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FSS Lambeth
Kate pressed the elevator button again, shuffling her feet impatiently as she watched the numbers tick up toward her. It had been one long-ass day, and all she could think about was hot coffee, warm blankets and vegging out courtesy of her internet TV service. The elevator chimed, the doors sliding open seconds later, and Kate was relieved to see the car was empty. She quickly pressed the “L” button and uttered that little silent elevator prayer that everyone utters, even if they deny it... That the doors will close before someone shows up, delaying the cars movement even a second longer than necessary. The doors slid closed with no last-minute passengers pushing their way in, and soon Kate felt the slight lunge of her stomach as the elevator car began its descent.
Floor by floor, the elevator continued its descent, and Kate was amazed that no one else was headed down to the lobby, and home, at the same time as her. The elevator reached the bottom, and the doors chimed open. Kate stepped out into the lobby and headed quickly for the doors. She just wanted to get out the doors and –
“Miss Gardener?”
Damn it... Kate stifled a groan, putting a pleasant and welcoming smile on as she turned toward the source of the voice.
“Mister Wilkinson.”
Jerome Wilkinson smiled the tightest of smiles as he stopped beside her. Kate’s naturally acute observation skills were on high alert as she took in the distinguished black man’s appearance, from his classically-styled overcoat to the lines of the dark Armani suit beneath it, his perfectly groomed appearance overall, and the tense emotional state evidenced in his face and shoulders. Wilkinson was not comfortable being there, which made Kate’s curiosity even greater than it already was.
“I had hoped to catch you before you went home. I was in the area and thought I’d save us both some time and effort.”
Kate’s brain quickly processed the statement, wondering how a barrister, who should have been at the Inns of Court, or the Old Bailey or somewhere amidst a herd of lawyers, had ended up “in the area” on the south side of the river. “O-kay,” Kate said slowly, a puzzled frown on her face.
“I just thought you’d like to know that the jury in the Crane inquest reached a verdict this afternoon. Lawful killing.”
“Translation for the American, please?”
A smile tugged at Wilkinson mouth as he replied, “The jury concluded that the shooting was justified.”
“Ah, I see. Good. Great. So, Sergeant Pierce gets his gun back, in a manner of speaking.”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”
“Okay. Cool. Thank you.” Kate smiled pleasantly and started to step toward the door, but Wilkinson cleared his throat.
“Miss Gardener?”
“Mister Wilkinson.”
Kate watched as the man appeared to struggle internally, like what he was about to say was singularly distressing to him, but he knew it had to be said and was trying to gather himself to get it over with. She couldn’t imagine what –
“Miss Gardener, I wanted to apologize for what happened during the inquest... For what Mister Warwick did to you in his questioning. Based on what I was told... It was uncalled for to interrogate you in that way, completely inappropriate for the situation.”
Kate nodded. “It’s fine. Thank you.” It wasn’t fine... Not by a long shot. The “interrogation”, as Wilkinson had termed it, that had taken place during the inquest into the death of Neville Crane, Kate’s former boss and friend, had been nothing more than an attempt to discredit her, and to antagonize Pierce through her. It almost worked, too...
Wilkinson forced a smile, one which quickly faded as he caught site of something or someone through the glass doors.
“May I make a suggestion, Mister Wilkinson?”
Wilkinson’s eyes snapped back to her, bright and a bit alarmed. “A... suggestion?”
“Yes.” Kate plastered a pleasant smile on, knowing that anyone who was watching the pair out of hearing range would think they were simply enjoying pleasantries. “I can appreciate not liking people we work with. It happens... bad chemistry... bad behavior... bad time of the month... whatever. But when you let your personal feelings get in the way of doing a good job, you might hurt the person you hate a little bit, but you hurt everyone else, too... The public, the course of justice... and the person you hurt the most? Yourself. You might want to sit your buddies Warwick and Grayson down and tell them that before their personal hard-on for Richard Pierce blows up in their faces.” She paused a moment as a rush of air from the front door opening wafted by her, bringing the scent of the outdoors... and Pierce’s cologne. Kate allowed her smile to grow wider. “Oh, and please do tell them... I won’t forget what happened... and I’ll be watching them very, very carefully from now on.” She punctuated her statement with a nod, then turned toward the doors.
Pierce was indeed approaching from the doors, but he had slowed, his smiling fading away completely when he saw Wilkinson.
Kate glanced back at Wilkinson, whose discomfort had increased exponentially as she spoke. She had a feeling people didn’t take him to task in general, though Reynolds didn’t seem like the type to let himself, or his office, be made a fool of.
“Everything alright?” Pierce’s voice was deep, a natural way of asserting himself in the presence of the other man, although he talked directly to Kate with no acknowledgement of Wilkinson.
“Fine and dandy! Mister Wilkinson was just bringing me the good news.”
“Good news?” Pierce asked, a puzzled frown creasing his brow.
Kate glanced briefly at Wilkinson. His exterior seemed as pompous as always, but Kate could tell the man was wilting a bit and wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. She decided to relay only the first part of the conversation. “The Crane inquest. Jury found it to be ‘lawful’.”
Pierce’s frown faded immediately, replaced by a look of relief. “That is good news.”
“Yes, well,” Wilkinson interjected, taking several steps toward the door. “I must get back to CPS. Have a good evening.” He turned heel and walked away as fast as he could, disappearing through the doors.
“He was in a hurry,” Pierce chuckled.
“Uh, yeah,” Kate replied, her own smile matching his. “I believe he had some messages to deliver, or something. So, what brings you to Lambeth... dropping off or picking up?”
“Hmmm... not sure.” Pierce’s face continued smiling, but the eyes told another tale, one that couldn’t be hidden from the overly-sensitive Kate.
“What’s wrong? And don’t say nothing... You should know better, and if you didn’t want to talk, you wouldn’t have come to see me.”
Pierce chuckled, and glanced around the lobby. “I don’t want to talk here. Too many eyes and ears.”
“Okay.” Kate’s eyes narrowed, but she smiled. “I know a place. C’mon.”