Jim Bradshaw had never been as angry or frustrated as he was at the man sitting across from him. The fact that the man happened to be the one that he trusted above all others compounded that frustration. He leaned back in his chair, silently appraising an emotionally drained Sydney Berry.
He sighed loudly, rubbing his chin and cheeks in the process. “Let me get this straight, Syd,” he said evenly, “I give you one of the very few direct orders I’ve ever given you. I rely on you. I trust you. Then you shit all over me. How do we go from being trusted friends who respect one another, to this blatant ‘go to hell’ attitude of yours? At what point did we stop working together?”
Sydney remained slumped in his chair, finally making eye contact with his friend and boss. “You left me no choice,” he said softly. “I couldn’t let dirty politics get in the way of catching this guy. Not at the expense of some young girl’s life.”
“But we’ve still got a dead girl on our hands,” Jim seethed, “plus a dead aide to the senator, plus two dead detectives. By the way, I just returned from seeing the widows of those two detectives.”
“Like I’ve already told you,” Sydney said, his temper rising, “Rushing and Fenney were acting totally independently.”
“Independence seems to be running rampant in your department.”
“Look,” Sydney said, leaning forward in his chair, “this is bullshit. If you want my badge, take the sonofabitch. If you don’t, then get off my back. I’ve had a very shitty weekend.”
Jim bit his lower lip, silently glaring at Sydney. “You’re not going anywhere, buddy. Not after dumping this load of shit in my lap.”
“I don’t screw my friends, Jim. If my hands hadn’t been tied, things might have worked out differently.”
“At this point, we need to be concerned with damage control. What do you suggest we tell the media outside?”
“The truth I guess,” Sydney replied defiantly, shrugging his shoulders.
“You really are a virgin,” Jim said, smirking sarcastically. “Let’s see how the truth sounds. Three of my best detectives followed a New York senator around because they thought he was the damn Butcher. Then they tailed his aide and the girl the senator rendezvoused with last night. Add to that the fact that my two most inept detectives managed to follow these top-notch sleuths around without their knowledge.” He stared at Sydney, shaking his head in wonder. “The real kicker is that everyone is deader than fucking doornails. After an entire night of surveillance by my crack homicide division, everybody is dead.”
“Alright, you tell me how we should handle it.”
“First, I’ve already told the widows of Rushing and Fenney that we can’t disclose the case their husbands were working on, because we are as much in the dark about it as anyone. I told them to expect further details as we uncover them.”
“What about Terry Morrell? Are we sweeping him under the rug too?”
“For the time being,” Jim answered, nodding. “There’s no reason for the media to connect the homicides. I really don’t want them to connect the woman with the other three.”
“You’re talking about a cover up.”
“No sir,” Jim said angrily. “I’m talking about buying some time so we can straighten this bullshit out. If the press gets wind of what really went down, you and I will be the laughing stocks of the entire city.”
“I’ve been laughed at before,” Sydney said defiantly. “I can handle it.”
“Sydney Berry, Mr. tough guy.”
“Nope—just a guy who’ll admit his mistakes.”
“I haven’t heard you admit it was a mistake to be out there last night in the first place. You haven’t admitted that it was wrong to blatantly disregard my orders.”
“I made some mistakes last night,” Sydney said, “but being there was most definitely not one of them.” He glared at Jim, hard and cold. “You mentioned all of the dead bodies from last night—did you notice that Senator Reed’s was not one of them?”
“We’ll never know where he went last night, since you fellas lost sight of him,” Jim replied, raising his arms in resignation.
Sydney hung his head, stung by Bradshaw’s direct hit. “You’re exactly right, Jim. I dropped the damn ball on that one.”
Bradshaw felt compassion for his old friend for the first time. “Hey, Syd, I’m sor—” Gert’s voice came over the intercom, interrupting his apology. “Captain, Senator Dexter Reed is here.” Jim glanced at Sydney, before replying evenly, “Send the senator in, Gert.”
“You mind if I stay?” Sydney asked.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Just let me do most of the talking.”
“He’s all yours.”
The door suddenly burst open, catching Sydney’s foot in the process. Dexter Reed barged in.
