I've decided to include in each chapter a brief paragraph dedicated solely to tidbits of information about the field of law enforcement, gleaned from classes I have taken, stories I have been told by officers, and firsthand experience whilst on ride-alongs. I trust that this will not raise ire with any of you – I will cease this practise straightaway if so asked.
Also, in regards to a review that I received concerning my use of apostrophes rather than the requisite quotation marks. My apologies for the stylistic deviance, sir. It has been my habit and practise for the past couple of years to forego quotation marks to denote dialogue, as I have seen done in a number of novels. It's purely a stylistic preference, but I shall endeavour to adjust myself to suit, if so possible.
Stress is a silent hunter amongst law enforcement officers. The natural stress of the job – the long hours, the people on the street, other officers – coupled with issues with family or significant others provide highly fertile environments for stress-related illnesses. Outside of the department, few understand the pressures and stress. Officers tend to stick together, because they know and can sympathise with each other. However, it's often not enough. Many officers turn to alcohol to relieve the pressure of their job from their mind. It's not uncommon for officers who have spent a good many years on the street to finally give in and use their service weapons on themselves. In these cases, it's not uncommon for departments to rule the death "accidental", which allows the family to receive the officer's pension and benefits – these would have been denied otherwise, if the death had been ruled a suicide. Just one of the ways that the Thin Blue Line takes care of its own.
The apartment was dark and silent as she eased open the front door, grateful that it did not creak for once. Her boots thudded mutely on the worn carpet on the floor and the keys dangling from her hand clinked together softly, as though somehow knowing that any sound was too loud. She looked around and sighed. The kitchen was spotless, the dishes long since washed and put away, the counters wiped down. There were no toys, books, or clothes strewn about the living room. Even the carpet had been vacuumed. The still and surprisingly clean apartment seemed alien to her. How much did she miss when she was at work?
A picture on the television drew her attention. It was an image of the family, all smiles and to all appearances, perfectly happy. She wished that was true. Tensions in the apartment were on the rise again as a result of her working overtime for nearly a week straight. An endless cycle of ups and downs that constantly threatened the delicate balance she worked so hard to maintain. In the small part of her mind, the part that always whispered evil things, she wondered if sooner or later, it would fall apart even beyond her ability to control. It was her job. It always was.
With another quiet sigh, she placed her keys on the counter. It was late, and she needed to be up early the next morning. Bosco had asked her to meet him at the coffee shop "for a talk." She knew what he wanted to discuss. Even though she had her own private reservations about his brother's innocence, she knew that Bosco wouldn't give up until the truth hit him full on. He never did.
Fred was lightly snoring, rolled over so that his back was to the door. She watched him sleep and wondered why it was so hard for him to understand her reasons for being a cop. Every time something happened, he always questioned her to the point where she wanted to simply leave and take some time to herself, if only for a couple of hours. The stress of the job was more than enough – she didn't need Fred constantly after her about changing jobs too. She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off her boots, making sure that they were not left in the middle of the floor. There was nothing to say and no one to say it to. Just the silence that was broken only by his gentle snores. Before she lay down herself, she leant over to softly kiss his cheek. For all the arguments they had, she was glad he stayed around. She was ever in need of his support.
"Night." She whispered, and closed her eyes.
Bosco drummed his fingers on the countertop, impatient and irritated. His partner was late. He'd been waiting for almost twenty minutes and was on his third cup of coffee. She was going to owe him if he had another. He shifted in his seat and took a sip of the steaming brew. It was good coffee, and worth paying for, but he wouldn't wait much longer anyway. There were things that needed to be taken care of.
Things that were going to have to wait. His partner hurried past the coffee house window and pushed through the door. She surveyed the interior until she spotted him.
"Sorry I'm late, I got stuck taking the kids to school."
"Fred couldn't do it?"
Faith shook her head. "He was gone when I got up. Must've had to go to work early today."
"Figures."
"Come on, Bosco. He works just as hard as I do."
"If you say so." Bosco took another sip of coffee.
She played with a napkin on the table. "What are you going to do about him?"
"Who, Mikey? Let him do his thing. Maybe he'll lead us to the guys who did this. I bet he knows who they are."
"Probably. He knows enough people like that." Faith flagged down a waitress for some coffee. The two partners sat in silence for a few minutes, each entertaining their own thoughts about the same thing.
"Mikey's back on the street."
"Since this morning?"
"Yeah. I let him sit in lockup overnight to think things over, then paid his bail. He's been out since six."
She looked at him, a trace of worry flickering across her face. "Have you slept at all, Bosco?"
"Enough." He replied, irritated at her concern. "I asked Lieu if I could work a double today. He wants me back at the house in half an hour to pick up O'Shea's beat."
"You want a partner?"
