"What do you mean you invited him?" Healey asked, staring into the defiant eyes of the young inspector.

After a tense beat, Steve blinked and dropped his head slightly. "She drove us to the phone booth that's just down the street from the garage… and she made me call him. She was holding my gun on me and threatening to kill Linda if I didn't cooperate… Linda was still alive then… and I knew she wasn't bluffing. So I told Mike I got a call from a C.I. who had some info that would blow the lid off one of our unsolved cases… and maybe even the whole department… and that I needed him to meet us at Hunter's Point…" He closed his eyes, the overwhelming guilt plainly evident on his face.

"And he believed you?" Haseejian asked softly.

Steve nodded. "He had no reason not to. Before we… we split up, we'd been talking about the… well, the dissatisfaction in the ranks and the chance they were going to go on strike. I guess I made it sound like that's what it was all about." He shrugged helplessly.

"So that's what he's gonna tell us when he wakes up; is that what you're telling us?" Healey's voice was flat and dry, like he was reading a phone book.

After a beat, Steve nodded. "Yeah, that's what he's gonna tell you."

# # # # #

They had gone over everything, from Linda's frantic phone message to Steve driving the LTD into the parking lot. Then they had started back at the beginning to slowly dissect every minute, every second. It was an exhausting procedure but one that had to be done. And it was nowhere near to being over when Haseejian picked up the phone at 9:43 and called Devitt's office.

"We're done for today… Okay." He hung up, glancing at his partner, who was on his feet behind the desk, rolling his sleeves down.

Healey was starting at Steve, who was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. Haseejian resisted the urge to drop a friendly hand onto the obviously shattered inspector's shoulder in support. "Roy's on his way," he explained. "Then we'll figure out what we're gonna do with you."

Steve's head came up sharply. "What do you mean, what you're gonna do with me?"

"Well, we can't let you just walk out of here and go home, and we're not going to arrest you, so…" He shrugged. "We gotta do something."

Steve sat back, shaking his head in frustration. He knew the sergeant was right; he felt that everything that he had told them, everything he remembered, wasn't helping in any way to prove that it was Nicole Sanderson who had committed the heinous acts in that garage in the past twenty-four hours. As far as the law was concerned, with all the physical evidence that had already been compiled, he was their only viable suspect. And he had to be treated as such, even though everyone in the loop seemed to be going out of their way not to do so.

"Listen, ah, does Gerry or anyone from his department know what's going on?"

Haseejian shared a knowing look with Healey, who was shrugging into his suit jacket. "As far as I am aware right now, no. But that could all change tomorrow."

The door opened and Devitt led Olsen into the room. All three occupants were surprised to see the senior captain; it was Healey who voiced it. "Rudy…. We didn't know you were in the building…"

The older man smiled wanly. "I decided to stop by after I dropped Jeannie Stone off at home." He tossed a sympathetic glance in Steve's direction. "I, ah, I wanted to find out what was going on here with, ah, with you guys…"

"How is she?" Steve asked anxiously. "How's Mike?"

Olsen smiled warmly and nodded. "They're both doing okay. He's still out and they've scheduled him for surgery first thing in the morning… for the, ah, the bullet," he said softly, as if trying to downplay the seriousness of the situation, "and she's safe and sound at home. She spend all evening with him. She's, ah, she's okay."

Nodding to himself, Steve looked down at the floor; it was all getting too hard to absorb.

The four men standing in the small office exchanged worried frowns then Devitt cleared his throat. "Ah, Rudy and I have been talking and we think it'd be best if either he or I take Steve home tonight." He looked at the two sergeants. "We're toeing a fine line here as it is… doing this…" he gestured vaguely around the room, "without involving the PBA or the D.A.'s office, so I don't want to piss them off even more by having one of the guys who's doing the interrogation be the one that takes him home for the night. Do you fellas agree?"

Healey shot a glance at his partner then nodded. "Sounds good to me. Norm?"

"Me too."

"Good, then it's settled," Devitt nodded with a small relieved smile.

"I've already called Marie," Olsen growled, "so it's all settled. You're coming home with me, Steve."

The younger man nodded without looking up.

"Ah, what time do you guys want to start up again tomorrow?" he asked the sergeants, who exchanged another glance.

"Eight?" Healey suggested. "We still have a lot to cover and I'd like to get at it while it's still fresh."

"Then I'll have him here for eight." Olsen tapped Steve on the shoulder. "Okay, son, let's get you out of here. And the rest of you, get some sleep too. I have a feeling the next few days are going to be very… disruptive."

# # # # #

Olsen looked across the front seat for the thirtieth time, it seemed. Steve was still staring out the side window; they hadn't exchanged a word since they'd gotten into his Chevy sedan in the parking garage.

