I forgot to wish my American readers a Happy President's Day yesterday, please accept my belated good wishes!

Miami. Present day:

"He did what they asked then?" Calleigh asked as she sat in back in her seat and tried to digest the information Agent Collins had been giving her.

"Yes, he did it quite well too. His clueless colleagues at the precinct had no idea what he'd done."

Flashback. New York 1994:

He kept replaying his conversation with the Malucci brothers over and over again in his mind. One of their 'associates' had been implicated in a shooting of a corner store owner and was the police's prime suspect. Most of what Medavoy and Martinez had was circumstantial and now the hunt was on for the murder weapon. Without admitting it outright Frankie had made it obvious that Chaz Petrelli was the shooter and that if found the gun would have his prints on it.

The job seemed easy enough, find the murder weapon before his colleagues did, the trick was to do it without being caught. He sat at his desk pretending to fill in paperwork all the while listening to the conversation between his colleagues.

"I'm telling you, Greg. I know Petrelli's good for this hit; we had tabs on him back in anti-crime. He's a nasty piece of work." James Martinez said, taking a sip of coffee as he sat back down at his desk.

"I hear you but all we've got is a couple of shaky witnesses, we need something solid before the Malucci's 'persuade' them to change their minds."

"We gotta find the gun, and then we'll have him bang to rights."

Sensing the opportunity to interject he got up from his desk and walked over to his colleagues. "How's it going on your shooting, find anything yet?" He asked as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"All we've got is circumstantial, nothing that's going to stick to this guy, John."

"You wanna hand? Andy's off looking at cars with his son, I've not got anything going on." He willed them to take the bait, he knew Martinez hero-worshipped him and used it to his advantage. "You know, James, putting a guy like Petrelli away will really put you on the map here. You'll be making a name for yourself if you get one of the Malucci gang bang to rights."

"You sure, we wouldn't want to put you out." Martinez replied uncertainly.

He smiled at the younger man, "It's fine, I want to help. You got any leads on where we might find the weapon?"

Medavoy jumped in, "We're just waiting on the warrant to search Petrelli's last known address."

"Ok, let me know when it comes through and I'll help you with the search." He walked back to his desk and returned to his paperwork, all the while hating himself for what he was about to do.

Time dragged but by mid-afternoon the warrant for Petrelli's home had arrived, his colleagues had offered him a ride with them but he declined, preferring to spend the journey on his own. "It'll be much easier to hide the gun that way." He shook his head, disgusted in himself for even thinking like that.

Meeting Medavoy and Martinez outside the apartment building he checked his service weapon and put on a bullet-proof vest. He banged on the door, "NYPD, open up. We've got a warrant to search these premises." They were met with silence, he thumped harder on the door this time, "Open up, Petrelli, or we'll kick the door down."

Moments later movement was heard, the three detectives placed their hands on their guns bracing themselves. They were greeted by the sight of the half-dressed and half-asleep Chaz Petrelli. Standing at 6'3 and at least 300 pounds he was a fearsome sight, his shaven head and multitude of tattoos only served to reinforce the impression that he was as mean as he looked. "What do you fairies want?"

Martinez stepped forward holding out the warrant, "We've come to search the premises. Stand back please."

Petrelli's eyes narrowed, "And what if I don't, you three ladies going to make me?"

John stood straighter, trying match heights with Petrelli. He knew his slight build would be no match for the man-mountain in front of him but he bustled his way through anyway. Catching the larger man by surprise he barged his way into the apartment, he turned and smiled at him. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

The other two detectives followed him in as they split up to search the rooms, taking the bedroom he hunted high and low for the murder weapon, checking every conceivable hiding place he could think of. Ten minutes later he came up empty, he let his head drop and forced himself to think where else it could be. His attention was soon caught by shouting coming from the lounge.

"This is a set up," Petrelli shouted, "You planted that gun, it's not mine."

He walked out and saw Martinez grab his suspect's arms and pulled them behind his back to cuff them. "Tell it to the judge, right now you're under arrest."

He didn't hear the rest of what his colleague said as Petrelli was read his rights. He couldn't hear anything above the thumping of his heart pounding through his ears. He hadn't found the weapon before they had, what the hell was he going to do now? Once it was logged into evidence and processed there would be no way to stop Petrelli going down for the murder.

He drove back to the precinct in a panic, wracking his brains for what to do. The Malucci's would not take kindly to him falling at the first hurdle and he had already taken money from them. It didn't matter that he had handed it straight to Collins, Frankie and Benny were expecting him to come good for them, he hated to think what would happen if he didn't.

Sitting at his desk he waited for his colleagues to return with their suspect and the evidence, Petrelli was not the kind of man who would roll over and confess and it gave John a small sense of hope that he could still intervene somehow. As the afternoon wore on Medavoy and Martinez were getting nowhere with their questioning, most of the other detectives had left for the day as evening quickly approached. He sat in wait alone in the squad room, biding his time.

Finally his colleagues stopped their interview for a break, bringing the boxed weapon out with them; Martinez dropped it on his desk and sat down wearily.

He looked across to the younger man, "He's not budging I take it?"

"Nope, just keeps stonewalling us. Once we get that gun checked out I know we're going to find his fingerprints on it."

He stood up and walked over to his colleague's desk, "Why don't you and Greg take a break and get out of here for a little while. Go and grab a coffee or something."

"That'd be great but we can't leave this unattended." Martinez gestured to the gun.

"Don't worry about that, I'm going to be here for another hour or so filling these reports in that Andy's lumbered me with."

"Are you sure?"

Once again he took advantage of the younger man and his inexperience, "Go, James. I've got your back." His colleague smiled gratefully and left the squad room, he left it another couple of minutes just to be safe before carefully removing the semi-automatic pistol from the box and wiping it thoroughly with his handkerchief and then placing it back again.

He sat back at his desk and sighed in relief, it didn't matter that they had the murder weapon now. Without Petrelli's prints it couldn't be linked to the thug or the Malucci's and it looked as though he had just bought his way in to the organisation. He only hoped his friends and God would forgive him if they ever found out what he had done.