Roy Dewitt had stopped caring about the clouds of blue smoke he was leaving all over the bullpen a long time ago.
Sitting in Mike's chair, half turned around to keep downtown in his peripheral vision, his left hand was tapping a nervous rhythm against the surface of the Lieutenant's desk. Across from him, Bill Tanner studied Jim Holmer's gun registration intently, as if remembering every word, number and seemingly unrelated detail might help them close their case faster.
Without direct evidence that a mass shooting was an imminent threat, he'd been limited on what to do to keep everybody out of harm's way in a case that had drawn both, public attention and his superior's ire.
Sal Tidari's media coverage on a heavily manipulated tape containing parts of the heated interview with Mike had made the rounds across town faster than a homing pigeon. Unfortunately so, it had also raised questions about the way this case had been handled from the beginning, along with Keller's involvement.
Although he'd repeatedly dubbed the ex-cop turned Professor a blessing in disguise, Conden had been less than happy with the process of the investigation, including the help of Keller's two students, citing departmental red tape and public concerns about questionable credibility and favoritism in a case that called for anything but.
Hoping to appease the Chief and keep any petty internal issues out of the hands of the press; Dewitt had promised to help oversee the case through the very end, ensuring that due process would be followed and their serial killer suspect apprehended safely.
Little did Roy know at the time that a call into the responding Sergeant on the Amber Drive arrest incident had led him to learn about a whole other problem when it came to Keller's health. Saying a silent prayer for the young man to use common sense and stay on his feet, Dewitt reached for another cigarette, woefully realizing that he was quickly running out of matches.
If the blue hue bothered him, Tanner never let on as he glanced up at him in deep concern, quite possibly keeping track of the large volume of cigarettes being smoked in the small office with its door shut and the complaining he'd have to deal with once Mike got back.
"What kind of a person would go through all that effort…and murder three people to go after the Lieutenant?", the African American inspector asked out loud, his warm brown eyes scanning Dewitt's for an answer.
"People do the damndest things if they're hurting bad enough.", Roy countered sullenly and shook some ashes off his cigarette into the nearby ashtray, "Somehow they seem to think that causing others pain will erase theirs. But it don't work that way. Never does."
"Hopefully Mike and Steve can put an end to this before more people get hurt…"
Bill's quiet words resonated with his own deeply hidden fears and Dewitt drew another breath out of his cigarette before clearing his throat.
"Your words in Gods ear, Tanner.", he mumbled and looked back outside, "Because to be perfectly honest with you, I am worried too. Halfway across town, I've got a Lieutenant with a bullseye on his back and a kid who could drop dead any minute if he overexerts himself, neither one of which should be out there right now. But they're the best I've got and if anybody can break this case wide open, it's them. Just mark my words though…If something goes wrong, if this thing goes south and IA gets involved…we're all going to be walking the Tenderloin again."