"Listen, ah, I know you'd like me to make a detour and stop by the hospital so you can see Mike but, ah, well, we can't chance it, Steve. You know the thin ice we're on, and if we so much as put a toe wrong, like allowing you to see Mike before we've had a chance to interview him about what happened - and even if he is heavily sedated and wouldn't even know we're there - well, you know the prosecutor's would have a field day with that."

Suddenly realizing what he was saying, Olsen sputtered, "Ah, you know what I mean… ah, that's if we can't, well, you know what I mean… god damn it… I didn't mean it like that." He exhaled loudly. "Sorry about that… I'm just… you know… this whole thing has got me rattled too…"

Steve turned slowly from the window and smiled softy. "I know what you meant, Rudy, and I appreciate it. I really do. I'll see Mike when the time is right. I've just got to be patient."

Olsen smiled in gratitude then looked back at the road. "Patient," he echoed with a snort. "That's something I've always had trouble with… just ask my wife."

# # # # #

Precisely at eight, Haseejian closed the door to Olsen's office and Healey started the tape recorder again. They began where they left off, Steve trying desperately to remember every detail, physical or intuitive, that he could recall, hoping that something, some tiny thing would pop into his mind that could prove Nicole Sanderson's presence in that garage.

But the more he remembered, the more the noose around his neck tightened.

They had been talking for a little over an hour when he looked up at the clock on the wall: 9:16. Olsen had told him that Mike's surgery had been scheduled for 8:30; with any luck, he would be in Recovery by now. He wondered how Jeannie was coping; he also knew Rudy Olsen, a man she called 'uncle' and whom she had known most of her life, would be by her side until she told him, gently and affectionately of course, that she wouldn't need him anymore.

There was knock on the door and Haseejian stood to open it, then stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind himself. Steve looked at Healey, who shrugged as he pressed 'Pause' on the tape recorder. A few seconds later, the Armenian sergeant reappeared, his brow furrowed. He closed the door before taking in the two others with a worried frown.

"That was Roy. Jack Leist is in the building."

"Leist? What's that bastard doing here?" Healey demanded, fully realizing it was rhetorical question that couldn't be answered.

All of them were more than just familiar with the muckraking 'investigative journalist', who used innuendo more than facts to push his scandalous stories. And who, when forced to correct an oversight or outright lie, did so in the most self-serving way possible, leaving doubt in the listeners mind as to whether an apology had been made or not. Needless to say, he was not popular within the walls of 850 Bryant Street.

"Do you think he knows what's going on?" Steve asked nervously. He was fully aware of the risks all of them were taking by not involving the D.A.'s office as yet, and if word got out, it would make the case for Steve's innocence, though still a long way from being proved, harder and harder to debunk.

"Listen, ah, Norm," Healey said slowly, frowning so deeply his eyebrows were almost touching, "why don't you pop down to Homicide, talk to a couple of the boys and see if they can, subtly of course, sniff the air and see if anybody in the building knows why Leist is hanging around?"

Haseejian nodded. "Good idea." He left the office.

Healey looked at Steve and took a deep breath. "Look, ah, I don't want to continue this," he gestured at the tape recorder, "with Norm not here, for continuity's sake, but I don't want to waste our time either. I'd like for you to sit with a sketch artist and come up with a composite for this… this new version of Nicole."

Steve was already nodding. "Yeah, I think that's a great idea."

"Good." Healey picked up the phone and dialled. "Yes, hi, this is Dan Healey from Homicide…. Yeah, that's right. Listen, we need a composite done and the sooner the better…

Yeah, I've got the witness here with me now. Are you free?…. Great, that's great. We're in Captain Olsen's office on the -…. That's right… Okay, see you in a few minutes, Marilyn."

# # # # #

If she was surprised to see the witness was Steve, Marilyn didn't show it when Healey let her into the office. Without going into detail, he told her that this was to be kept confidential for the time being, and she assured him that no one would be wiser.

With Healey relinquishing the desk chair so she could have a place to work, Steve began with the most obvious details of Nicole Sanderson's new appearance.

As Marilyn worked, her concentration and skill always impressive to the seasoned detectives, her brow furrowed deeper and deeper. When she was putting the finishing touches on the extremely detailed black-and-white sketch, and almost against her better judgement, she sat back in the chair slightly and looked at both men opposite her.

They waited, realizing she was debating with herself about something. Finally she took a deep breath. "Look, um, I know I shouldn't be telling you this, but under the circumstances… and everyone knows what happened to Lieutenant Stone the other night…" She paused and took another deep breath. "And I know I promised him secrecy but…"

She looked straight at Steve. "I've already a drawn a composite of this woman. Last week. For Mike. He wouldn't give me all the details, but I think it was about that accident that you and he had in Chinatown a few months ago." She pointed at the drawing. "I think this woman had something to do with it."