"Where have you two been? Olsen's looking all over for you."
Haseejian's ominous greeting seemed to end the day on the same sour note it had started. Following an equally drenched Mike into the bullpen, and getting rid of half the layer of damp clothes, Steve waited for the Armenian detective to get off his desk and head over their way. With an eyebrow raised in tense nervousness, Norm ran a hand over his balding head and pointed his chin toward the back office.
"Phones have been flying off the handle all afternoon. Who'd you guys manage to piss off?"
Rolling his eyes, Steve shook his head, trying to ignore the mandarin dress shirt and black tie sticking to his chest, and the dampness that enveloped every part of his body even an hour after they'd seen the last rain.
"It's been a long day, Norm.", he said in the most diplomatic way possible, careful not to let his frustration out on the wrong source.
Behind them, Mike was helping himself to a cup of coffee, then pouring a second one for his partner.
"Did he say what it was about?", the Lieutenant asked innocently, then turned around to join them.
"My guess is he's getting an earful from whoever you two hassled. Been in here three times asking for you. Did you get anywhere on your research? Any ties to our guy?"
"Nothing yet, but-"
Mike hesitated when he saw Olsen pass through the glass-walled vestibule of the bullpen, heading straight for their position. With the cigar hanging askew from his face, and his tie in no better shape, he exuded frantic stress from every pore of his body, all the way across the office.
"Mike…Stephen."
Without facing his detectives, he made a beeline for Mike's office, turning around to lean against the large window overlooking downtown, as his men joined him and closed the door behind them.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't arrest this McMillan guy for being a public nuisance, please."
"It's our victim's son, Rudy, you know what that can entail.", Mike explained matter-of-factly, having anticipated the outcome after their conversation with the uppity young man, "He became very…emotional during our interview and pledged to see to it that the case of his father's murder be handled by the most experienced detectives only."
Pursing his lips as he nodded, Olsen straightened out his cigar with one hand, his steel-blue eyes scanning both of his men.
"Well, he's got half the city making phone calls on his behalf, claiming that Stephen isn't experienced enough and that you are too narrow minded to handle this investigation. I figured before I call that…that punk back and give him a piece of my mind, I'd do some research myself, call up some resources. Did you know that later in life, your victim made some significant donations to local schools and universities? Seems like that was his sort of thing, judging by some of the phone calls we got. Teachers, Professors, everybody except your regular 8-5 blue collar workers blocked our phone lines for the past two hours."
"He could have decided to give much of his money to charity after his wife passed away.", Steve hypothesized and leaned his hands on the back of Mike's guest chair.
Nodding in agreement, Olsen played with his silver tie for a moment, trying to keep his fingers from fidgeting.
"Seems that way. A lot of very influential people were calling us up. So thread this one carefully, guys. I am going to give McMillan a call now, pretty much telling him that he does have the best detectives on this case and to back off and let us do our jobs…Mike, have you found anything yet that'll help in this case?"
With the slow headshake, Mike mimicked his partner's posture against the chair, trying not to show his frustration with the stagnant progress of their investigation.
"Not a whole lot yet. Bernie said he should be done with the autopsy by 7pm. We've found a couple things at Rudy McMillan's apartment I want to take a closer look at, possibly some family matters, but that'll have to wait until we can get a hold of his daughter tomorrow."
"Alright, well, do keep me up to date. I think Condon will want some information too on all that stuff. The press has been asking questions since yesterday."
"You got it, Rudy. The moment we hear something, you'll be the first to know.", Mike said, the sentence having become ingrained in his mind over the years.
With a grateful nod, the Captain rose from his position, stopped next to them to pat Mike's shoulder, before disappearing in the corridors of the Hall of Justice building once again.
As the tension slowly left the four walls of the Lieutenant's office, Steve straightened out his back, feeling every muscle protest from being cold for too long. Next to him, Mike checked his clock for a moment, fighting an internal battle on whether to keep going or call it a day.
"Do you wanne grab a pizza or something?", the young Inspector suggested, hoping the peace offering would do the job after a long day full of unrealistic public expectations, dead-end roads and bickering that hurt his feelings more than he cared to admit.
"No, I think I want to wait around for Bernie's report. See if he found anything besides the obvious."
Deep in thought, Mike had his head hung low, eyes tracing the edge of the overfilled inbox on his desk.
"You look pretty tired. We could call in after dinner, see if he's gotten back with us yet. Maybe a good night's sleep will make you feel better."
"Do I look like I take advice from someone who gets stuck behind furniture?", glancing over at him with a mixture of gratitude and humor, the Lieutenant reached for the nape of Steve's neck, before shaking him amicably, "I'll be alright. You head on home, Buddyboy. I'll call you if something comes up. Otherwise, I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning."
Sharing the overdue grin, the young Inspector cocked his head in understanding, before squeezing his partner's shoulder.
"You have a good night, Michael. I'll see you tomorrow."
As he left the office behind, Steve never saw Mike's face turn ashen at the thought of what terrors the upcoming night held in store for him.