“You ever heard of knocking?” Sydney asked gruffly.
“I believe I was announced,” Reed scowled.
“Then by all means, come right on in.”
“I’m not here to trade quips with you, Lieutenant. I just came from identifying the body of my aide, Terry Morrell. I want to know who did this and why?”
Sydney stared at him, frowning sarcastically. “I was hoping you could help us with that question.”
Reed addressed Bradshaw, pointing at Sydney. “You see the attitude I’ve had to endure from this man, Captain?”
“To be quite honest with you, Senator, there are a couple of questions I’d like to ask you myself.”
Reed shook his head, throwing his hands in the air. He then turned toward the door. “I believe I’ll give Councilman Wiley a call. Maybe then I’ll get a little respect around here.”
Jim Bradshaw shocked both Reed and Sydney with his stern reply. “Senator, I suggest that you calm down and have a seat.”
Reed turned, sensing that it was in his best interest to listen, yet too stubborn to totally comply. Bradshaw walked slowly around to his chair. He gave Reed the same cold stare. “I asked you sit down.”
“And if I don’t?” Reed asked, smiling arrogantly.
Jim gave a quick nod to Sydney. “Lieutenant Berry, would you please tell the good senator your itinerary for last evening.”
Sydney raised his eyebrows slightly at Jim, who gave him a silent nod to proceed. “Captain,” Sydney stated, suddenly energized, “I had Senator Reed under surveillance last evening.”
“You sonofa—”
“No need for name calling, Senator,” Bradshaw interjected. “Lieutenant, describe the evening if you would.”
“Senator Reed met and eventually checked into a hotel with Miss Ashley Tanner, a twenty-one-year-old college student.” Sydney watched Reed for some kind of reaction. Anger was the predominant one, until confusion overcame it.
“How the hell did you find out her name?”
“After finding her mutilated body this morning, we checked her wall—”
Reed jumped in, his eyes opening wide. “Her body? What body? What the hell is going on here?”
Sydney frowned, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re going to try and tell me that you had no idea that Ms. Tanner was killed early this morning? She was the lead story. Senator, you had to have heard about it.”
Reed’s steel blue eyes showed menace, his face and neck red with suppressed anger. “Dammit, get it through your thick skull that I am not a murderer. A phone call is how I found out Terry was killed. I’ve heard nothing about Ms. Tanner.” A thought suddenly occurred to him. “Tell me, smart guy—if I’m this Butcher character—why the hell did I kill Terry Morrell?”
“Easy,” Sydney said, “because you found out that he’d been suspicious of you for weeks. He told us that very thing a few days ago.”
Reed sat down, shaking his head. “You’re a nut, Berry. A certifiable nutcase.”
Jim Bradshaw stood, walking to a point directly in front of Reed. “Ashley Tanner makes one too many victims that have been connected to you. I suggest that you cooperate with Lieutenant Berry in any way that you can. It is imperative that you help us tie up any loose ends we may have.”
“Go to hell, Captain,” he replied. “I’ve put up with as much of this bullshit as I’m going to. Wiley will—”
Raising his extended forefinger to his lips, Bradshaw suggested for the senator to cease speaking. “If you ever use Councilman Wiley’s name in my presence again, I’ll be forced to call a special press conference, bringing them up-to-date on everything. And I mean everything. Now, although I’m sure you could do some damage to the careers of myself and the lieutenant, I feel reasonably certain that, with an election coming up in a few days, this is not the kind of publicity you really need.”
“Blackmailed by a man sworn to fight such behavior,” Reed said, shaking his head in disgust.
“Senator,” he replied innocently, “you’re the one who pulled this thing into the mud. I’m just following your lead.”
“Besides,” Sydney piped in, “if you’re not our man, you have absolutely nothing to worry about.”
Reed scowled, rising from his seat. “Okay, I’ll be at your disposal, Lieutenant. Right now, though, I have a funeral to plan. Terry had no family.”
“I’ll probably need to see you later this afternoon, so don’t leave town.”
“I’ll be in New York until sometime tomorrow evening,” Reed replied, opening the door.
