Richard Hawke - Cold Day in Hell

“He’s an ape.”

“I don’t care if he’s an ape, Megan. You pulled your weapon on him. Do you mind telling me what it was you had in mind?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

Gallo made a show of rolling his eyes. “You weren’t thinking? Let me tell you something. That gun comes out of its holster, I want you to be Albert Einstein, you’re thinking so fucking hard. For Christ’s sake, do I have to tell you how stupid-”

“No, you don’t. I know it was stupid. I’m sorry.”

“Is that what you would’ve said if McKinney was lying in there right now with a hole out the back of his head? ‘Oh. Sorry, Joe. I was angry’?”

“I was angry. He-”

“Then kick a dog! Go into the ladies’ room and scream at the top of your lungs. Hold it in until you get home, then wreck your place, I don’t care. But I’m telling you right now what I’m not having. I’m not having one of my detectives pull her goddamn weapon on another one of my detectives in the goddamn precinct house. Or anywhere else. McKinney ’s an ape, fine. No argument here. They got apes at the Bronx Zoo. You want to go up and take a few shots at them, too?”

“I didn’t take-”

Gallo leveled a finger at her. “Are you good? That’s what I’m asking.”

“Am I-”

“Good. You tell it right here, Megan. I backed you up for reinstatement. You’re aware of that. I still think there’s plenty cop left in you. In fact, I know there is. You got bucked way the hell off the saddle, that’s no secret. It was a hell of a hit you took, but you told me you wanted to come back. And you’re back. We talked about McKinney already. We talked about all the other crap that was likely to come up now and then, so nothing’s a surprise here. I’m not going to put this delicately. To some people out there, you’re a freak. Apes like McKinney are never going to understand people-” He cut himself off.

“People what? People like me?”

“Yes.”

“Well, fuck you very much, Lieutenant. At least it’s nice to know where you stand.”

“You know where I stand, Megan. Don’t try to go isolating yourself.”

“Not to worry. That’s taking care of itself. You’re the one who said it, Joe. I’m a freak. To Brian McKinney, I’m the bull dyke who failed to protect my partner.” She gave a laugh. “Partner. For Christ’s sake, I failed to protect both my partners. Though I’m sure McKinney ’s not too glum about Helen-”

“Stop it!” Gallo slammed his hand down on the desk with such force, it gave Megan a start. “Look, I can’t hold your hand on this.”

“No one’s asking you to.”

“Do your job, Megan. To some people here, you’re a hero for loading up Albert Stenborg with lead. To some, you’re trigger-happy. Those are the facts. Either way, it’s on you like a big tattoo right on your forehead. Forget your personal life. I don’t give a damn about your personal life. Professionally , you’re a freak. You’re in a small, select club, and not a particularly happy one. You know the speech, it can make you a better cop or it can ruin you. You told me it was going to make you a better cop, and I happen to believe you. But a better cop does not pull the kind of stunt you just pulled in there. The bad guys are out there.” He gestured toward his window. “There’s one in particular we need to find and find quickly, and if Brian McKinney’s schoolboy pranks are going to distract you from your job, now’s the time to tell me. That’s bush-league distraction, Megan. I won’t put up with it. I need you focused. You’re back in the saddle. It’s up to you. Do you ride or do you slide back off?”

Megan didn’t hesitate. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. You’re right. McKinney’s going to bust my chops no matter what, and I might as well get used to it.”

“Good.” Gallo leaned back in his chair. “Now. Do you want to file charges?”

Megan’s mouth dropped open. “ Charges ?”

“Sexual harassment. You’ve got three witnesses. Four, including me. If you want to file, I’ll understand completely.”

“You must be kidding.”

“You can burn him if you want to. I’d just like a heads-up if you chose that route.”

“Sexual harassment? For Christ’s sake, I put a gun in the man’s face. I’m going to sue him ?”

“Gun?” Gallo made a large point of blinking. “Brian McKinney’s a pain in my ass. It wouldn’t destroy me to see him transferred out. But the easiest way to do that is to get some leverage.”

“Three other men saw me pull my gun.”

“Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t. I’d have to talk with them.”

Megan shook her head. “Joe, that’s railroading. Worse, it’s perjury.”

“It’s just a question. I thought I’d get it out there for you to consider.”

“If I file sexual harassment charges, I’m finished. You know that. Talk about a tattoo on my forehead.”

“That’s a little dramatic.”

“I’m not filing.”

“You should take some time to think about it.”

“I’ve thought about it. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I want to get back to Nikki and Cynthia.”

Gallo paused a few seconds. “Good. Let’s do it. You’ve got to give me a few minutes first to read McKinney the riot act.”

Megan waved him off. “Forget it. Don’t do it on my account. You’re not going to change him.”

“I could force him to apologize. You two could kiss and make up.”

Megan felt a flutter in her chest. It was as if a feather were fooling around behind her rib cage. Oh Christ, she thought. I’m going to say it.

“Hey, Joe, I don’t kiss boys, remember? That’s the basic problem here in the first place.”

RYAN POPE HAD NOT been exaggerating when he termed the contents of Nikki Rossman’s computer a gold mine. The printouts of material pulled from the dead woman’s hard drive were beginning to resemble skyscrapers. Sifting through the voluminous correspondences that Nikki had conducted with untold numbers of strangers (the tally was still not complete), Pope had commented, “This kind of throws into question the whole matter of just what is a healthy sex life.”

Pope and Megan talked to the people Nikki had worked with at Bloomingdale’s. They went through her address book. From a friend named Tina, they heard that Nikki had been hitting pretty hard on a bartender who worked at a bar fairly near Nikki’s apartment. They checked it out. The bartender’s girlfriend was present when Megan and Pope came into the bar to talk with him. The detectives picked up on some tension between the couple concerning the topic of Nikki Rossman, but nothing that suggested either of the two had staved in her skull, strangled her, slit her throat and dumped her body in Central Park. Not to mention that they both presented solid alibis.

At least one question got answered: the connection between Cynthia Blair and Nikki Rossman. Nikki’s computer overflowed with correspondence between her and dozens of faux Foxes, or Fox-Trotters. Megan and Pope showed photographs of Cynthia Blair to everyone they interviewed about Nikki, trying to deepen the connection. They also had a team retrace their steps and re-interview everyone who had been contacted previously concerning Cynthia Blair’s murder, showing them photographs of Nikki Rossman. Nothing surfaced. Two women from two different worlds.

“Crazed fan,” Joe Gallo said to the two detectives as they sat in his office going over what were being dubbed the “prime printouts.” “I know you don’t like it coming back down to that. I don’t, either. That gives us something like six million potential suspects. But that’s still the link between these two women. One worked for Marshall Fox, and the other one cyber-flirted with a bunch of his clones. Somebody out there has a screw loose for this guy. Scour the fan sites. Check with the people at the studio. See if anyone can be identified who keeps popping up in the studio audience.”