"Why? O'Shea's got a one-man circuit. Two of us walking it is overkill."
Faith leant forward on her elbows, ignoring the mug of coffee the waitress had placed on the table for her. Her brown eyes studied his face closely, making him shift uneasily in his seat.
"What?"
"You're willing to work a double without a partner?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"Bosco, O'Shea's beat is in the middle of drug territory. I know what you're up to, and you're not going alone."
Bosco scowled at her. "Since when? I don't have an 'agenda', if that's what you think. I'm just working a double today." He stood up, his irritation at her getting the best of him. "See you tonight."
Faith watched him stride quickly out and tried not to be angry in return. What was going on that had him so on edge? She got to her feet and went to the counter to pay the tab. As hard-headed and stubborn as Bosco was, she could match him each time.
He was on his way out of the locker room when she arrived at the house. Upon seeing her, he frowned and walked immediately to Swersky's office, clearly hoping to beat her there. Faith lengthened her stride to get to the lieutenant's door ahead of her partner. They got there seconds apart.
"Lieu, I'd like to work with Boscorelli on O'Shea's beat."
"Lieu, would you mind telling Yokas that O'Shea's beat is a one-man route?"
Swersky looked up in surprise at the clash of voices. "What?"
"I'd like to work a double today. I heard that O'Shea's beat was available."
"In part. Boscorelli has already requested it."
"And I don't need anyone hanging over my shoulder this shift, either." Bosco said forcefully, folding his arms.
"Someone's got to keep you out of trouble." Faith shot back.
"Hey. Let's keep the fighting for when we're off-shift, okay? Yokas, I don't have a problem with you working a double today. I've got a couple of guys out anyway. Boscorelli, you and Yokas work together on the night shift, so there's no reason you can't work together on this one. O'Shea is normally assigned as Five-Five Edward Foot, so that will be yours for the day. Go get changed, Yokas. You're running behind."
"Yes sir." She left right away, leaving Bosco to argue the point in vain.
"What is your problem?"
Faith clipped the shoulder mike to her jacket. "Nice to be working with you too. Thanks for taking seven hours out of your day to watch my back."
"I don't need anyone to watch my back. Nothing is going to happen today."
"Sure. Is that why you bailed your brother out?"
Bosco made a face. "You ask too many questions."
"You answer too few questions."
They walked in silence for nearly a block and a half. Faith wondered what he was hoping to see during the shift that they didn't see normally. Maybe he hoped to catch his brother alerting his buddies or something. She didn't know and that bothered her. Not knowing what Bosco might be planning was dangerous, but she couldn't let him work this beat by himself. He was too likely to get himself into trouble without someone there to watch out for him.
"You wanna talk about it?"
"About what?"
"Mikey. Staples. Whatever's going on."
Bosco set his jaw and paused to watch a couple on the other side of the street. "There's nothing to talk about. Mikey's life is his own."
"You keep saying that."
"Someone has to keep him out of trouble."
"Just like someone has to keep you out of trouble."
A slight smile tugged at his mouth. "Point taken."
"I wonder how much hell Staples' brother is going to raise."
"He better not raise any, at least not while I'm workin'."
Faith smiled. "Agreed. We haven't had a quiet shift in how long?"
"Too long."
Their radios crackled to life with alert tones. "Central to Five-Five Edward Foot."
The two partners exchanged frowns. "Looks like this won't be a quiet shift, either." Bosco muttered. "Eddie Foot, go ahead."
"Respond to 10-34 on the corner of West 147th and FDR. Multiple subjects involved. Ten-three?"
"That's right around the corner." Faith said.
"Five-Five Edward Foot, West 147th and FDR." Bosco pulled his hat tighter on his head. "Let's go."
The two officers broke into a run that carried them around the corner and down two blocks. 'Right around the corner' turned out to be a relative term. Faith was out of breath by the time she and Bosco pounded onto the scene. The combatants were still going at it, oblivious to all but where their punches were going. Pausing only a moment to take in the situation, the two officers moved in. Several frantic, blurred moments later, two men were down and a third running as fast as his legs would carry him. Bosco let him go. His attention was focussed on a lean man in green and khaki.
"You must be Staples."
The Marine gave him a sideways, evaluative look. "Yes sir."
"Startin' fights on my shift isn't smart, Marine. I don't like it when hotshots come in and shake things up."
"Fights, sir? This wasn't a fight. This was an intelligence-gathering mission."
Bosco folded his arms. "Looks like a fight, sounds like a fight, smells like a fight. It must be a fight."
"Five-Five Eddie Foot, requesting a bus at this location."
"Ten-four, Eddie Foot."
Faith cuffed one of the men still on the ground. "Sit tight, pal."
