"I'll admit, it's a surprise seeing you for a second time this week. And Inspector Keller for a third time…I guess…"
Gifford's previous confidence deteriorated into a nervous stutter as she watched the two San Francisco Homicide detectives approach her desk at a steady pace, Mike being in the lead, Steve a few feet behind.
"You are…surprised, Miss Gifford?"
The credulous question caused the woman to run a nervous hand through her shoulder-length hair, the corners of her rounded cheeks beginning to flush from anxiety.
"I guess, I figured you could use my tip to go around town, ask questions, that sort of stuff. I didn't mean for you to waste your time to see me, gentlemen."
Behind him, Steve opened his mouth to say something, the motion stopped immediately with a brief glance in his general direction.
"Well, you see, Miss Gifford, before we begin following any leads, we need to first establish the legitimacy thereof."
Annunciating each word until his remark almost sounded like a warning, Mike added a feigned smile, his expression lighting up even more when Gifford stood up from behind her cluttered desk, hands on her wide hips, a thin layer of perspiration forming on her forehead and chin.
"Of course, I completely understand, Lieutenant Stone.", she stammered, her nervous eyes going back and forth between both detectives, "I wouldn't want you to do that either. I just…I just saw the image of the leg on Inspector Keller's report the other day and I…I remembered reading a piece about that group and the ehm…the tattoo."
Sharing another brief glance with his partner, Mike nodded unperceptively, then cleared his throat.
"What else do you know about these men? Are they still…doing shows together? What are their names? Where do they live?"
"I gave you all I had, detectives, I swear…", Gifford insisted defensively before taking a step toward Mike, trying to get closer to her objects of interest, "It's my assumption that after all these years, these…men are getting older, perhaps retired from doing these shows altogether. At least I haven't come across any reports of them lately. I have a call into a friend of mine who reported heavily on local artists and culture in the past two decades, hoping to see if we can dig deeper into that."
"We?"
Again, Mike's polite, yet distant approach seemed to do the trick when Gifford shifted nervously, her gaze sinking to the floor.
"I didn't mean it that way, of course. I was merely suggesting that I am trying to dig up some more information for you gentlemen. I know that you are usually short on both, time and patience."
"You must be mistaking us for those ehm…those characters in your stories, Miss Gifford. When it comes to leads to a murder investigation, we have all the time in the world, don't we, Stephen?"
With a slight cock of the head, the young Inspector acknowledged the remark but remained quiet as ordered.
Upon Mike's little stab, she took a step backward, her face turning a shade paler as though she was getting sick from the mixture of excitement and crystal-clear rejection.
And Mike couldn't be happier about the reaction.
"Right…ehm…yes, so like I said, I will let you know as soon as I hear back from my old contact. Do whatever you'd like with the information, detectives."
With a satisfied smile, Mike patted her shoulder.
"We'd like that very much. I look forward to hearing from you soon. Thanks for the help, Miss Gifford."
Not waiting for an answer, the Lieutenant spun around on his heels, heading out to the main foyer with his partner in tow, both detectives remaining quiet until they reached the empty hallway to the elevators once again.
"Like I said earlier, Michael…", Steve muttered beneath a broad grin, "I just don't know why they pay Murchison the big bucks. You're doing all the head work around here…"