Two hours later, Drury exited 880 northbound at Grand Avenue in Oakland, dropped off the freeway at an estimated fifty-five to sixty miles per hour and swerved around the cars lined up at the base of the offramp. His tires screamed as he ran the red light. He drove the retail section of Grand Avenue on the wrong side of the road, accelerating and crossing back over the line as the road started to climb.
The Criminal Investigation Unit team following did not attempt to stay with him. They fell back. They notified Oakland Police as Drury’s car climbed east toward the hills and the intersection of Highway 13. Close to the onramp for 13 an Oakland police cruiser swung in behind Drury and went to lights and siren, but by then Drury was down the ramp and accelerating again. The officer followed and asked for help from the California Highway Patrol as he closed in on Drury’s vehicle.
Now Drury braked hard and pulled over. He forced the officer following to stand on his brakes and the close call sliding to a stop behind Drury angered Officer Hernandez. He used his bullhorn to order Drury to turn his vehicle off, put his hands on his steering wheel and not move. The officer unsnapped his holster as he got out. He kept close watch of Drury’s hands as he walked up alongside the car and then ordered him out of the vehicle.
Drury said, ‘I’m sorry, officer. I know I was speeding but my girlfriend just told me she’s been cheating on me for a year.’
Hernandez glanced at the approaching traffic. He expected the highway patrol any moment and was aware of what the suspect did along Grand Avenue, but didn’t want Drury to know that yet. He was unaware that San Francisco Police had a surveillance team watching this individual. For some reason that wasn’t communicated to him, and what he saw was a white male, clearly agitated and struggling with his emotions. He could easily be high on something as well as angry and Hernandez wanted backup before handcuffing him. When Drury started to turn, started to explain more, Hernandez barked at him.
‘Keep your back to me.’
‘I’m going to do exactly what you say, officer, but I’m OK now. I made some driving mistakes but we were supposed to get married in June. I’m sorry for what I did driving back there, but I’m not a danger now.’
Behind the officer traffic was slowing to rubberneck and though Hernandez knew better than to listen to what the man said, it resonated with him. His own wife dumped him just before the holidays, telling him she was filing for divorce and was in love with another man. He pushed that aside, glanced again down the highway looking for the CHP and not seeing any lights.
He positioned himself carefully. There wasn’t a lot of room and ten feet behind him the traffic was still doing forty-five or fifty. Drury put his hands on the roof of the car. Drury spread his legs and Hernandez took one more glance down the highway before pulling Drury’s left arm down and clicked cuffs on his wrist.
But then as he reached for the other arm Drury launched himself backwards. He drove Hernandez hard enough, fast enough to make him stumble. He slammed into him a second time and Hernandez was across the painted white stripe marking the edge of the right lane. That was where he fell backwards.
Drury heard tires squealing. He heard the cop’s yell just before he was hit but he didn’t turn to look. He jumped in his car as traffic came to a stop and veered on to the highway. When Drury overtook the traffic ahead he started weaving through. If the car ahead didn’t get out of the way, he leaned on his horn. When some aggressive fucker tried to stop him from passing he moved toward him until their mirrors clicked together, which was enough to scare the guy off and open another gap as the highway fed into the larger 580.
He didn’t think about the officer he pushed. He didn’t really even have a place he was headed. He had picked up on surveillance this morning and knew he’d been used and knew he was fucked no matter where he went, and his mind kaleidoscoped through images of the homicide cop who followed him to the bar and was on to him. He pushed the Honda up as fast as it would go now but debated getting off the freeway before it split again.
Traffic way ahead was slowing anyway. What he couldn’t see yet were the black and white CHP cars weaving back and forth across all lanes, bringing the speed of the traffic down from an average of sixty-five miles per hour to thirty down to ten and now almost to a stop. But he saw two coming now from behind. He didn’t know the officer he pushed died on the scene but the officers approaching knew that. They were coming very fast and he took his last chance to get off the freeway, exiting too fast and brushing against the side of a passing car as he turned right at the base of the offramp.
Now he was on a tree-lined residential street. He nearly hit a girl walking a dog and went left at the next corner with a helicopter swinging in overhead. He couldn’t believe they had a helicopter already and knew he had to get out of the car. He rounded another corner and a police car appeared in the intersection ahead. But to his right a woman was just getting out in her driveway with a bag of groceries.
Drury braked hard with a hand already under the seat finding the gun. He was out very quickly, but she was smart. She dropped the bags and ran. She got inside her front door and tried to lock it before he slammed into it. The door split the skin of her forehead right down the middle and still she tried to get up. She called to her kid to run and a little girl cried as he tied up the mom with electrical cord.
He tied her up and then grabbed the girl and dragged her out the front door on to the lawn, leaving her there, as he retrieved the woman’s purse and got back inside. Then he went through the house locking the doors and looking for anyone else and found a babysitter or nanny hiding in an upstairs bedroom closet.
‘Downstairs now,’ he said as he took a phone from her. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. You’re going to take a message to the police car at the corner. There’s a San Francisco cop named Raveneau. I want him here in less than two hours or Mom here dies. Anyone tries to come in, she dies, anything other than the inspector named Raveneau knocking on the door alone and she dies. Do you understand me?’
She couldn’t speak.
‘Get a fucking grip and repeat what I said to you.’
She quavered and teared-up. He almost hit her when she couldn’t get the name right, though what she said sounded more like the fucker. ‘Rabidno.’
‘He’s in Homicide. You watch TV. You know what that is.’
She did and he shoved her out a back door. Then he went looking for tape to tie up the mom better. After he did, he closed all the curtains and found her cell phone. His was in the car and there were more of them out there now. He could hear the radios. He lit up her cell and checked the time as the house landline began to ring.