“Okay.” Jane typed a command and a printer spat out a sheet of paper. “I’ll need your social security number and next of kin.”
Holly recited the number and gave her Ham’s name and address.
“That’s right, they were in the army together, weren’t they?” Jane said.
“Yes, more than ten years ago. They kept in touch.”
“There’s another of their old army buddies living here, too—Hank Doherty. You’ll have to meet him.”
“My father mentioned him—he’s the one with the dogs, isn’t he?”
“Well…yes, I guess, but he’s not as active in the dog-training business as he once was. Hank’s…well, we can go into that later.”
“All right.”
“Okay, now documents.” She began handing Holly documents to sign—health insurance, group life insurance, federal and state tax forms. “Good,” Jane said, when Holly had signed everything. “You’re on the payroll. Now let’s get your ID done. Oh, we’d better get you in uniform for your photograph.” She got up and closed the venetian blinds on the glass front of her office, then set a large cardboard box on her desk. “These are the uniforms we ordered for you, according to the sizes you gave us.” She produced a khaki shirt. “Can you slip into this? I’ll leave you alone, if you like.”
“No, that’s all right,” Holly said. She slipped out of her slacks and shirt and into a uniform. Jane produced a badge from her desk drawer and pinned it on.
“Now, let’s get your picture taken.” She pulled down a home movie screen on one wall and produced a Polaroid camera from her bottomless desk drawers. “Just stand right there and look nice,” she said, then snapped the picture. A moment later she had stuck the photograph to the computer printout and was laminating it in a desktop machine. “There,” she said, looking satisfied with her work. She took a leather wallet from her desk, inserted the ID card and handed it to Holly. A gold shield was affixed to the wallet.
“Thank you, Jane.”
“Now you’re officially Deputy Chief Holly Barker, and nobody can do a damn thing about it. Your contract is for five years, after all.”
“Might somebody want to do something about it?” Holly asked.
“You never know. Oh, one more thing,” Jane said. She unlocked a heavy steel cabinet and took out a pistol with a holster and belt, a box of ammunition and an envelope. “Here’s your weapon, a nine-millimeter Beretta automatic, and fifty rounds of ammunition. Sign right here.” Holly signed. “You can have another weapon of your own, if you want to, but you’ll need to register the serial number with me and fire a round for our ballistics records.”
“Okay.”
Jane opened the envelope and shook out a pair of handcuffs and two keys, then clipped them onto the pistol belt. “The chief likes everybody to have a spare handcuff key in their pocket, in case, God forbid, anybody should ever cuff you with your own handcuffs.”
“Good idea.”
Jane took a thick, ring-bound document from a shelf and handed it to Holly. “This is our bible,” she said. “The chief has been working on it for a long time. It outlines our standard operating procedures for all personnel.”
“The chief sent me a copy,” Holly said. “I’ve read it, and I’m very impressed.”
“He said he thought you might make some suggestions for revisions,” Jane said.
“Not right away—maybe later.”
Jane handed her a sheet of paper. “Here’s a personnel roster with everybody’s rank and assigned duties.”
“I’ve seen this, too,” Holly said. “I’m not sure I’ve memorized it yet, though.”
“I believe you’re all set,” Jane said. “We’ve got an office ready for you next door. Let me show you.” She led Holly into an office nearly as big as the chief’s. It seemed well equipped and comfortable. “Here’s the combination to your safe and your keys to your office and the building,” she said, handing Holly a slip of paper and some keys. “I expect you should use the chief’s car until…he’s back at work. It’s the blue, unmarked car in space one in the lot. Here are the keys.”
“Thanks.”
“There’s a watch change at ten o’clock; we can officially introduce you then.”
“Sounds good. I take it nobody but you and the chief knew I was coming?”
“That’s the way the chief wanted it,” she said.
“Jane, a minute ago, you said something about nobody being able to do anything about my being here. If people had known I was coming, might somebody have tried to do something about it?”
“Well,” Jane said, “you never know, do you?”
“I guess not. I think I’d better see Lieutenant Wallace before the others. Will you ask him to come in here?” Holly settled herself behind her new desk and waited.
CHAPTER
4
Two minutes passed before Hurd Wallace made his entrance. Holly stood up and stuck out her hand. “Let’s start over,” she said. “I’m Holly Barker, and I’m coming to work here today.”
Wallace shook her hand. “Glad to meet you,” he said. “Welcome aboard.”
“Have a seat, and let’s talk for a minute before the watch change.”
Hurd did as he was asked.
Holly thought him the calmest person she had ever met. He seemed to have no reaction whatever to the news that he had been passed over for promotion, and that a strange woman was now his superior. “I know this comes as something of a surprise to you, and in a way, it is to me, too. I didn’t know that there had been no announcement about my arrival.”
“That was a surprise, yes,” Wallace said.
“The chief hired me more than a month ago. I’ve been arranging my retirement from the army; I arrived in town last night.”
“Anything I can do to help you settle in?”
“Thanks, but I think I’m okay. I’m at Riverview Park, in a trailer. I was already living in it off base.”
“I see.”
“Hurd—may I call you Hurd?”
“Of course.”
“And I’m Holly to you, when we’re alone, but not to the rest of the force. Hurd, I’m aware that you might have expected to get this job, and I’m sorry that things have been complicated even more by the shooting of the chief last night. I hope we’re going to be able to work together smoothly.”
“I’m sure we will,” Wallace said.
“Before I meet the others, I’d like to be brought up to date on the shooting last night. Who’s handling the investigation?”
“Bob Hurst, detective sergeant. He’s our best man on homicides—that’s how we’re treating this.”
“I’d like to talk to him as soon as possible.”
“He was up all night working the crime scene and going over the chief’s car. I told him to get some sleep.”
“Don’t wake him, but I want to talk to him at the earliest opportunity. In the meantime, tell me what you know.”
“In a nutshell, a passerby found the chief lying in front of his car on the shoulder of A1A, just after eleven last night. He’d been shot once in the head, but he was still alive. Bob Hurst got there right after the ambulance arrived; I got there right after the ambulance left. The ground was dry, so there were no footprints; nothing was amiss inside the chief’s car.”
“Were the flashers on the chief’s car running?”
“No, but the headlights were on.”
“Car doors open or closed?”
“Closed and unlocked. The driver’s window was down. The chief usually kept it down—he didn’t like air conditioning much.”
Holly looked at her Rolex, a gift from her platoon leaders on her retirement. “Okay, we’d better get out to the squad room so I can meet the others. I’d appreciate it if you’d introduce me. I’ll do the rest.”