EYE OF THE STORM

The tyres hissed over the tarmac as the rain continued to fall, blurring lights and deadening the usual city sounds, the rhythmic thump …. thump …. thump of the wipers as they reached the end of each arc clashing with the hectic beating of her heart.

Beckett dropped a gear, felt the back of the car step out as she took the corner way too fast and then she was flooring the accelerator, flicking her wrist for a bit of opposite lock and then feeling the tyres grip and pull the car straight as she headed down the next stretch. The few cars ahead of her were quickly pulling to one side, the flashing blue light on her dashboard for once doing its job. To her right, the trees of East River Park gave way to the blurred expanse of the East River itself as FDR Drive curved round to follow the shore, the lights of Hunter's Point winking through the curtain of rain.

Approaching the next curve in the road she could make out the emergency vehicle lights up ahead and for the first time since she had dived into her car she lifted her foot off the accelerator, bringing the car to a stop just behind a patrol unit. She was out of it and flashing her badge even as a Uniform approached her, then she was past him and striding quickly to the edge of the road overlooking the bikeway.

The crane, straddling the road just before the Exit 7 sign was already hoisting the vehicle over the concrete division separating the road from the bikeway and the East River below. Water poured out of the open passenger door as the car swung like some ungainly catch on the end of the boom.

Beckett felt someone pulling on her arm and turned to see the same Uniform urging her to move back …. Kental she saw on his tag … Officer Kental … she swung back to look at the car but allowed herself to be led back far enough to clear the area where the car was going to be deposited.

As the creaking chassis settled on its tyres, the passenger door swung slightly closed, water still pouring out from different points and running in rivulets along the already soaked roadway. Pulling her arm free from the officer's hold and oblivious to the shouts around her, Beckett ran to the passenger door and swung it open to peer inside. It was empty, no body strapped into the driver's seat, no one in the back … then she was being pulled back, an angry face asking her what the hell she was doing, wasn't she aware of the danger of a chain snapping or some ….. Kental was beside her, appeasing the angry face under the hard hat, pulling her back, turning her away from the empty car and leading her to the passenger seat of his own vehicle.

It was several minutes before she became aware that the squatting figure of Officer Kental had been replaced by the leaning down figure of Detective Gonzalez from the 13th. She knew a little about Joe Gonzalez, like most Detectives knew a little about the others on the force, a mix of rumours, stories and meetings during combined ops or at end of year parties, and what she had heard did not displease her.

She looked up at the walnut brown wrinkled face with the slightly too-big moustache and the penetrating black olive eyes which were now peering at her from below the brim of an old-fashioned trilby. Detective Gonzalez was getting close to retirement but was reputed to be as dogged now as he had been when he first started and Beckett knew he was no fool … nor did he take kindly to fools or other precincts sticking their noses into 13th's patch.

For several moments they stared at each other, neither saying anything, both conveying much. Then with a nod of his head he straightened up and signalled her to get into her own car. He waited until she was settled in her seat before turning to the scene of the accident and walking over to the tall, lanky detective taking notes as he talked to the Uniforms standing beside the beached car.

From her seat, Beckett, uncaring or unaware of her bedraggled appearance, watched as the craning cables and chains were released and the boom retracted. Almost immediately the CSU tow truck was backing its way up to the vehicle, the police photographer moving out of the way to allow them to attach the hook and pull the car up onto the bed before slinging a tarpaulin cover over the wreck.

It was the opening of the passenger door which brought her to her senses and made her realise she was gripping the steering wheel like her life depended on it. By the time the Detective had settled into the seat and slammed the door shut, she had had time to pull herself together and build up her defences.

Joe Gonzalez ignored her for several minutes as he flicked through the pages of his notebook, water drops splashing off the brim of his trilby, the regular beat of raindrops on the roof the only immediate sound. The beeping of reversing vehicles, the yells and the calls, the firing up of engines, all the noise going on outside curiously muffled by rain and the confines of her car.

With a sigh he flipped the book closed, pulled the top of his raincoat aside and slipped it into his breast pocket before settling back and turning his whole body towards her. They stared at each other in silence and she could have sworn she saw his lips twitch for a fraction of a second before the immutable mask slipped back in place.

"Call was made from a barge seeing the headlights flying over the edge and into the water. No other witnesses, at least none that have come forward yet. Must have been doing well over ninety to smash through the barrier like that. Impact was taken by the right front corner which doesn't explain the damage to the left front panel and driver's door. No traces of occupant or occupants. Divers are dredging the river and the MSB are checking currents and working out possible drift and distance. CSU will be crawling all over the car as soon as its back … we may get something more off them over the next hours."

His quiet voice came to stop, the dark eyes observing her as he passed on the bare bones of the little information they had gathered over the last couple of hours. Now he was silently informing her, it was her turn.