right, then. Meeting at ten-thirty, my office.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Franklin will be in from the FBI. You have a problem with that?”
“No, sir.” He did, but he wasn’t about to tell that to Blake. And he was damned determined that he wasn’t going to tell Franklin, either.
“Belk, Rosario, MacDonald and Rizzo will round out the group. You can always call in whatever uniformed personnel you need.”
“Sounds like we’ve got a good team and good backup.”
“Ten-thirty,” Captain Blake repeated.
“Yes, sir, we’ll be there.”
He hung up, staring thoughtfully at the receiver.
“Well?” Marty said.
Jake shrugged. Marty was a big fan of Sir Conan Doyle.
“As your Victorian super sleuth liked to say, Marty, the game is afoot.” He added, “Ten-thirty, Captain Blake’s office. He’s called in the other shifts for a meeting. We’re reinvigorating the old task force, using the same crew. We’ve got Belk and Rosario, MacDonald and Rizzo. Oh, and Franklin from the FBI.”
“Franklin?” Marty said with dismay.
“You got a problem with that?” Jake said.
“Problem? Me? Hell, no,” Marty said, starting around from Jake’s desk to take a seat at his own.
“Yep, hell no, no problem,” Jake said.
“Fuck,” Marty moaned.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Fuck,” Marty repeated. He shook his head. “Franklin,” he said. He looked bleakly at Jake. “We got a problem.”
“We’ll get past it.”
“Yeah, sure,” Marty said. He punched information into his computer, ready to search the available records. He was still shaking his head.
“Fuck. Franklin,” he repeated.
“I hear you, Marty,” Jake assured him.
“We’ll get past it,” Marty aped.
“We’ll get past it, because nothing, nothing, is going to take us off this case. Nothing—and no one.”
“Right. Nothing and no one,” Marty agreed.
Later, after they’d both spent the early morning reviewing reports and researching the records, Jake rose to tell Marty it was time for the task force meeting.
He was still shaking his head. And when he rose, reached for his jacket, and joined Jake for the walk to the captain’s office, he said again, “Fuck. Franklin.”
Jake stared at him.
“Last time. That was it,” Marty swore.
“You sure? ’Cause if not, get it out—now.”
“Fucking Franklin?” he said vehemently. Then he grinned. “All right. I got it out.” He shrugged. “The guy is efficient. He’s just such a…prick. He even walks like he’s got a broom up his ass. But he is good with a computer.”
“Right. Ten-twenty-eight. Let’s get in there.”
“Fucking Franklin.”
CHAPTER 6
“Basics,” Sergeant Brennan announced firmly to his class. “Basics. Why do we harp so much on the basics?” It was a rhetorical question. “Because you forget those basics, and every bit of hard work done by a score of cops and technical support personnel is down the damned drain. We’re law enforcement officers. We’re not the law. And nothing works without the law. You people have all passed your tests to get into this class. You’ve made it through your background checks, and you’re months along now. Hell, we’ve given you real bullets. In another few months, you’ll graduate, and you’ll be looking to make your careers as police officers. You’ve all come into this with different dreams, different goals. None of it will amount to crap if you ever forget the basics. First, what the hell are we here for? Jacoby, that question is for you.”
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