“You will be here until we tell you otherwise,” Jim Bradshaw corrected him coldly.
“I’m a card player, Captain,” Reed said, smiling wryly. “Right now, you have all the wild cards.”
Jim stared down the cocky statesman. “Two of my detectives were killed this morning, Senator. This is no fucking card game. I sincerely hope that we do not find anything that would lead us to your doorstep.”
“Enjoy this while you have the upper hand,” he responded in kind. “I’m a good person to have as a friend, but you sure as hell don’t want me as an enemy.”
“See, Captain,” Sydney said sarcastically, “he is so damn fast and loose with the threats.”
Reed chuckled. “Enjoy the laugh now, gentlemen. When the dust has cleared, let’s see who will get that all important last laugh.”
Bradshaw glanced quickly at Sydney, raising an eyebrow. “Lieutenant, have you accused Senator Reed of any crime?”
“Absolutely not, Captain,” he replied innocently. “We would simply like the good senator’s cooperation in our investigation, just as we would any other fine citizen.”
Reed, flashing a cold, menacing smile, turned to leave. “Good day, gentlemen.”
“I’ll be seeing you,” Sydney replied.
After Reed closed the door very firmly behind him, Jim addressed Sydney. “Either he’s an Academy Award winning actor, or he really was unaware of Ms. Tanner’s demise.”
“That’s what makes this case such a bitch,” Sydney said, shaking his head. “Everything fits… and nothing fits.” He let an awkward moment pass before finally continuing, “Um, Jim… I think you handled that beautifully. Maybe we can make some headway now.”
Jim, obviously uneasy, avoided eye contact with Sydney, then roughly cleared his throat. “Syd, you know I would’ve liked to have handled it that way from the start. When you make captain, you’ll see that everything isn’t always black and white.”
Sydney nodded agreement, though his demeanor said otherwise. “Yeah, Jim—it was a tough call. I hope I never have to make one as tough.”
Jim’s face reddened noticeably. “Alright, you’re the captain—Wiley calls to say stay away from the senator or else. What do you say?”
Sydney, never hesitating, looked his old friend in the eye. “I’d tell him to go to hell.”
Jim Bradshaw’s jaw tightened, his eyes locked on those of the man he respected more than anyone else in the world. After several introspective moments, he finally nodded, believing Sydney would do just that. He had never felt more small. “I guess you’re a better man than me,” he said, breaking eye contact. “Somewhere along the way, I started playing by their rules. We can’t all be Sydney Berry, supercop. I’m sorry, Syd.”
Sydney opened the door, pausing to glance sadly back at his friend. “Because this supercop made some stupid mistakes last night, I have to go face those reporters and more grieving family members. And all the ‘I’m sorrys’ in the world aren’t gonna make a damn bit of difference.”
They stared at each other in heavy silence, two good friends shouldering the blame for a night gone very wrong.
◆ ◆ ◆
Shirley watched from a distance, as a very subdued Sydney Berry patiently answered the probing questions of her fellow journalists. Sensing the pain he was obviously dealing with, her heart broke for him. His eyes were lacking their usual fire, depression and sleep deprivation reducing him to a shadow of his former self.
She wanted to wrap him protectively in her arms. She fought the urge to scream out, “Leave him alone! Can’t you see he’s had enough?” Instead, she suffered as she watched him suffer. Her only contribution was a willingness to refrain from questioning him.
“But, Lieutenant,” a reporter said, “it seems very strange for another woman to be slaughtered on the same night that two of your detectives are killed. Across the street, Senator Reed’s aide is also found murdered.”
Sydney fought the urge to rub his aching temples. “Coincidences are strange by definition,” he managed in close to a whisper.
“Why the double talk, Lieutenant? They were all killed with a knife. Certainly Morrell, Rushing and Fenney are all related.”
“I’m here to discuss the Ashley Tanner homicide. Captain Bradshaw will be fielding questions about the other three homicides. I do know that we were not aware of any open investigation that the two detectives were currently working on.”
Sydney continued to field the questions, his head pounding from the onslaught. He did manage to lock eyes with Shirley for one telling instant. In that briefest of moments, she transmitted as much warmth and understanding as she could muster. Instinctively, she felt that the message had, indeed, been received.
