The bullpen had turned into a manic frenzy by the time Steve set foot through the glass-walled vestibule, noticing an assortment of Sergeants moving from one desk to the next, talking to fellow detectives about case files laid out in front of them, the Telex machine creaking away angrily, both the water cooler and coffee machine seeing heavy use.
He paused a moment to take a deep breath, trying to clear his mind and prioritize their needs to continue the investigation, then slowly headed for his desk.
The first call would go to R&I, the second one to Vice, the third one to Bunko, just to cover all avenues. A forth one would be reserved for Clarence Hoby, his longtime friend and stoolie, trying to cross reference the names they'd been given with the local culture scene on the west side of town.
Once an artist, always an artist.
It was a gut feeling that wouldn't go away no matter how many times he rationalized that their two men would be well into their sixties or older by now.
But still.
"Oh, I see young Inspector Hicks has arrived for duty. How do you smell so good all the time? No wonder the women are after you incessantly. That's enough aftershave to raise even my low dopamine levels."
Lenny's head appeared from behind the beam near Tanner's desk, a broad grin on his face that Steve didn't bother to return. Instead, he took off his beige overcoat and slid the .38 into the top right-hand drawer at his desk, trying to stifle a disappointing grunt when a certain set of footsteps approached his position.
"What's the matter? You don't appreciate your newfound celebrity status anymore? Everyone else here seems keen to read the new story due to come out Sunday. They're sitting here with baited breath wondering if Graham will tell Hicks about his dream and the ensuing struggles or if they'll just return to duty as if nothing ever happened. It's quite…the emotional and moral conflict Gifford has created and she's done a concerningly fine job profiling you two."
"Lenny…", Steve sighed and pushed past the Psychiatrist to head for the coffee machine, skillfully avoiding the obvious prying into his level of annoyance with the issue cleverly disguised in fake lightheartedness.
Burying questions about their mental well-being in casual conversations much like a trojan horse had been a staple for the Psychiatrist ever since their line of work interwove more frequently than ever before; making the need for an on-site counselor for the Homicide Department obvious in the not too distant future.
At least for the investigative part of things, as far as Steve was concerned.
Lenny on the other hand deemed it necessary to worry about saving the saviors on more than one occasion as well, a caring albeit annoying habit that brought the Psychiatrist a lot closer to his innermost fears and struggles than Steve cared to admit.
Definitely so in this case.
"Tell me this isn't on your mind and I'll call you an outright liar…", Lenny challenged and crossed his arms over his chest, "The question is, how far is this gonna go before somebody pulls the plug? You know, between her distorted perceptions and social paranoia, she might use you two to numb her anxiety, kind of feed off your relationship to soothe her Schizotypal personality disorder, calm those extreme emotions of being out of control, fearful, unable to sleep in this make-believe world that she's created to depict your partnership with the Lieutenant…this is going to turn into a vicious cycle in the worst way possible if you guys don't stop it. We're well beyond the point of…of admiration and have entered the area of pathological behavior that can be extremely harmful, to her…and you guys."
"We already told you that our hands are tied.", Steve hissed as he poured himself some coffee, "And why are you here anyways?"
"Hassejian needed help with their floater case. And trying to aggravate me in order to push me away doesn't help, Inspector. Never has and never will."
The unnerving calmness in Lenny's words served to only annoy him further and Steve snorted, before heading back to his desk, taking his time to drink a couple sips of coffee to see if it would aggravate the Psychiatrist to no avail.
"So, what do you want?", he countered bluntly and sat back down at his desk, hoping to get his pressing research started.
"I want to make sure that you two keep your cool under the circumstances. The stress stemming from a stalker situation such as this cannot be underestimated. Until this…this obsession of hers ends or she gets herself indicted, you two will keep facing these uncomfortable encounters, something I am not too thrilled about."
"Don't worry, we got it under control. Matter of fact we just came from her office…"
His words said in feigned indifference caused Lenny to freeze in his spot, then lean in closer as if to question what he'd just heard.
"Why in the world did you enter the lion's den?"
"Because…she sent us a lead to our current case. Seems like she drew a connection to the leg found up at Point Reyes. We wanted to make sure that the lead was…legitimate. Mike played around with her a bit, made her pretty uncomfortable, you know how he gets during an interview. I'd wager she's going to think twice now whether or not she will continue this…this charade."
"I hope you're right, Stephen…", Lenny mumbled and straightened back out, his eyes drifting over the bullpen as his hands tapped a nervous rhythm against the young Inspector's desk, "Because if that plan backfires, you guys may have just unwittingly opened Pandora's Box."