Chapter 4: Talk, Talk, Talk
FBI Headquarter,
Washington, D.C.,
Forensic
3th January 2012, 13:11 p.m.
Doctor Leland Ambert never pitied the dead. He had been a doctor and coroner for 25 years now, and never, not once, had he felt emotionally overwhelmed, or disgusted by the brutality of death. He had seen all forms of death – shot, drowned, strangled, poisoned, stabbed -; he had seen dead children, abused women, tortured men. People he didn't know. Agents he knew. But none of them had ever haunted him at night.
Nevertheless, he hated being the coroner. It was dumb work. Cutting people open, extracting the bullet, finding the cause of death… It was so easy. No challenge.
Yet, special agent Garland refused to let him out of it, so instead of concentrating on his research, he had to spend his precious time with the dead. Garland always wanted the best people for his section and if he had them, he locked them up in a golden cage and swallowed the key.
And that was the reason why Leland felt only one thing when another corpse arrived – frustration. Like now, as he extracted the bullet out of Officer Livingston's skin. At least, this examination had been over fast.
Just as he went to the water basin to wash his hands, the door to the forensic opened.
He looked up. "Agent Teason", he said calmly. He had been the one in charge for her medical examination, which had been no better than his present work. Nothing about her had been special, even if some agents would contradict him on that, considering her looks. Not that beauty caught his eyes. Or mind. He only checked the physical condition, stated she was just a little bit too slender and noted her fit for service. She was like all the others. Alright, the psychological profile had caught him for a moment, but then again, it wasn't as special as he had hoped. There were more agents in this bureau with a difficult, haunting past.
"I just came down to ask if you have already been able to extract the bullet", she said calmly.
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I have. If you had been a little more patient, you wouldn't have needed to come down here", he snarled.
"I apologize", Lauren said, wondering if there was at least one friendly person in this whole building. Except Charlie Stephens.
She watched the grey haired doctor walk over to a little desk, fetching a plastic bag.
"There you go", he said and gave it to her.
"Thank you", she replied. "I assume the shot was deadly?"
"The chances you stand up and walk around after being shot in the head are very low, agent", Ambert said.
"Thanks for your help, doctor", she said with a slight hint of irony in her voice.
"Always a pleasure", he replied, the expression telling he thought exactly the opposite.
FBI Headquarter,
Washington, D.C.,
Agent Norman Jayden's office
3th January 2012, 15:34 p.m.
Normally, Norman was very careful with the ARI. When he didn't use it, he checked if it was still in his pocket at least once in an hour. When he was chasing suspects, he always paid attention not to lose it on the way. But as he took it off now, he almost threw it on the desk.
Shit.
He had just examined the little evidence he had caught at the crime scene – Officer Livingston's file, his cases, the statement of a woman and a man present as the shot had fallen – and it had led him nowhere. Two and an half hour wasted, which meant his only leads were the secretary and the best friend of Officer Cooper, right now.
He sighed and leant back in the chair, his right leg jiggling nervously. This case turned out as a nightmare with nothing but dead ends.
He looked at the watch on the computer. 15.37 p.m. No news from the ballistics, so for the moment, he had nothing to do. He doubted it would be a good idea to visit Kate Fender and Carlos Campillo right after another one of their colleagues had been shot.
Right under his eyes.
Of course he knew that agent Teason was right. He couldn't have hindered it. Nevertheless, it made him feel unworthy, like usual. He blamed himself a lot of times when things went wrong. Real life was just so complicated. It needed so much attention. People were so complicated. He had always had trouble communicating with them, held back by a mistrust he had learnt in his own childhood. He observed people very carefully, trying not to deepen any contacts before he was sure he had figured them out. He realized, of course, that this made him look reserved and probably even arrogant, but he had no means to change his behavior. Whenever he had opened up to somebody, it hadn't ended well. Jamie, for example, had listened to him, replying with so much care, only to make sure he ended in that fucking hospital. She had tried to apologize afterwards. She had wanted him to understand that she had only done it because she had been so worried.