The man glared up at her, fingering his bloodied nose. "C'mon, he's the one you should be cuffin'. He tried to kill me!"
"Kill you?" The Marine glanced dismissively at the man. "Son, if I wanted to kill you, it would have been over before you knew I'd grabbed you."
This statement, delivered in a flat, dispassionate tone, caused the man who was its target to lower his eyes and took an interest in the silver handcuffs on his wrists and at the same time, send a chill through Faith. She knew very little about military training, but she had a feeling this Marine was more than capable of doing a great deal of damage with his bare hands. She touched the butt of her gun briefly as she stood up, reassured by its presence. The Marine made her nervous with his air of cool confidence.
"You got into the city awful fast."
Staples shrugged. "I don't like to waste time. Besides, this is family business."
"Family business. Okay." Bosco nodded casually, curling his lip up ever so slightly. "Let me tell you something about family business. My brother's involved in this mess too, and you'd be smart to stay well away from him."
"If he is involved in this, he's fair game."
A dangerous glint came into Bosco's eyes. Faith saw it and stepped forward to be ready to restrain her partner. "Listen here, pal. This is my city, and you play by my rules. You stay away from my brother, and anyone else who peddles out here. Leave 'em to us. This ain't your business."
"I will stay away from nobody who has information about my brother. It's that simple. If you don't want to get hurt, I would suggest you keep your distance." Staples said quietly. "You may be the guys who run things around here, but I doubt you have the stomach to go after these scum the way they deserve."
Bosco trembled, but Faith was there to push him back a step. "Let it go, Bos. The bus is here."
He sneered at the Marine and spun away. "You. Black eye. Get up." He hauled the man to his feet as two paramedics trotted over from their bus.
"How bad are they hurt?"
"They'll live."
The paramedic whose nametag read "Malone" rolled her eyes, checking the man Faith had cuffed. "Things are never dull when you guys are involved."
"This one has a concussion. His eyes aren't tracking."
"Get him into the bus." Malone sighed. "You don't really appreciate a good partner until you have to train a new one."
"What happened to your old partner?"
"Couldn't take the job anymore."
She didn't need to say anything else. Faith stood back whilst Malone led the second man over to the bus.
"I'll just tape this guy's nose, then he's all yours."
"Thanks."
Bosco nodded, watching the Marine carefully as though he expected him to do something unexpected. Staples stood quietly, letting the paramedics go about their work. From the blank expression on his face, it didn't seem like he was even paying attention. Only his eyes moved, taking in every detail around him. Faith shuddered inwardly. He's like a sleeping lion. One wrong move and he'll be all over you.
"Five-Five Edward Foot to Central. Request an RMP to this location for a transport."
"Ten-four, Eddie Foot. Five-Five Charlie en route. ETA five minutes."
Her partner made a face. "Five minutes. Man, that's right! Sully and Davis aren't Charlie this morning. They would have been here already."
"Bosco stop whining."
"What, you don't regret takin' this shift? Damn, I should've stayed in bed." Bosco paced impatiently around the sidewalk, scowling. 'I don't know about this job, sometimes. We try so hard, and it makes no difference at all."
"Take it easy, Bos. It doesn't do any good to stew about it."
"Oh yeah? Great. So I just let everything slide, because it's what's best?" Bosco sneered at the concrete. "That's bull."
Faith bit her lip and turned away. She knew what he was feeling, and what he was leaving unsaid. It was something she wrestled with far too often herself. Each day, at the end of each shift, she wondered if it was worth it. And each time, she told herself that it was, that there was a point, there was a purpose, for wearing the uniform and the badge. It meant something. Something that only she knew, only she could touch and make real. Her own reasons for doing the job.
Five-Five Charlie rolled up to the curb, its red and white lights flashing almost merrily. Two officers she didn't recognise climbed out and approached.
"You got a collar?"
The way the smaller cop said it made it sound as though it was nothing. Just run-of-the-mill, routine arrest. In many ways it was, and in as many others it wasn't.
"Sort of. Marine NCO standing over there started it all. Hasn't given us any trouble. I don't think you'll have a problem with him."
"Uh-huh. Is he secure for transport?"
Faith glanced over at her partner, who was glaring at something across the street. She sighed. "Give me a second."
Staples said nothing as she snapped the cuffs on his wrists. He seemed unperturbed about the whole affair, even as she helped him into the back of the cruiser. The two officers nodded at her, got back into the vehicle, and were off again. She watched the cruiser weave its way into traffic. A strange, fluttering feeling at the back of her mind whispered that this arrest was just the beginning. The beginning of what? The feeling went away, but she remained uneasy. There was something in that Marine's easy compliance that set off alarms inside her head. It was too easy.
She shook the doubts away. On the street, doubts got you into trouble. "Come on, Bosco. We're done here."