breathy level. “Don’t tell my boss, but I’ve got a line on a job in Aspen. Can you believe it? It would be a dream come true. I could ski all winter and hike all summer. When I wasn’t working, of course.” Casey laughed, a soft tinkling sound that made her seem like a teenager.
Schultz smiled and tossed another log on the fantasy fire. Then he got out of the conversation before she could ask him if he was new to the Department too.
After the pleasant diversion of his phone call, he stopped by Sergeant Twiller’s desk to let him know he had accepted the new assignment and would be working on CHIP. As he expected, Twiller already knew about it. Schultz headed to Wall’s office, his anger returning. He tapped on the door and stepped in without waiting for an answer. It was his old, confident style, fueled by an issue he needed to take up with the lieutenant.
“I’ve got to get something straight with you. I…” It dawned on Schultz that Wall was on the phone. The man gestured for him to sit down, and took a couple of minutes to wrap up his conversation, dropping the receiver emphatically into its cradle.
“You get a line on that hot item in Vehicles?” Wall said. It wasn’t the opening Schultz was expecting, and for a moment the fantasy that was cooking away on the back burner swept over him. How did this man know?
Wall snickered. “I can tell by the look on your face that you’ve talked to Racy Casey. Been over to Vehicles yet? You’ve got to take a number out in the hall, the traffic’s so bad over there.”
“Christ, Howard, do you ever get any business done in this office? Any police business, that is? Besides, I’m a happily married man.”
“Yeah, and I’m running for president next year. Anything that happens in this Department is police business, and she’s the biggest thing that’s happened in this Department in ages. Biggest being the operative word there.”
The two men sat in companionable silence for a moment.
“I hate to prick your balloon,” Schultz said, accenting prick, “but could we get serious here?” Somehow his anger had drifted away.
“Yeah, yeah, I know what you want to talk about. You don’t like working for a woman.”
Schultz sat back in his chair. Was that it? Was that the whole problem?
“Bullshit. I’m as modern as the next guy,” Schultz said. Depending, of course, on who the next guy is. “I just naturally assumed I was going to be in charge, that’s all.”
Howard did the thing with his fingers again, elbows on the desk, fingers making the steeple. “Schultz, let’s not try to fool anybody. You’re as modern as a Neanderthal. PJ Gray—Doctor Gray—is the head of CHIP. You’ve known that since the first time I mentioned it to you. That’s what she was hired for, and that’s the way the captain wants it. That’s the way I want it. If you want off the merry-go-round, now’s the time to speak up.”
Thoughts raced through Schultz’s head. He briefly considered how nice it was to get out from under Sergeant Twiller’s thumb. He had never gotten along with the man. He wondered how wide a berth he could give both the doc and the computer without Wall coming down on him, and decided he would play it by ear.
“I guess I’m still your man.”
“There’s no guessing involved here,” Wall said.
“All right, damn it. Just tell me I don’t have to use that fucking computer myself.”
“That’s it?” Schultz said. “That’s MBF 181?”
“Yup.” The garage attendant wasn’t very talkative. He was accustomed to disbelief.
Schultz gazed at his assigned vehicle. It was a Pacer, a blast from the past, and it was red. Well, sort of red. It had faded to an indescribable shade of orange. He opened the driver’s door and checked the dash.
“Shit, no air!” At least it had cloth seats. He slid in and noticed that it was a stick shift.
One out of four requests isn’t bad. Nice to know things haven’t changed while I’ve been
Schultz smiled and tossed another log on the fantasy fire. Then he got out of the conversation before she could ask him if he was new to the Department too.
After the pleasant diversion of his phone call, he stopped by Sergeant Twiller’s desk to let him know he had accepted the new assignment and would be working on CHIP. As he expected, Twiller already knew about it. Schultz headed to Wall’s office, his anger returning. He tapped on the door and stepped in without waiting for an answer. It was his old, confident style, fueled by an issue he needed to take up with the lieutenant.
“I’ve got to get something straight with you. I…” It dawned on Schultz that Wall was on the phone. The man gestured for him to sit down, and took a couple of minutes to wrap up his conversation, dropping the receiver emphatically into its cradle.
“You get a line on that hot item in Vehicles?” Wall said. It wasn’t the opening Schultz was expecting, and for a moment the fantasy that was cooking away on the back burner swept over him. How did this man know?
Wall snickered. “I can tell by the look on your face that you’ve talked to Racy Casey. Been over to Vehicles yet? You’ve got to take a number out in the hall, the traffic’s so bad over there.”
“Christ, Howard, do you ever get any business done in this office? Any police business, that is? Besides, I’m a happily married man.”
“Yeah, and I’m running for president next year. Anything that happens in this Department is police business, and she’s the biggest thing that’s happened in this Department in ages. Biggest being the operative word there.”
The two men sat in companionable silence for a moment.
“I hate to prick your balloon,” Schultz said, accenting prick, “but could we get serious here?” Somehow his anger had drifted away.
“Yeah, yeah, I know what you want to talk about. You don’t like working for a woman.”
Schultz sat back in his chair. Was that it? Was that the whole problem?
“Bullshit. I’m as modern as the next guy,” Schultz said. Depending, of course, on who the next guy is. “I just naturally assumed I was going to be in charge, that’s all.”
Howard did the thing with his fingers again, elbows on the desk, fingers making the steeple. “Schultz, let’s not try to fool anybody. You’re as modern as a Neanderthal. PJ Gray—Doctor Gray—is the head of CHIP. You’ve known that since the first time I mentioned it to you. That’s what she was hired for, and that’s the way the captain wants it. That’s the way I want it. If you want off the merry-go-round, now’s the time to speak up.”
Thoughts raced through Schultz’s head. He briefly considered how nice it was to get out from under Sergeant Twiller’s thumb. He had never gotten along with the man. He wondered how wide a berth he could give both the doc and the computer without Wall coming down on him, and decided he would play it by ear.
“I guess I’m still your man.”
“There’s no guessing involved here,” Wall said.
“All right, damn it. Just tell me I don’t have to use that fucking computer myself.”
“That’s it?” Schultz said. “That’s MBF 181?”
“Yup.” The garage attendant wasn’t very talkative. He was accustomed to disbelief.
Schultz gazed at his assigned vehicle. It was a Pacer, a blast from the past, and it was red. Well, sort of red. It had faded to an indescribable shade of orange. He opened the driver’s door and checked the dash.
“Shit, no air!” At least it had cloth seats. He slid in and noticed that it was a stick shift.
One out of four requests isn’t bad. Nice to know things haven’t changed while I’ve been
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