“If there’s a problem, I’ll get an exemption,” Chris said.
There was a longer pause. “You’ve got something in mind?”
“I figure he’ll be an asset in the field,” Chris said.
The Chief picked up a stylus and started balancing it between his two index fingers and studying it. “We’ve worked together what, 40 years?’ he asked finally.
Something wasn’t adding up here, Chris thought, a little puzzled. While he knew there hadn’t been any canine units in LLE before, the Chief was seldom interested in rules or conformity. Chris hadn’t expected any discussion because Louie shouldn’t be this big of an issue. This first question was rhetorical and an obvious preamble to something more, so he didn’t bother to respond.
“You were already here when I came on board. I’ve respected that. It hasn’t always been smooth sailing but I think you could safely say that for the most part I’ve let you tack on your own.” The analogy was a bad sign. The Chief was an avid sailor, and it meant he was groping for a way to break some bad news.
“I promised Andrews I’d see to him, and he can’t sit around my apartment all day. He’ll go barking mad,” Chris said, still puzzled. “He’s pretty much of a natural. I think he already picked up on some chem- or neuro- issue with that pro sitting out there waiting for processing.”
“I’m not talking about the dog,” the Chief said, shifting forward in his chair. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything more, the young woman Chris had just piqued chose that moment to walk through the door.
“Sorry Chief, but I have excellent hearing. And no, it’s not enhanced. That would be illegal. You can have it tested if you wish.” This last was directed at Chris.
“Also, I was sitting right outside your door.” Back to the Chief. “You can’t blame me for the city’s notion of soundproofing. I thought I should come in and introduce myself before Detective McGregor digs himself into a deeper hole.
“And to let you know that Louie is perfect for the team, as far as I’m concerned.” To Chris.
And back to the Chief, “Since you seemed to be worried about it.”
Chris stared at her extended hand, then shook it briefly. He shifted his gaze back up to the remarkable turquoise eyes, which showed the faintest of humor lines at the corners.
“I’m overwhelmed with relief,” the Chief said dryly to the newcomer, then shifted his attention back to Chris. “McGregor, meet Olivia Hutchins, your new partner.”
Chris had been mildly puzzled before. Now he turned his head sharply to give the Chief a full stare.
“I prefer Livvy.”
“Detective Hutchins transferred here from San Francisco specifically to work LLE with you as her partner. Something about ‘learning from the best.’ Clearly a mistake, but I’ve decided to let her find that out on her own,” the Chief said, looking at Livvy with no evident amusement.
“I’m not a training officer,” Chris said. “I’ve never been a training officer. Even when I was taking partners, you never gave me a rookie before.”
“There you go, still wielding that shovel,” Livvy said sotto voce.
“Detective Hutchins has 30 years experience, the last 10 in Homicide, and 20 before that in Tactical.”
“I haven’t had any partner in 30 years.”
“You’re letting Louie tag along with far less experience and, I can say with all modesty, far less to offer,” Livvy interjected.
Chris found himself gazing at the flawless face. Again.
“Think of it as a type of armor,” Livvy said. “I’m…”
The Chief interrupted. “Its all moot, McGregor. This came straight from the Commissioner. None of us has a choice. Since Detective Hutchins has no objections, which we are delighted to hear, you can keep the dog, but you’re taking her as well. It’s over my head and way above your paygrade.”
“I’ve… “ Chris started to say after regaining some equanimity, then was interrupted as well.
“I’ve got a Priority One call.” He touched his ear and said “Tactical,” in the direction of his collar transmitter, then his eyes unfocused.
“I’ve got to go out on this one,” he said after a few moments. He squinted at Livvy and looked back to the Chief.
“Go,” the Chief said, gesturing him out with the back of his hand.
Chris turned and headed towards the door as his new partner hustled to her feet. She seemed at a loss as to how to dismiss herself semi-properly.
At this point, the Chief said irritably, “What? Still here hotshot?”
“I’m not…” Chris heard her begin.
“Go. He won’t wait for you.”
Chris flexed his fingers. The hand that had gripped his was fine and smooth, but it demonstrated an unquestionably strong grip and the nails were clipped short and devoid of decoration. A hand that could be comfortable around the grip of a Stinger. A new partner, and an LLE rookie at that. At a minimum, an inconvenience, possibly a hazard, but contrary to a vast amount of experience, maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as he was totally convinced it would be.
Chp. 3 For love is immortality. Emily Dickinson (Monday)
Livvy caught up with her new partner as he waited for the swift-el down to the LLE underground motor pool. The dog, Louie, looked up at her and thumped his tail but remained sitting calmly at Chris’ left side.
“What…?” she started to ask. Chris held up a temporizing hand and she realized he was still getting audio input of some information he must have called up while she was catching up with him. She made a mental note to get a synchronous feed option coded into her aural comu as soon as she got back to the LLE office and, for now, waited impatiently for Chris to finish getting direct read.
“Sorry,” he said, surprising her. “I needed an archival record.”
There was a car waiting when they got to the motor pool. Livvy figured he’d ordered it out before he even put in the request to Archives. Somehow, even though she had been walking right next to him and she slid into the passenger seat at the same time he slipped behind the wheel, she still felt as though she was struggling to catch up.
“938 Ark Rd., Marlboro. Sirens on, strobe on,” Chris said and the car complied. Within one and a half minutes they were on the beltway, with the regular glassene traffic shifting out of the path of their official car with satisfying automaticity.
“And? Wait, first, what were you going to say back there? In the Chief’s office. Before you got the Priority Call.”
Chris gazed at her blankly for a moment, then said, “That I’ve no objection to trying it for a week, then we can both decide if we want to continue.”
“Oh. All right. Fair enough. I thought you were… well, I know this was sprung on you, and I thought you might kick up more dust.”
Chris glanced at her again and smiled slightly. “I think you will find, Hutchins, that the reason I no longer have partners is more for their benefit than for mine. Feel free to change your mind before the week is up, if you want.”
“I’m neither cowed nor fickle,” Livvy said. “Now, where are we going so fast, and why?”
“According to the IA there’s a woman in Marlboro who shot her husband and is now holding her husband’s lover hostage. The wife has asked for me and I wanted to see if we had any history that might suggest why.”
He seemed lost in thought, and whatever he was remembering was making him look even flintier than usual.
“What?” she finally asked.
He shifted his gaze back to her. “What do you know about the Pheromone Fiasco?”
“You mean from the 50’s? Before my time. If I remember my history, there were a few chem-enhancements licensed, and many more done on the black market, that claimed to be either natural or engineered pheromones that were linked to sweat glands. The real problems surfaced when there were some court cases, some murders even, where lost impulse control was blamed on some nebulous “compulsion.” I think some of the defense attorneys succeeded, and there was a public outcry. The whole matter was big deal at the time.