That look on Steve's ashen face had given it away the moment he reentered the busy bullpen, tense shoulders pulled back just a little, troubled eyes lowered to the ground in silent contemplation, his blank expression saying more than words ever could.
Sighing in defeat, Mike got up from his chair, having just returned from spending the last two hours participating in a conference with the Mayor, Chief of Police, Rudy Olsen and Staff Seargent Ben Andrews from Patrols. It was the Mayor's plan to hold a public memorial for the victims of the mass shooting, but sources off the streets had warned of possible attacks from religious fanatics opposing the gay movement, or even worse, a return of the mass shooter.
Midway through the meeting, it had become quite apparent to Mike that the mass hysteria caused by the media had ultimately reached the walls of the Hall of Justice building as well- and with it, the Mayor's office.
After countless arguments back and forth to come up with a public protection plan during the service that was scheduled to be held at Grace Cathedral on California later this week, they had come up with a handful of options to keep all guests safe, while allowing everybody to come together and grieve the victims.
Mike had begrudged that the topic had to be brought up to begin with, and felt a distinct sense of helplessness at the slow progress of their investigation. Even worse, his thoughts had drifted toward the direction Steve steered at, and the possibility that the person responsible for the senseless bloodshed had been walking amongst them all along, a true wolf in sheep's clothing.
Both partners met by his doorframe, Steve somberly quiet, as he held onto the file in his hand with a death grip.
Lacking the patience to wait for the young Inspector to come up with the right words to soothe a situation that had already caused enough heartache, Mike cleared his throat, then gestured toward the file.
"Something tells me I won't like what's in there."
With a rushed headshake, Steve brushed past him, put the file in the middle of the Lieutenant's desk, then walked over to the window overlooking downtown, both hands resting on the framework as he leaned forward, then dropped his chin to his chest.
"I had the guys from forensic accounting double check some of these figures for me, but it seems that there were two large withdrawals made from Riley's private account over the last couple of weeks. The first one five days before the shooting in the amount of fifteen thousand dollars…the second one, another fifteen thousand dollars, was withdrawn a day after the attack. Cash payouts, both times."
With a disappointment sigh, Mike joined his partner by the large window pane, eyes drifting across San Francisco, as anger and grave disappointment clouded his senses.
"Did you ehm…did you try to get a hold of the bank to see if there was any other explanation for this?"
With an obedient nod, Steve turned around to lean against the window sill, moving close enough to Mike that their shoulders almost touched.
"That lead came back inconclusive. The teller said that he noticed nothing out of the extraordinary about the request, pointing out that Riley had the money to back it up and called a day earlier to make sure the cash was available. He said that they have several large customers, so the transaction didn't raise any eyebrows."
With his voice a mere whisper, and filled with regret, Steve turned toward his partner, then placed a gentle hand on his elbow.
"Did you know that Riley owns almost a quarter million dollars? That's without the restaurant. Some of the income we checked out came from overseas accounts. These are all sponsors for his campaign movement for equal rights, from all over the world. I…I guess I thought he was doing these protests because of his sexual orientation and because he believed into the mission out of the goodness of his heart, but it seems that in the end…he allowed himself to become the political tool he accused others of being."
"And now possibly a murder suspect too.", Mike grunted in frustration, then shook his head, "Just when you think you know a guy."
"We don't have proof of his guilt yet, just circumstantial evidence. But there are a few questions he better have a good answer for."
"Yeah…you're right, Budyboy…"
Turning around, Mike stretched his neck to peek around the corner, hoping to see if Forester had returned, then checked his wristwatch.
"Listen eh…. Lenny's profiles came back this morning and he seems to think that a couple of our potential killers are a flight risk and would travel under an alternate ID, so the Captain went down to SFO to check flight logs and camera footage against our shooting suspects. In the meantime, let's head over to Riley's place and rattle his cage a bit. Hopefully by the time we all return, we're going to have our answers…one way or another."