A Manhatten courthouse, a few days later

As Dan Magadan, Jr., slowly rose to plead guilty, Olivia, seated beside her father, glared at the man's back. She had shot daggers at him the moment he entered the room. She had hoped that he would look towards and give her the opportunity to see her rage. But he had kept his head down, allowing the guard to guide him to his seat.

Not so tough without your gun, are you Danny? Especially not with a room full of cops. Those had been her thoughts.

Soon, the judging was pronouncing sentence. Magadan was to serve "life in prison with no parole." This sentence was to run consecutive with the shorter terms for the charges of attempted murder and assault with a deadly weapon. After the judge adjourned the hearing, the room erupted in applause, while Don squeezed Olivia's hand and exchanged looks of satisfaction with Marie, seated between him and Logan.

Later, as Captain Cragen drove Marie home to Brooklyn, Mike escorted Olivia back to St. John University. Her class was four hours away, so she didn't mind the slow traffic. Besides, it gave her the opportunity to speak to the solemn and silent detective.

"I think that went as well as it could," she said, turning towards him.

He grunted and replied grimly: "I'd prefer the death penalty--which we don't have.1 He's getting three hots and a cot for life."

"Yeah, some life," she answered sarcastically. "He'll be provided clothes--something along the lines of, say, grey or orange--sorry, no tweed2--with his very own number printed on them, lots of mopping, scrubbing, and license plate-making to keep him busy, and a pre-selected menu for every meal. Moreover, when it's 10PM, his father will always know where his namesake is--and why he's there."

"OK, point taken," Mike conceded.

"But I haven't gotten to the best part yet, Mikey," she soberly. "He's already under lock and key, and I'm alive and free--in spite of him." She began blinking rapidly. Thank you, Uncle Max.

A handkerchief was passed to her by the hand that squeezed hers. She turned to see Mike looking at her with a gentle compassion. Touched, she dabbed her eyes and returned the item. "Thanks," she said.

"No, thank you," he replied, tucking the handkerchief back into his jacket. "You're right. You're right, Olivia. Danny Boy is the big loser here, and you scored against him good when you picked him out of the mugshots. With his prints on the gun and your identification, he had to either give up or risk a trial." He squeezed her hand again as he thought: He also didn't want to listen to you tell the jury how he tried to eliminate you as a murder witness or how Max sacrificed himself to save you.

"Don't forget the statement from his friend at the DMV3," Olivia said, "and--hey, why are you still holding my hand?"

Mike chuckled, amused, a bit embarrassed. "I dunno," he said, smiling as he return his hand to the steering wheel. "Sorry about that."

"That's OK," she replied, smiling tentatively. "That's…OK." She was silent for a few minutes. Then she asked: "So where are we on the Talmadge case?"

Laughing lightly at her inclusion, Mike answered, "Well, right before I left to meet you all at the courthouse, we got a call from a narcotics unit in Brooklyn. They picked up 'lover boy' Paco Ruiz in a raid. He's a little out of it, so he's detoxing. But as soon as he's lucid, Phil and I are going to see if we can get the details from him."

Olivia sat in quiet thought for a few seconds before speaking. "Tell him that you'll ask the D.A. to go easier on him regarding the drug charges if he tells you everything he knows about that agency--who gave him the card, where did he meet him or her, anything!"

"All right, all right!" Mike tried to control his mirth because he knew she was being sincere--and that her strategies were sound. "You're preaching to choir, we got it covered, chill."

"I just want little Stephan found," she explained quietly, looking beyond the road before them. "I want to help finish what Uncle Max began."

"You have, Olivia, you have," he gently reassured her, touching her hand briefly. You convinced Marta to come to us with information about Paco, remember? We would have never known how to clue in the narcs otherwise." As they stopped at a red light, he turned to her soberly and added: "He's smiling down at you, Olivia, 'cause he's proud."

Her eyes misty, she kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Mike," she said softly, noticing the scent of his aftershave.

"You're welcome," he replied a bit slowly, trying to decipher the emotions he felt.

1 In 1991 New York State had yet to reinstate capital punishment.

2 Mike Logan wears tweed ties.

3 An acquaintance of Daniel Magadan, Jr., had unwittingly provided the murderer with Greevey's home address.