both are acutely aware of how much they depend on each other. The status quo is maintained with them both floating around in an atmosphere of mutual cooperative loathing.
‘What do you know about the Jackson Burch arrest?’ Conner asked in a hushed voice.
‘Why? You interested in him?’
‘No, just wanted to pester you.’
‘You are excelling.’
‘Thanks.’ Conner flashed a ironic grin. ‘So?’
‘So, I know two things about the Burch hearing and that’s all. One, I won’t be the prosecuting attorney because they’re bringing in a federal prosecutor from DC.’
‘Figures.’ That was expected but still a blow. It meant that the chances of blagging a look at the case notes just dropped from unlikely to non-existent. ‘And the second thing?’
‘That around –’ he glanced at his watch ‘– two hours ago ... Jackson Burch was bailed out onto the street.’
‘What? You’re kidding?’ Conner hadn’t even considered this as a possibility. ‘You got the details?’
‘Of course,’ Dickens said with an overplayed twang of sarcasm. ‘I actively memorize all details of the court’s proceedings just in case I can be of service to you.’
‘Thanks. Appreciate it,’ Conner concluded sarcastically and walked away to go look up the information himself.
A few moments later he was back at his desk studying the details of Bigby’s bailer and bail-bondsman. A few minutes after that he concluded that whoever the bailer was he had used fake ID. No surprises there, which left only one course of action. He stood up purposefully, grabbing essentials from his desk.
‘I’m off to visit a back-street bail-bondsman,’ he announced to Mila. ‘You coming?’
Mila was engrossed in something at her desk such that the words did not even register.
‘Mila?’
She looked up this time. ‘Sorry, what?’
‘Back-street bail-bondsman questioning. Fancy it?
‘Oh, umm, inviting offer, but I’ll pass. Got some ... stuff to sort out here.’
‘Okay.’
On his way out, Conner was pulled to one side by McCarthy.
‘Listen,’ the chief said, ‘don’t go sniffing around the Bigby arrest. I don’t think it would be good for your health.’
‘Why? What do you know?’
‘Nothing, other than I’ve had federal heavies on my case giving me the same warning. I believe them. You should too. They don’t want us messing around in this.’
‘Sure.’
Conner nodded slowly and walked out. He didn’t want to commit further because that would mean either lying or disobeying. The truth was that he was too personally invested in Bigby to drop out now, but he was damned if he was going to investigate on his own time. Cops in the movies may do their best work whilst suspended but he was rather fond of the pay cheque.
Conner tried his best not to curse his bad fortune regarding the Bigby release. He knew that such things just came with the territory of undercover investigation. With sensitive operations you can’t go around shouting about them. You can’t put little Post-it notes on people’s desks – like in City Hall – saying ‘If you know anything about this man please give Detective Alvisa a call on 555–etc.’ Hence, things can happen outside one’s sphere of knowledge. Like this.
In an ideal world Conner would have tailed Bigby from when the guy had been released. But Conner was a few hours behind the curve for that to be an option, so his only next shot was trying to figure out who bailed Bigby out. Presumably, bailer and bailee would be meeting up at some point and that would lead him back to Bigby.
As he walked along the street, he mulled over the scenario. The federal heavies come waltzing in; arrest a guy with some cock-and-bull murder story; slap gagging orders left, right and centre, like it’s some issue of national security; and then? Then they grant the guy bail . Bail is virtually unheard of in murder cases and this was clearly no ordinary murder case. When did everything stop making
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley