"I am glad I wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep."
Mike was surprised by the hoarseness of his voice on that early morning.
At just before 7, the office was still relatively cold, the sunlight not having had enough time yet to warm the building and aid the ailing boilers in the basement. Only a handful of souls had crossed his path between the underground parking garage and the 4th floor of the Hall of Justice Building, few of them aware of the nail-biting tension that was building around their latest case.
"What'd you do with Jeannie? Do you have a uni at your house also?", Steve countered, getting straight to point, spewing what questions and concerns had circled his strained mind all night, that much Mike was sure of.
"As a matter of fact, I do."
Straightening out against his office chair, he waited for his young partner to arrive at his desk, shed out of his overcoat and grab some coffee. But instead of a morning beverage, Steve chose to nervously fidget with the sleeves of his plaid shirt, his busy eyes scanning his inbox for a brief moment before joining him in the inner office.
"I was thinking…", the young Inspector continued as he leaned against the door frame, "What if we bring in Willis' assistant and sweat him a bit. See if he knows what's going on?"
With a faint smile, Mike shook his head and pulled the black reading glasses off his face, before turning the file in front of him around for Steve to see.
"I was thinking…", he said half-mockingly, "That you should take a look at this first before chasing down another rabbit hole."
"What is it?"
The frown on the young Inspector's face turned into surprise as he read through the information provided, leaning in deeper as if to ensure no pertinent detail was missed.
"Those are some of the strangest bank records I've ever seen…"
"Mhm hm."
Giving his partner a few more moments to scan through the information, Mike pursed his lips, his mind already three steps ahead of their current predicament if all worked out to plan.
"How many actresses do you know that spend…", leaning forward to read off his notes, Mike hesitated momentarily, "…that spend four thousand dollars on formaldehyde and another…three-thousand bucks on cold-storage supplies? Another twelve-thousand bucks were withdrawn in cash. That say payment for limb reattachment services to you or what?"
Drawing in a deep breath, Steve put a hand in front of his mouth, processing the breakthrough they'd stumbled across.
"Would they be using the formaldehyde to…to store bodies? That makes no sense, or does it? I mean, you wouldn't be able to reuse the tissue. Were they able to trace exactly where those…supplies were shipped to?"
"I am working on having forensic accounting nail that down as we speak."
"So you're telling me to stay home and be safe and you spent the night doing research, is that what that is?"
The slight pitch in Steve's voice wasn't lost on his partner and Mike raised his hands in a peace offering, then shaking his head.
"Relax. The file was waiting for me here this morning."
Having a hard time snapping out of his overactive brooding still, the young Inspector looked back and forth between the file and his partner, then cocked his head downstairs.
"Is that enough to reel her in for an interview now?"
"That depends on the results from our research into those…transactions. Again, she's an actress. She's done a formidable job lying to us already, she could do the exact same thing if we just bring her in for an interview. I want to have enough to charge her with accessory whether she talks or not because in the end-"
Their conversation was disrupted when a visibly upset Sekulovich crossed the bullpen in a beeline, heading straight for the inner office.
Sensing his attention drift over to the perturbed Sergeant, Steve turned around just as Art appeared by the doorframe.
"Mike…there's been an…incident. They're requesting you and Steve as soon as possible."