Well, thanks a lot. Sharing 30 days with all these deranged and mentally ill people had really been a blast.
After this, Charlie Stephens had become the only person Jayden trusted, at least most of the time and the only one he told the truth. Half of it.
Sometimes, he wondered why Charlie hadn't already abandoned him as well. Except of one drink in a week, he never went out. He didn't share Charlie's interests for football, or computers, or anything else. Most of the time, they only talked about the work. But still, Charlie called him for lunch break or tried to persuade him to go to an art exhibition. He was the active part in this friendship, so much was for sure.
He sighed and stood up. He couldn't just sit around here. Maybe he should go down to the cafeteria and get himself a coffee. He could have a quick look to the ballistics by doing that, see if the analyze had already given a hint, even if it was just a small one.
He put the ARI in his pocket – he never left it unwatched, not even in his office – and walked down to the cafeteria. On a table on the right sat a group of four agents, each of them drinking a coffee, talking about the weekend. One of them had a look at him as he entered, but just turned to the group again, without greeting him.
He got himself a coffee and wanted to walk out, but hesitated. Probably, he should get one for Lauren, as well. Considering the events of yesterday, she had handled today's cooperation a lot more indifferently than he thought she would. He had already prepared himself for a rocky working relationship with her, but she didn't seem to be begrudging.
He went back to the coffee machine and ordered a second one, knowing he would feel uncomfortable giving it to her. He hoped she wouldn't interpret too much into it.
FBI Headquarter,
Washington, D.C.,
Ballistics
3th January 2012, 15:46 p.m.
Lauren's full concentration was drawn at the computer as Jayden walked in. She had a quick look over her shoulder, then turned back to the computer.
"I told you I'd call you as soon as the analyze is finished", she said neutrally.
"Yeah, I know. I just wanted to check if you already found something. I'm a little bit… stuck."
"Not much", she replied.
He waited for her to continue, but she was fixed on reading something, so he walked up to her, putting the coffee on the table.
"I got you a coffee", he said.
Finally, the woman turned around and looked at him. He tried to read her expression, but effortless. The blue eyes were perfectly blank.
"Thank you", she said. "But I never drink coffee."
"Never?" he asked surprised.
"Never."
He stared at her. "How do you make it through the day?"
"Black tea", she said. "Maybe you should offer it to Charlie. I'm pretty sure he won't refuse." And she turned back at the computer.
He risked a look over the shoulder and furrowed his eyebrow at the Arabian letters. "You can read Arabian?"
"Well, one should know his roots, shouldn't he?" Lauren asked carelessly.
"I thought you had someone South American in your family", he admitted.
"I'm sorry. No Hispanic fire in my veins."
"Israeli?"
"Egypt. My mother was from Egypt", she said absent-minded. "And before you ask, my parents died on a plane crash over Belgium in 1988, when I was ten years old. So please, spare me the condolences."
"I didn't intend to... I mean… I know how this is. Bearing the pity of others for… something like that. My mother died when I was 22."
Wait a minute – did I just really say that? he thought and regretted it immediately.
Lauren looked at him. "I really don't think there's the need to share our life stories, is there?"
"No. No. Of course not", he replied, relieved by her statement.
"Anyway, there's something I can tell you about this bullet right now. It's been shot out of an Arabian rifle, mostly used in the Iran. This sniper has very good contacts and is amazingly flexible. The differences between this rifle and American models are significant." She closed the document on screen and stood up.
"Nevertheless, I would wait for the final report if I was you. Maybe there'll be something else helping you out."
"Yes, of course", he said and took the two coffee cups before he walked out of the door.
FBI Headquarter,
Washington, D.C.,
Section for technical support 1.3,
3th January 2012, 16:22 p.m.
