizen complaints from what I hear.”
“Any lawsuits?” Beau Lee asked.
“Nothing I found, but you’ll see what I mean when you subpoena their records.”
“Thanks for this,” Beau Lee said, putting the police report back into the folder.
“I’d do anything for Hollis,” Finn said. “He’s like a brother to me. Wasn’t always that way, but I wouldn’t change it for nothing.”
“We better get going,” Beau Lee said, reaching into his pocket. He took out his wallet and began counting bills.
“I’ve got it,” Finn said. “Your money’s no good here.”
“It’s fine, really—”
“No. I’ll take care of it, and if you guys need anything, give me a call.”
“All right,” Beau Lee said. “Thank you.”
“Sure thing.” Finn waved to the waitress and said politely, “The bill when you get a chance, please.” It was a departure from his overall gruff tone, and Beau Lee wondered if Finn had daughters at home. He’d seen plenty of hard-edged men turn to putty around their daughters. Himself included.
“Give me one sec,” the waitress said, balancing two large plates of food.
“Take your time.” Finn turned abruptly to Beau Lee like a thought had dawned on him, and said, “Where you all off to now, Counselor?”
Beau Lee picked up his hat from the booth and put it on. “We need to talk to Hollis’s attorney.”
“I thought you were his attorney?”
“It’s complicated,” Nellie said. “But we’re getting it sorted out.”
“And after that, we’re going to see if I can find whoever shot that video before Dunham and Rossi do.”
“You guys are a bit like strangers in a strange land,” Finn said. “How about I meet you at the scene in an hour or so?”
“You sure you want to get involved?” Capes asked. “You are police, after all. How’s that going to look?”
“None of that matters now. Hollis is my friend, and that comes before all else.”
“It could be useful having someone with us who knows the city,” Beau Lee said. “We’d appreciate any help you can give, Officer Doyle.”
“C’mon, boss, is all that necessary?” Capes asked. “I’m good in any hood. We can make our way without five-o. Him being there could make whoever we talk to clam up.”
“I’m making the executive decision here,” Beau Lee said. “Officer Doyle will meet us in two hours at the scene. That should give us enough time to meet with Alvarez beforehand.”
Finn grinned like he’d scratched the winning number on a two-dollar lotto ticket. “I’ll be there,” he said. “I want you all to know I’m in this for Hollis. I’m going to get justice for my brother, no matter what it takes.”
Capes rolled his eyes. “Easy there, cowboy. Our battlefield is the courtroom. Not the streets. We’re not interested in any billy club beatdowns. No dangling people off balconies for answers.”
“Maybe you’ve seen Serpico one too many times,” Finn said. “We aren’t all dirty. And you best believe I’m nothing like those animals who shot Hollis.”
Capes mumbled under his breath, “Time will tell…”