Shirley realized with a sudden, undeniable clarity, that the city’s biggest story took a back seat to the fact that the man she loved was suffering. It was easily the most frightening and the most exciting realization of her life. She was head-over-heels in love with the strong, simple man, whose blue eyes were the window to his soul.
◆ ◆ ◆
Three o’clock that afternoon, two emotionally drained and physically exhausted detectives huddled in Sydney’s office.
“I’ve been racking my brain, going over everything that happened last night,” Ellis said sullenly.
“Yeah, so have I,” Sydney said, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “I’ll be honest with you, bud—I need to get some sleep before we tackle Reed.”
“I heard that. You want me to call the senator and tell him to make himself available tomorrow morning?”
“That’s probably our best bet,” Sydney said, standing. “I’ll get a couple of uniforms to shadow Reed until tomorrow.”
“That won’t cause a problem?”
“I’m going to tell them to be as conspicuous as humanly possible. We both need to rest… and the only way we can do that is to be certain that Reed’s whereabouts are known at all times.”
“Amen,” Ellis said, rising from his chair. He stared at Sydney, his eyes watering, his emotions still frayed from the tragic turn of events. “Syd, are we responsible for that girl being killed? H—How the hell did we let it happen?”
Sydney’s eyes glistened, a huge lump forming in his throat. Fighting it off, he cleared his throat. “Ellis, we need to give ourselves one night to digest everything that happened. Tomorrow, we’ll take a fresh look at all of those questions.”
Ellis nodded, totally defeated. “Yeah… a fresh look… tomorrow…”
Sydney spoke with more force and authority. “Ellis, we still have a job to do. Get some sleep. Think about what questions we need to ask Reed tomorrow. Touch base with Warren. Get it together.”
Ellis slowly nodded, a single tear rolling down his chubby cheek. “Yes, sir,” he answered weakly.
“I’ll see you in the morning—about eight.”
“Eight it is,” Ellis said, shuffling out slowly.
Sydney looked around the office, releasing a loud sigh. He turned out the light, anxious to bring the longest twenty-four hours of his life to a merciful end.
◆ ◆ ◆
Sydney sensed that someone was in his apartment, the hair raising on his neck the minute he stepped into the foyer. Service revolver in hand, he quietly but quickly checked the living room. Finding nothing, he made his way to the back of the apartment. A few feet from the closed bedroom door, another of his senses kicked in. The scent drifted under his nose, causing him to instantly mentally grasp for a fleeting, sweet dream. Slowly, he turned the knob, opening the door to the room… and to his heart. It was her perfume he had smelled.
She smiled at him, noting his gun. “You going to shoot me, Lieutenant?”
He holstered the revolver, his eyes never leaving her.
She pulled the sheet back, revealing the naked splendor of her body. “You’ve had a rough day. Come to bed.”
After recovering from the initial shock, he slowly shook his head. “Lady, I can’t take having you, only to lose you again.”
She rose, five feet, seven inches of perfection, crossing seductively to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, molding her nakedness to him. “In that case, why don’t you just have me?”
They stared seriously into each other’s eyes, neither of them blinking. “For how long, Shirley?”
She smiled, then kissed his lips softly. “For as long as you want me in your life.”
He lifted her, his stare unyielding. “And what if someone finds out about us?”
“I guess,” she replied softly, “you’ll just have to admit to them that you’re hopelessly in love with me.”
Sydney carried her to the bed, laying her gently on the mattress. He stood, his eyes traveling longingly down her body. Shaking his head in wonder, his fingers began working on his shirt buttons. “Lady, I’ll shout it from the mountain tops.”
“Just say it,” she said softly.
“I’ve already said it,” Sydney replied, even more softly. “I want to hear you say it.”
She reached out, taking his hand in hers. Several seconds passed as they gazed deeply into each other’s eyes. “Sydney Berry, I love you truly. Truly, I do.”
Sydney finished undressing, then climbed in beside her, fusing his body with hers. “I’m going to hold you to that. Truly, I am.”