There were days in life when you regretted you had set your feet out of your bed. And this snowy Tuesday was one of them, at least to Charlie. The day had been filled with desperate calls from other employees who had had a problem with their printer, computer, bugs… He had seen his own desk for probably half an hour the whole day, always dashing off to the next crucial technical error. Right now, he was just fetching a back-up cd in his office as Jayden came in.
"Busy?" he asked.
Charlie turned around. "Oh. Hey."
Norman looked at him, holding out the coffee. "Care for one?"
"Wow. Did you really just bring me a coffee? I need to remember this day."
"Obviously, your nine doesn't drink coffee", he replied.
Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to make up for your behavior yesterday?"
"You told me I shouldn't fuck up with ballistics, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did. I'm just surprised you listened to my advice", Charlie said and eventually, found the right CD. "Gotcha. Listen, I'm really out of time at the moment. Maybe we should have a drink tonight? 8 p.m., Rick's bar, like always?"
Jayden shrugged his shoulders. "Fine by me. I don't have a lead to go on, right now."
"Great. I need to hurry. Something's wrong with Garland's computer and I have to prevent him from throwing it out of the window."
FBI Headquarter,
Washington, D.C.,
Agent Norman Jayden's office
3th January 2012, 17:54 p.m.
It had been a long time since Norman Jayden's office had looked so tidied up. After Charlie had practically stormed off, he had gone back. He had thought of doing some research on Arabian rifles, but was pretty sure Lauren had already done that. Not mentioning he knew nothing about rifles. After that, he had searched for something to busy him except the ARI and by that, had decided to sort his paper files (though he never used them) and rearrange everything on his desk so the room would look a little less… messy.
It had been boring, of course, but at least, it had busied him until 17:30 p.m. Without any news from the ballistics, he had finally given up fighting the temptation and had taken the ARI out of his pocket and was throwing the ball at the brick wall for almost half an hour now.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.
"Come in", he said, not bothering to stop the game.
Lauren Teason entered, a sheet of paper in her hand. He threw the ball one last time and caught it, before he took the ARI off. The woman raised an eyebrow. "Well now, that didn't look like work."
He ignored her comment. "You're done?" he asked.
"Yes", she said and walked over, giving him the file. "But I fear you already know everything. Except the bullet, there's nothing special about the shot."
Jayden grimaced. "Great. So we're back at the start."
"I'm going to reread the ballistic reports from Chicago tomorrow, though I doubt it will be any use."
"Well, I guess I have no choice but paying Miss Fender and Officer Campillo a short visit tomorrow", he said.
"Who's that?"
"The only two persons that knew Officer Livingston had a new case. His typist and best friend."
"You think they might know something?" she asked doubtfully.
"Officer Livingston was shot on the same day as he got the case. Don't you think this is rather weird?"
Lauren narrowed him. "You think one of them gave the information to the sniper?"
"Well, it's more likely than assume he watched the precinct over days."
"He watched the building he shot from over days, as well."
"Still. They might be related in this. Corrupt police members are not so unusual, are they?"
"Probably not. But usually, they don't endanger the lives of their colleagues", Lauren replied, her voice edgy. "It happens, sometimes, but only when there's a threat against a family member, or lover, or friend. We all can end up in such a situation."
"I doubt that. As long as you make reasonable choices, it can't happen."
She grinned wryly. "Oh yes, you're Mister Untouchable, are you? Anyways, I'm leaving." And she walked out. Jayden sighed and put the ARI pack in his pocket. Well, there was no reason for him to stay either. He shut down the computer and took his coat.
Rick's bar,
Washington, D.C.,
3th January 2012, 20:05 p.m.
Rick's bar was a small place located near to the city museum of Washington. The owner was a tall, bald headed, passionate motor biker who looked intimidating on first sight, but was actually a very polite fellow, knowing whom of his guests liked small talk and whom rather drank their beer in solemn silence. As Jayden entered the bar, Rick greeted him with a quick wave of his hand, then continued to clean the bar. He searched for Charlie and found him on a table in the lower right corner, a computer magazine in his hands. He still wore the faded blue jeans and the striped shirt.
