No More Mr Nice Guy, by Castaway Jane.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to CBS and Viacom, again I'm just using them for a little escapism, please don't sue.
Authors Note: Although this story refers to some issues raised in my last piece of fan fiction "Wake up Sleeping" which I posted all the way back in April 2002, it should make basic sense to those of you who haven't read it.
A volunteer is worth twenty pressed men
Thursday 18th May 17:42
Steve held up the yellow police tape allowing his father to duck underneath nimbly; Mark raised his eyebrows as he entered the vast marbled hallway. The house on West Marine Road was matched in its enormity by its beautifully tasteful décor. Far from being sparse or formal, the huge interior managed to exude a warm, homely feel. Steve cleared his throat as Mark continued to gaze around, his face wide-eyed with a hint of a smile. Clearing his throat again failed to attract his fathers attention.
"Dad" he snapped, leading Mark by the arm towards the hub of the action.
"Oh, yes sorry" he spluttered "details, you said you'd fill me in when I got here"
"You didn't have to come you know" Steve informed him as they continued to make their way through the throngs of police officers and forensic experts "regular robbery homicide by the looks of things, I don't see why you were so insistent on coming down"
Mark smiled and stroked his lips a little, "come on Steve, a guy as high-powered and high-profile as Max Simmons, society talk and all, not to mention a huge place like this" he twirled open armed in the entrance hall, staring up at a huge crystal chandelier. "I thought I could be of assistance"
"You thought you could snoop" Steve surmised. Mark shrugged and grinned sheepishly.
"Wasn't he great in 'Hearts of the Innocent', I loved that film" the old man spluttered, attempting to divert attention from his guilt.
"Amanda's through here" Steve said pointing towards what was obviously Simmons' office. They were met in the doorway by the gurney carrying Simmons' bagged body out to the awaiting ambulance. Forensics officers packed the room, some dusting for prints, others photographing the scene. Steve flashed his badge to the uniformed officer on the door and made his way to where Amanda knelt.
"Hey Steve, Mark" she nodded, removing a pair of blood stained gloves. "Seems like there was a brief struggle" she flinched as a bright glare hit the window.
"Goddamn press! Someone get out there and keep them the hell back" a plain-clothes officer yelled scuttling to the window and flicking the blinds closed.
Amanda slowly stood and continued "single GSW to the chest, close range judging by the charring and tattooing." She paused "but no star-shaped entry wound to suggest contact between the muzzle and chest. Given the entry point and amount of blood loss" she motioned towards the once cream, now crimson carpet at her feet "I'd say death would have been almost instantaneous".
The pain-clothes officer joined them "hey Amanda" he barked gruffly. He extended a hand towards Mark. "You must be Doctor Sloan"
Mark nodded, trying his best not to wince at the ferocity of the other mans grip.
"Dad, this is Rodney Brown, he's leading the investigation" Steve finished the introduction. Brown was stocky, and at only 5' 8" Steve towered over him. Mark guessed he was in his mid 50's, his complexion was pale, his face covered with thick stubble and he wore a smart dark blue suit over an ill fitting and crumpled white shirt. His short-cropped chestnut hair was heavily flecked with grey, and his brown eyes sat wearily above black bags.
"Heard you're a useful guy to have around" Brown continued "I'll be honest doc" he shot a look at Steve "I'm not used to having civilians, or partners pa's assisting on my cases, but I ain't a bull-headed man. Junior here and I run the case, you want to help, fine by me, anything to make my job easier". He mockingly wagged a finger at Mark "and that's the crux, make the job easier, toss a few ideas around, what I don't need is Miss Marple throwing obstacles in my path. I've heard good things about you doc, I'm sure we'll get on fine". Brown smiled broadly to indicate he'd finished setting the ground rules and returned his attention to Amanda. "So my dear, how long before you get the story on the stiff?"
Amanda smiled sweetly and replied dryly "the autopsy shouldn't take too long, I could have the results by the morning, depends how much blood work you want"
"The whole nine yards Amanda, something as high profile as this, we don't want to cut any corners." Amanda nodded and made her way to the door as Brown switched his attention to Steve "OK Sloan…junior" he added as Mark looked on "I need a word with the forensics boys, wait here."
As he waddled off Steve gave a mock salute and Mark pulled his son to one side "what did you do to get paired up with him?" he asked jokingly. "Actually, what are you doing working a homicide at all?" he asked sounding a little anxious.
"Dad" Steve moaned, "I've been stuck at that desk so long I was beginning to forget what the outside world looked like. So, I discussed it with Masters…"
"You bugged him to death more like" the old man smirked.
"I explained that my medical is only a few weeks off so it's about time I got my hand back in."
"I'm surprised he agreed" Mark confessed.
"Well….." Steve grinned sheepishly "he was adamant that he wasn't going to let me work any street crime just yet"
"I should think not" Mark jumped in.
Steve rolled his eyes "But we got this call this morning, the department is over stretched at the moment and Rod's usual partner is off sick so….."
"Master's had to give in" Mark nodded.
"Master's had to scrape the bottom of the barrel" Steve corrected him "it was either me or wrench Hollings from that corner office he's been hibernating in for the past six years."
"Hollings?" Mark pondered out loud "don't think I've met him"
"Not many people have" Steve laughed "last time he worked an active case I was probably still in uniform. But I'm not complaining, it gets me out of filing for a few days and if we get a quick result it will prove to Master's that I'm ready to start working real cases of my own again."
"You have nothing to prove to anyone," his father reminded him.
Steve nodded "I know, I just want to get things back to normal."
"Junior!" Rod hollered from across the room "let's hit the road".
Steve drew a calming breath "thank you for coming over dad, your assistance is always a great help" he smiled at his father, raising a conspiratorial eyebrow.
"My assistance? Oh my assistance" Mark grinned catching on. "Should I hang around a little longer and…"
"Snoop" Steve nodded.
"I was going to say assist some more" Mark huffed as his son turned as left. Allowing his eyes to pan around the room a sly grin crossed his face "Me, snoop!" he muttered to himself indignantly.
