It's Friday. And that makes me happy. Although I know that tomorrow will be our only weather window to get a lot of stuff done. Oh well. I will see what all I can get published before we get busy over here.
The late night was followed by a brutally early morning that left Mike crankier than he cared to admit.
One too many frightening nightmares had haunted his much-needed sleep, causing the Lieutenant to give up on the restless tossing and turning by 5am sharp and head back to the office in hopes of making headway on their case.
By 9am, the hustle and bustle of the bullpen was back in full swing, as his detectives moved back and forth between desks, made phone calls and interviewed witnesses, the office looking like the inside of a busy beehive.
Enjoying a sip of fresh coffee with extra cream and sugar, Mike let his eyes drift over to his partner, wondering for the umpteenth time what was bugging the young man he'd grown so fond of over the years.
Despite his kind-hearted soul and cheery attitude, he knew that Steve was incredibly determined to keep his private struggles just that, stoically fighting his battles in the safety of solitude for some noble sense of protecting others from his innermost fears and troubles.
Several years of intense partnership taught Mike that sometimes, where words failed to reach the core, a couple bottles of beer in the cozy atmosphere of his living room could get the job done. And the need for just that was beginning to creep up there on his list of things to prioritize.
Regardless thereof, Mike was betting dollars to doughnuts that the sweet smell of Beverly Landau's perfume following the young Inspector everywhere even a few days after her visit to the bullpen had something to do with it.
Moving from one item on his list of things to be concerned about to the next, the Lieutenant glanced over at Kammers who was feverishly digging through martial arts books, bound and determined to find out what possible technique or combinations thereof could have killed Leanne Harrison based on the bruises that had been found on her body.
At this stage in the game, Mike wasn't so much worried about which technique had been used, as who executed the deadly blow that broke the poor woman's neck almost instantly.
Then again, it kept Kammers busy for the time being and with a lack of other leads to follow until they'd visit the martial arts gym later in the day, it was as good as any investigative work.
"Ah, here we go. I've been to this department a time or two before…"
The familiar voice was pulling Mike out of his deep thoughts and he glanced up in time to see Boris Jovanović enter the confines of his office, flanked by Olsen who was smiling ear to ear.
Only a friendly law enforcement versus press meeting to brag about their latest procedure and personnel improvements would put such an unusual expression on the Captain's face.
"како си данас, Boris.", Mike greeted the bald man in his mid-fifties, a staple on Channel Thirteen Evening News for the past two decades, and a man who never let the media agenda define his reporting. It made him a valuable asset to any news network, and a wonderful benefactor when it came to anything being discussed from the side of the police force.
"Ја сам добро. Како си?", Boris answered in Serbian, a broad smile lighting up his otherwise pale features at the rekindling of their professional friendship that had outlasted the many incidents that had the potential to drive police and media apart.
"I am wonderful. It's good to see you again, my friend."
The cordial reply was followed by Mike's invite for the reporter to sit down in his guest chair, Olsen following suit after closing the door behind them.
"It is good to see you too, Lieutenant.", Boris answered with that heavy eastern-European accent and gestured around the office, "I see they finally give you a better office than I have."
"It's all just for show. The nitty gritty and case load are still the same."
The facetious remark wasn't lost on Olsen, who shifted nervously in his chair, then gestured toward the reporter.
"Mister Jovanović is here for the evening segment of Channel Thirteen News, discussing the changes we have made within the different departments of the police force downtown and how it has affected the staffing here at the Hall of Justice Building as well. He'd like to ask a few questions about what our thoughts are on the changes, our expectations, that sort of stuff, Mike. I thought you would be the perfect guy for the job. Sorry about the late notice."
The perfect guy for the job, Mike mused quietly, glancing over at the small note in his inbox that was dropped off by a secretary this morning requesting for him to be around for a meeting at 9:30AM. It had been vague enough to let him know that it wouldn't be the good kind of meeting, but rather the stuffy, brass type meeting that Olsen expertly skipped out of by throwing him under the bus.
"Well, I suppose that depends on the kind of questions, Rudy.", Mike returned sourly and exchanged a quick glance with Boris, who immediately caught on to the underlying tension between both men, "I wasn't involved in that decision-making so I guess I can't comment on the nature of this project or the expected outcome. Perhaps the Mayor, Chief Condon or yourself might be better equipped to handle these requests. After all, I am just here to…protect and serve the public of San Francisco."
Olsen twitched nervously at the flippant comment, one hand kneading the fabric of his dress pants, the other one rubbing his bald head.
"Well, you know what I mean. You're the best when it comes to helping out the press, Mike. We appreciate everything you are doing here, we really do.", the Captain muttered and got back up, before gesturing toward the bullpen, "Feel free to rope Keller or Staff Sergeant Kammers into this as well. It's not often we get the opportunity to shed some positive light on our work here, so let's take full advantage of the situation. Mister Jovanović, as you can see, we have a broad spectrum of cultures, genders and ages present in this department alone. We feel that diversity positively affects our investigative work up here and actively encourage hiring accordingly. Mike, I know Boris and you go way back, so this should be very productive conversation."
Grunting begrudgingly, Mike clenched his teeth and watched Olsen reach for the door knob, before turning around once more.
"The Chief and I look forward to a favorable report tonight. Thanks you so much for your help, Mike. We knew we could count on you."
With that, the Captain left, crossing the distance from Mike's office to the glass walled vestibule in record time, leaving two stunned men behind.
Several tense seconds passed, before Boris cleared his throat uncomfortably, the smile on his thin lips sincere and cordial.
"No worries, Lieutenant. I am not here to take sides about whether women belong on the police force or not. We are two old fashioned guys and share many beliefs. The station simply wants me to put a report together about the increase in women on the police staff and the addition of several sub departments, and how it will affect the tax payers. If we can put our heads together for a half hour, I am sure we can come up with something productive that will make both our bosses happy."