“So what exactly happened here?” Ballard said.
“Neighbor called it in, said there was a fight in twenty-two,” Rodriguez said. “We got here, and suspects were gone on arrival. Chara was talking to the guy and then suddenly he pushes her into me and takes off. You know the rest.”
“Was he illegal?” Ballard asked.
“Never got to it,” Paithoon said. “He wasn’t Thai, though. The neighbor who called it in was Thai but this guy was Cambodian. I think this was ABZ business and he was afraid we were going to arrest him, so he hightailed it.”
Ballard knew that ABZ meant Asian Boyz, a gang that preyed upon immigrants, legal and otherwise, from Southeast Asia.
Two paramedics entered the apartment building’s central courtyard, and Paithoon greeted them.
“Our victim is GOA but you need to take a look at Detective Ballard here,” she said. “She took a tumble and hit her head.”
The paramedics agreed to check Ballard but wanted to do it at their truck. Paithoon and Rodriguez stayed behind to do mop-up on what was turning out to be an assault call without a victim.
Ballard sat under a light on the fold-down tail of the EMT wagon while a med tech checked her vitals as well as her eyes for dilation and her scalp for bruising and swelling. The name patch on his uniform said single.
“Is that your name or relationship status?” Ballard asked.
“It’s my name but I get asked that a lot,” Single said.
“Of course you do.”
“So, I think you have a slight concussion. We’ve got a little bit of dilation of the pupils, some elevated blood pressure.”
He used his gloved fingers to press the skin around Ballard’s eyes. She could see the concentration in his expression as he worked. He wore a mask but he had sharp brown eyes and full brown hair and was maybe a few years younger than her. One of his pupils had a notch in it slightly off center at five o’clock.
“Coloboma,” Single said.
“What?” Ballard asked.
“You’re looking at my eye. The notch in my pupil is caused by a birth defect in the iris called coloboma. Some call it a keyhole pupil.”
“Oh. Does it …”
“Affect my eyesight? No. But I have to wear sunglasses when the sun is out. So, most of the time.”
“Well, that’s good. About your eyesight.”
“Thanks. And so you’re on the other side of the wall, right?”
“What?”
“Hollywood Division?”
“Oh, yeah, Hollywood. You’re at the firehouse, then?”
“Yep. Maybe I’ll see you in the parking lot someday.”
“Sure.”
“But what I think you need to do now is punch out and go home and rest.”
“I can’t do that. I’m the only detective on duty tonight.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not going to be much of a detective if your brain swells and you go into seizure.”
“Seriously?”
“You took a good knock on the head. Coup and contrecoup injuries — bruising of the brain, swelling — can develop over time. I’m not saying you have that, because there is only mild dilation exhibited, but you definitely want to take it easy. You can sleep but you want somebody to wake you and check on you every couple hours or so. Just keep a watch on this. You have somebody at home who can check on you through the night?”
“I live alone.”
“Then give me a number, and I’ll call you every few hours.”
“You’re serious?”
“Totally. You don’t want to mess around with an injury like this. Call your supervisor and tell him you’re going home. If he wants to talk to me, I’ll tell him what I just told you.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll do it.”
“Give me a number to call.”
Ballard gave him a business card that had her name and cell phone number on it. She remained skeptical that he would call to check on her. But she hoped he would. She liked his look and his manner. She liked the keyhole in his eye.
“So, am I okay to drive?” she asked. “I have a city ride I should turn in and then get my car.”
“I can drive your ride back, since we’re going back to the station. Where do you live?”
“Los Feliz.”
“Well, maybe you can get an Uber or one of the patrol guys can drive you home.”
“Sure. I can work on that.”
“Good. And I’ll call to check on you in a couple hours.”