Sydney stood in the crowded conference room, angry about the fact that his presence had been ordered. If Jim Bradshaw was going to act as Dexter Reed’s public relations spokesman, Sydney sure as hell didn’t want to watch. The conference had been called by Reed’s campaign staff, eager to diffuse the publicity the Butcher connection was getting. The department had been instructed to tell the press that the killer had been fixated on Reed, and that the senator had been helpful in apprehending the suspect.
Sydney cringed at the role he and Jim had to play in the farce. But Jim had told him to be there… so there he was. He squeezed Shirley’s hand, happy to have her at his side.
Reed was at the podium, Jim Bradshaw standing behind him. Sydney stood with the reporters, wearing the scowl that Senator Dexter Reed always seemed to inspire.
“… this deranged young man was fixated on me for some reason we will probably never understand,” Reed’s voice droned on. “Now that he’s been eliminated, thanks to the excellent work of the best police department in these United States, I plan to work tirelessly until the election next week.” He turned to Bradshaw. “I believe that Captain Bradshaw has a few words he’d like to say.” Reed left the podium, joining his friend, Councilman Wiley, just a few feet away from Sydney.
Jim Bradshaw addressed the crowd. “As Senator Reed has told you, this individual did have a fixation on him. And, as he also stated, the senator did take part in a sting operation we had set up, and even though the operation proved futile, we appreciate his cooperation anyway.”
Sydney shook his head glumly, wondering if a system that made Jim mouth those words was worth protecting.
Jim Bradshaw scanned the room, finding Sydney, their eyes locking for an instant. Suddenly, a half smile creased Jim’s stoic features, causing the hair on Sydney’s neck to stand up.
“But, to be quite honest with you, ladies and gentlemen of the press, there’s a little more to that story. And shouldn’t we be totally honest with you? After all, we are the New York City Police Department. We work for you.”
Sydney could sense the reporters leaning forward, craning for that next word. He glanced over at Reed and Wiley, fear replacing their smug grins.
“I believe that it is the right of the people of New York City, no, make that the entire state of New York, to know all of the facts of this case—not just the ones that certain factions want us to tell you. Would all of you agree with me on that point?”
Dozens of heads nodded in unison, a chorus of affirmative responses directed at the podium. Sydney smiled broadly at Jim, proud to call him a friend. Reed and Wiley looked on, their faces white and bloodless.
“I should start out by expounding upon Joel Erickson’s fixation on the senator.” He paused, savoring the moment. “Mr. Erickson alleged that he was, in fact, Dexter Reed’s illegitimate son—a fact that I can neither confirm, nor deny.”
The atmosphere in the room was electric, pencils flying over note pads, reporters crowding toward the podium.
Sydney walked over to Reed, a man who appeared to sense that his career might be disappearing right in front of his eyes. Leaning over, he whispered, “I believe that there’s an opening for head shit-shoveler over at the police stables.” If Reed heard him, there was no sign of it. He simply stared ahead, his world crumbling before him.
Wiley shoved his way to Sydney, his face red as a beet. “You and Bradshaw are the ones who’ll be looking for work tomorrow.”
Jim paused, as he saw Wiley grab Sydney’s arm. “There are many aspects of this case that we were told to keep quiet about. Councilman Wiley threatened my career, should I dare bring Senator Reed’s name into this unpleasantness.” He pointed at Wiley, so startled by the mention of his name, that his hand still gripped Sydney’s arm. “Even as I speak, I believe he’s threatening my lieutenant. Is that accurate, Lieutenant Berry?”
Sydney nodded vigorously. “Captain, he says that both you and I will be looking for work tomorrow.”
“But, Lieutenant,” Jim said, feigning fear, “times are hard out there. I just can’t afford to lose my job right now.”
The throng of reporters was mesmerized by the exchange.
Sydney played along. “I guess we’ll just have to hope that the citizens of New York will not stand for such shabby treatment of their employees, sir.”
“Well, let’s just hope that telling the truth won’t do us both in,” Jim agreed, nodding. “That truth, ladies and gentlemen, is that Senator Reed was, himself, a suspect in these murders, even up until this past weekend. We have cleared him of any participation in the murders, but we do need to let you know just what led us to believe that he could, possibly, be involved. And to do that, I’d like to ask Lieutenant Berry to take over.”
Reed and Wiley stormed out. No reporter was even tempted to leave the press conference.
Sydney started to walk toward the podium, but was held back by Shirley, who refused to let go of his hand. “What’s on your mind, lady?” he asked, looking intently into her eyes.
She leaned into him, planting a kiss on his lips. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
“I guess our secret’s out now,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.
She smiled back. “There’ve been too damn many secrets. Go tell them the truth.”
“Yes ma’am,” he said, his entire world in perfect harmony. Well, almost his entire world.
◆ ◆ ◆
Sydney walked into the room, nodding to the ever-present Warren Burroughs. He then took in the sleeping patient. “How is he?” he whispered.
A familiar voice rang out, a bit raspy, but music to Sydney’s ears. “I’m fine, you sons of bitches. Stop talking about me like I’m not in the room.”
Sydney walked over to his friend, feelings passing without words. He gripped the large, meaty hand.
Warren slapped Sydney on the back. “We’ve got even more good news for you.”
“I find it hard to believe that this day could get any better,” he replied sincerely.
“Prepare to be surprised then,” Warren said, nodding and smiling. “They hauled his ass onto the scales a little while ago.”
Sydney looked at Ellis, who flashed a weak but proud grin. “One hundred and ninety-eight pounds,” Ellis said hoarsely.
Sydney and Warren dissolved into laughter. “I’ll bet you’ll take my advice next time,” Sydney howled, tears coming to his eyes. “Jogging has gotta beat the shit outta this.”
They laughed and cut up like three long lost brothers, only stopping when Sydney noticed Ellis wince from the exertion.
“Warren, we should probably let this guy rest,” he said, full of genuine concern.
“I’m okay, Syd,” he said, smiling bravely. “Warren was telling me that they found the receiver in this douchebag’s car?”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding, “Erickson worked as a clerk of some kind at a law firm across town. They said that they were about to fire him for absenteeism. He was obviously spending most of his time following Reed around.”
Warren piped in, “I found out this morning that he had also worked part-time as an apprentice locksmith in Cambridge. That explains how he got into the apartments.”
Sydney nodded, not surprised at the news. “He was in training, I guess. That job was just an investment in his sorry future.”
Ellis frowned at Sydney, pondering his next question.
“What?” Sydney asked.
“What happened in that room, Syd?” he asked seriously.
Sydney paused, obviously uneasy. “There was a lot of misery in that room, Ellis. Nate Swilling’s… mine… maybe even Joel Erickson’s to some extent. He paused again. Something had to give.”
A heavy silence filled the room, which Warren finally broke. “Kinda like we used to say about the buttons on your shirts, Ellis. Something had to give.”
Ellis started to laugh, but suddenly winced instead. “Way to go, asshole. You made me pop my stitches.”
Sydney face grew serious, concern replacing levity. “You okay, buddy?”
Ellis burst out laughing, pleased with himself. “Gotcha.”
Sydney shook his head, chuckling. “Asshole.” Through the tears of laughter, Sydney realized just how much that asshole meant to him. His entire world was then in harmony.