Chapter 6
Although Steve was peripherally aware of the fascinated faces of his colleagues and the more concerned expression from Cheryl as he made his way to Newman's office, it scarcely impacted his consciousness. He was totally focused on the task ahead, knowing what was at stake in the coming confrontation. His brief outburst of violence had been remarkably cathartic and, for the first time in a while, he felt a steady sense of calm, even knowing that he was likely to be facing disciplinary action. If he was lucky, he might escape with a reprimand, but the tongue lashing he would have to endure would still be unpleasant.
Newman was standing on the far side of his desk as Steve entered, and his chilly gaze raked him from head to foot. Steve wasn't expecting to be invited to sit and he remained standing, his gaze fastened on the wall, an inch over Newman's right ear as his Captain started to haul him over the coals.
"I just got a call from John Mills' office," Newman stated bluntly. "He's complaining that you assaulted him. Is there any truth to that?"
"Yes, sir." Steve's reply was simple, without any attempt at self-justification.
He wasn't surprised when Newman exploded in fury. "What the hell were you thinking? You're not a half-assed, wet-behind-the-ears rookie to pull a stunt like that."
"No, sir."
Newman continued in that vein for some time, his language becoming more colorful and abusive, until Steve's monosyllabic replies and lack of reaction seemed to register, and finally the storm of his anger seemed to break up against the solid, unimpressionable figure in front of him.
He regarded Steve in exasperation for a minute, then threw up his arms in resignation. "Oh, sit down, Lieutenant and tell me what really happened."
Steve accepted the invitation and gave an unemotional account, still without trying to excuse his own actions, though he made it clear that Cheryl had attempted to restrain him.
Newman was silent for a few minutes, looking out the window as he pondered Steve's report.
"You really think it's Mills behind all this?" he asked at last.
Steve hadn't been expecting that response, and took a moment to organise his thoughts and impressions of Mills. "He's dirty, I'll bet my life on that, and he certainly seems to hate my father enough."
Newman considered that, then shook his head dismissively. "Why would he risk everything for revenge? It seems pretty weak to me."
"I'd swear that's what it's about," Steve insisted. "This whole thing reeks of revenge. Dad isn't due to give testimony in any case, and he's not involved in anything at work that would justify this."
"Well, now there's a solid lead, Detective Banks can take over this part of the investigation. I have to take you off this case."
"No." Steve's response was immediate, and delivered flatly with the utmost conviction.
Newman thumped the desk with his fist, his voice low and furious. "You're in enough trouble already. Don't make the situation worse with insubordination."
Steve met his angry gaze without flinching, his own composure still intact. The situation was to him straightforward and self-evident. "No, sir. Someone's still trying to kill my father. Officially or unofficially, I'm on this case."
"I should never have allowed you to take this case; you're too emotionally involved. And now you've assaulted a suspect, there's no way I can keep you on it. I'm sure Cheryl will keep you posted on all the developments, but you're to stay away from the investigation or I'll have your badge." Newman glared over the desk at Steve, trying to enforce his authority but, even as he said it, he knew his last statement had been a tactical error.
For the first time, a crack showed in Steve's impassive facade. "You're damn right I'm emotionally involved. There's no way in hell I'm going to sit back and let Tremelo have a free crack at my father. You want my badge, here, take it. It's not worth my father's life, not even close." He held his badge out to the Captain, who made no move to take it.
Newman knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was no bluff. It wouldn't be the first time Steve had surrendered his badge in support of his father, to whom he was unswervingly loyal. His priorities were firmly established, and nothing and nobody could come between them. Newman had realised that their partnership had reached legendary status within his department when he had heard one veteran officer warning a rookie who had questioned Mark's presence at a crime scene in less than polite terms, "Don't mess with the Lieutenant's old man, or he'll come down on you like a starving tiger."
Steve was also the best detective he had, utterly reliable, uncorruptable and with a genuine caring touch for the victims of the crimes he investigated and their families. It didn't hurt that he also had the best closure rate of any cop in the department and a series of commendations to his name.
Their silent battle of wills continued for a minute, with the out-held badge poised between them as the symbol of contention. However, Newman was astute enough to realise that this wasn't a fight he could win.
"Oh, put that back," he said irritably. He walked back to the window to give himself time to think of an effective compromise that would leave them both with their jobs intact.
"Hopefully Mills isn't going to press charges, and, with the provocation offered and your stellar record, I'm sure you will escape with only a reprimand. However, I'm suspending you for a week - with pay - while this incident is investigated. Obviously, you can spend that week how you like... with the exception of assaulting prominent members of the community. I'll make sure your partner keeps you updated with any progress made. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Steve recognized that Newman was giving him all the support he could without officially endorsing his continuing on the case, and he was grateful for the opportunity to pursue it with a bit more freedom.
"Thank you, Captain. I appreciate that," he acknowledged.
"Don't thank me, go somewhere safe and get some sleep. You look like hell, no wonder your judgment is impaired. Send in Detective Banks as you leave."
As he got in his car, Steve headed instinctively for home, needing a safe refuge to think. He didn't even realise his choice of destination until he pulled into the driveway. He hesitated, but finally decided that Tremelo had shown no inclination to come after him and, in the mood he was in, he'd welcome the opportunity if he did.
However, as he entered the house, it suddenly seemed less welcoming than usual, his movements seeming to echo in it's emptiness. He was struck by the realisation that, although he loved this house, it was his father's presence that made it a home.
He tried to shake off his burgeoning sense of depression by going for a run along the beach, the exercise invigorating his body and clearing his mind. After a quick shower, he spent most of the evening alternating between the use of the computer and the telephone, trying to expose Mills' illicit activities.
He fell asleep on the sofa, his gun under a cushion, just before dawn, and was woken a few hours later by the telephone ringing insistently. Rubbing his face, he moved over groggily to answer it, and was, at first, pleasantly surprised to hear the familiar voice on the other end.
"Hi, Steve, it's me. Did I wake you up?"
"It's fine, Dad, I needed to wake up anyway." Suddenly, for no reason he could pin down, a dawning sense of unease prickled his skin, and his voice was sharp with worry as he asked, - "Is something wrong? Are you alright?"
Mark's reply was initially reassuring, and he sounded cheerful. "Actually, I thought you had been trying to call me. I've had three calls in the last hour or so, but no one was on the other end. I thought you might have had trouble getting through."
It took a moment for the words to penetrate Steve's sleep-fogged brain but as they did, the sliver of fear that had taken up residence in his gut turned into a full-blown spike slicing deep into his stomach. He sat bolt upright, trying to control a sense of panic as he realised what Tremelo was doing.
"Jesus! Get out of there, Dad. Tell Adams and Vorderman and get out of the house, NOW!"
