“It’s an honor, Commander.”
“And for me. You have an impressive reputation. Your commander speaks highly of you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Can we sit?” Oberman asked, deferring to Whitney.
“Please.” Whitney gestured to chairs.
Oberman took one. “You were barely out of the Academy when I retired from this office,” Oberman began, “but I’ve followed some of your investigations in the media, and heard the buzz at the trough where we old warhorses gather.”
He smiled when he said it, the bright blue eyes he’d passed to his daughter friendly on hers. But Eve felt herself being summed up.
She had no quibble with that, as she did the same with him.
“Of course, now with the success of Nadine Furst’s book, your work on the Icove case is well documented. It’s been good for the department, wouldn’t you agree, Jack, the interest in that case? How it was pursued, investigated, and closed?”
“I would.”
“From what I’m told and, observed, Lieutenant, you’ve butted heads with fellow officers during the course of investigations.”
“I’m sure that’s accurate, Commander.”
His smile widened. “If you’re not butting heads now and then, you’re not doing the job—in my opinion.”
He leaned back in the chair. Taking the formal out, Eve judged, as she had with Trueheart.
“It takes confidence, even bullheadedness, as well as training, talent, dedication to stick with the job, and to move up the ranks. I understand you and my daughter are butting heads at the moment.”
“I regret if Lieutenant Oberman sees it that way.”
He nodded, his gaze pinned on hers. Still cop’s eyes, Eve thought. Shrewd, probing, the sort that could peel away the layers and expose what was hiding beneath.
“Your commander will attest to the fact I don’t make a habit of interfering with departmental business. I no longer have the chair, and hold nothing but respect for the man who does.”
“Yes, sir, as do I.”
“But a father is a father, Lieutenant, and from that job no man retires. I expect you and Lieutenant Oberman would have some certain friction between you as you are different types, have different work styles. But you’re both still ranked officers of the NYPSD.”
“Absolutely understood, Commander.”
“I hadn’t intended to become involved in this situation, in any way.” He lifted his hands, spread them. “Even when I had the chair, I believed my officers should settle their own differences.”
Daddy refusing to grease the wheels? Eve thought. That had to chap Renee’s ass. “Yes, sir. I agree.”
“I reconsidered this only after learning early this morning that one of my daughter’s men had gone down. The officer who was at the center of the friction.”
“It’s very regrettable Detective Garnet lost his life, sir.”
“Every man lost can and does affect us all, but most particularly his commanding officers. You’ve lost men under your command, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir.” She could list their names. She knew their faces.
“It’s my hope, Lieutenant, that given these new and tragic circumstances, you will agree to expunge the mark you placed on the fallen officer’s record. Deservedly placed,” he added. “But I would reach out to you now on this, for Lieutenant Oberman and her man.”
“No, sir. I regret I’m unable to accommodate you on this matter.”
He sat back, obviously taken by surprise. “It’s so important to you, Lieutenant, that this rip stands? On a dead man?”
“Dead or alive, he earned it. I apologize to the father, sir, but hope the commander who held this chair, and who served this department honorably for more years than I’ve been alive, will accept my stand when I say Detective Garnet’s lieutenant, present throughout that incident, did not intervene. Did not control the situation.”
“Are you directing the rip at Garnet or his lieutenant?”
“I’m not in the position to discipline his lieutenant. Respectfully, sir, I will not expunge his suspension. And in fact have already begun procedures that will result, I believe, in his expulsion from the force. Posthumously.”
“That is a harsh stance. A harsh line.”
“Yes, sir, it is. You may not be aware, Commander, that last evening Detective Garnet came to my home, did in fact lie in wait at my home. He attempted to assault me. Did, in fact, make physical contact. Did, in fact, draw his weapon.”
“No.” Oberman’s face went to stone. “I was not aware. I was not apprised.”
“The incident is on record, sir, and was reported immediately after it occurred. I believe Lieutenant Oberman will have been made aware of it.”
She waited just a beat to let that little gem shine.
“Detective Garnet’s death is regrettable, Commander, but it is my opinion he didn’t deserve his rank, his badge. I will continue to do whatever I can to see he’s stripped of them. His death doesn’t make him any less of a bad cop.”
“No, it does not. I withdraw my request, Lieutenant Dallas. And I apologize for making it.”
“No apology necessary, sir.”
Eve rose as he did.
“I’ll let you, both of you, get back to your work. Thank you, Commander Whitney, for giving me the time. And you, Lieutenant.”
“It was an honor to meet you, sir.”
As Whitney led Oberman to the door, the former commander paused, turned back to Eve. “Do you believe Garnet’s death comes out of the murder of this Keener?”
“I’m not working Garnet’s case, sir, but am cooperating and will continue to cooperate fully with the officers assigned to that investigation.”
“I see.” He looked at her for a long moment, then walked out without another word.
“He’s embarrassed.” Whitney closed the door. “Angry and embarrassed to have put himself in this position. And there’s a place in him now, twisting inside as he wonders, worries, considers what position his daughter might be in.”
“Yes, sir,” Eve agreed. “It’s going to be worse for him, and soon.”
And as Whitney walked to the window to look out at his city, Eve understood he, too, was angry and embarrassed.
“All the years he gave this job, this city. All the years he sat in command. All the work he put into helping rebuild and reform this department after the Urbans? And his name will always carry this.”
“Her name.”
Whitney shook his head as he turned back. “You don’t have children, Dallas. It will always be his name. And it will always be his shame.”
She waited until Whitney returned to his desk, sat heavily behind it.
“Permission to speak freely, sir.”
“So given.”
“I can’t and won’t say that none of this will fall on you. You’re in command, so it will. But I can and will say you’re not responsible.”
“Being in command makes me responsible.”
“No, sir. Taking responsibility and being responsible aren’t always the same thing. You’ll take it because you’d never do otherwise. But Renee Oberman is responsible, and in a way that’s deeply unfair, so is her father. His name and his reputation, the awe he inspires, allowed her room, inclined some to turn a blind eye, influenced others to go along.”
“Including me?”
“I can’t answer that, Commander. But I know when I brought this to you, you didn’t turn a blind eye or give her room. You acted as a commander, because you’d never do otherwise. And you acted, knowing full well what would fall on you. You could’ve done it differently.”
Obviously intrigued, he sat back. “How so?”
“You could’ve found a way to get her off the job. You could’ve found a way to pressure her off, to keep it internal, to weed out her squad. And, sir, you could have covered it up. Kept it inside, called on the blue line. Dead man’s just a junkie. Sure, cops are dead, but you can’t bring them back.”
She paused a moment, watching his face. “You probably considered it, weighed it out, for about five minutes. You could’ve made it work—I can see how you could’ve made it work. But you’d never take that out. Because you’re in command. Because you’re a cop, sir, and you’ll never be anything else.”