He walked over to his friend and sat down. Charlie put the magazine away.
"You're late", he stated.
"Five minutes."
"I really don't get it, Jayden. You're always on time in the office, but you're never on time when we meet in the bar. I'd forgive you, if you had spruced yourself up, but obviously, you didn't", he said, frowning at his suit.
"Why would I? I'm not dating Eva Longoria, am I?"
Rick came over to them. "Hey guys. Haven't seen you in a while. Thought you'd abandoned me for one of this fancy new bars in the college district", he said. "What can I get you?"
"A beer, like always, Rick", Charlie said.
"Vodka", Jayden added.
Rick nodded and went back behind the bar.
Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Bad day?"
"You didn't hear it?" his friend asked back.
"All I heard today were curses over computers, printers and whatever."
"Well, I was at the police department, to ask the captain some questions. And just as I was about to leave, another officer was shot, right underneath my eyes. He was standing only meters away from me."
"Are you serious?" Charlie asked, eyes wide open.
"Yeah."
Rick brought the drinks and both of them took a sip.
"Man, you got a specific rest-life insurance policy, don't you?"
"He didn't shoot at me. Though Lauren Teason gave me the great advice to watch my back from now on."
"You told her that was useless, did you? You're too good in finding trouble."
"Hey, I'd be glad without it. It just always finds me."
Charlie looked at him doubtfully. "So, Lauren was at the crime scene, too?"
"Of course she was."
"And? Did she kick your ass for yesterday?"
Jayden shook his head. "No. Actually, I doubt she mattered about it. She seems very… indifferent."
"Or maybe, she's nicer than you thought."
He shrugged his shoulders. "She's good in her work. That's all that matters to me."
"Yes, of course", Charlie frowned at him. "Coming back to the dating… How many chicks did you hook up after your sudden fame?"
"I'm not a movie star, Charlie", he replied unnerved.
"You saved a kid. Don't tell me this doesn't work for women."
"Probably it does, but I didn't want to spoil women's romantic dream of Federal agents. Besides, I didn't want to read an article in the press discussing my pants."
Charlie grinned. "You know, most agents wouldn't have given a damn."
"Yeah, but I do. I don't think this is the perfect job for a long lasting relationship. I just wouldn't have the time for a girlfriend."
"Not mentioning the complication with the ARI and the Triptocaine. You couldn't hide that from a woman."
"Can't you leave this topic for once?" he asked.
"I'm just worried about you. I mean, you don't want to end up in that hospital again, do you?"
"No! That's why I stopped using the Triptocaine", he said.
It was a lie, of course. He had used one dose this morning, for the test shooting. But it had been an exception.
"You could stop with the ARI, the same. And don't tell me you need it to solve the cases. You're clever, Jayden. I mean, you got all the passed exams as a proof."
"There are a lot of people who pass exams, Charlie", he said evadingly.
"Oh, come on. I know why you're so drawn to these god damn glasses. Because you feel like, as long as you use them, you can't fail. But it's not so bad to fail sometimes. It gives you the possibility to rethink your actions and goals."
Jayden shook his head. "Charlie, we've talked about this a hundred times. You just don't understand. You can't understand. I told you I'm more careful using it. Can't you just leave it by that?"
Slowly, Charlie nodded. "Alright. But I still think you should call Jamie back. You punish her too hard. And she loves you so much."
"I need more time."
"It's been over a year now! She's really unhappy."
His friend looked at him. "You talked to her?"
"Well, she called me when you were in your holidays. I couldn't just hang up."
"Oh, great. Now she's already spying after me?"
"God damn it, she misses you! She's really, really sorry."
Jayden emptied his glass and laid the money on the table.
"Well, she should have thought about it before she betrayed me", he said angrily and stood up.
"Where are you going?"
"Home. This conversation is busting my balls."
Charlie watched him leave and took a deep breath, shaking his head.
A/N: I think it's time to lift the secret about Jamie, don't you agree?
