AN: **Warning-Like I warned in the beginning, the use of dergatory words and racist connotations will be featured throughout this story.
III. Comeuppance
October 1961 Kansas City, Kansas
Yvonne pushed play on the juke box as she turned around and grinned, "Come on Floyd Show me your dance moves."
Floyd shook his head "Sorry vonnie I don't dance."
"Nope I'm not buying that." Yvonne replied as she pulled him from the bar stool.
"Now put your hands on my waist." Yvonne instructed as she placed her hands on Floyds shoulder.
"If I step on your toes it's your own fault." Floyd pouted.
Yvonne laughed, "You're so adorable when you pout like a little boy. Now shut up and listen to the music and gently sway."
*'This magic moment…so different and so new was like any other, until I kissed you and then it happened it took me by surprise… I knew that you felt it too by the look in your eyes…'
Floyd felt his cheeks burn as he listened to the lyrics of the songs as they swayed slowly to the rhythmic beat.
*'..Sweeter than wine…softer than the summer night everything I want I have…whenever I hold you tight, this magic moment… while you lips are close to mine will last forever…forever til the end of time..'
Floyd held her closer as the locked eyes and stopped moving, he gently brushed his thumb across her cheekbone.
*'Oh...Magic moment...Magic moment...Magic moment...'
Floyd felt his eyes drift close as their lips touched, losing himself in the moment before a loud crash caused them to jump apart.
Floyd whipped his head around seeing the brick that had been tossed through the shop window, he looked up he saw Ronnie's truck idling outside. Without thinking he stormed out the shop just in time to see Ronnie's truck speed off and down the street.
Floyd angrily stormed back into the dinner as he saw Yvonne, with tears in her eyes, holding the brick that had been tossed through the window.
"Vonnie I…"Floyd started before he was interrupted.
"It's fine Floyd, let me just get a broom and clean it up." Yvonne waved him off as she sat the brick on the counter before hurrying off to the broom closet.
Floyd rubbed his forehead as he picked up the brick getting ready to toss it in the trash, stopping as his eyes caught sight of the words scribbled on all sides of the brick, his grip becoming tighter as he read the words written in black marker 'NIGGER LOVERS BURN'
Present Day New York
Ronald sat in his office as he looking out his window at the view of the city, before his eyes landed on the article about the Lucas's shooting yesterday.
He was drawn out of his silent contemplation as a knock on the door.
"Enter!" Ronald replied as he watched his office door open and shut.
"You wanted to see me." Simmons asked as he stood in front of the commissioners' desk.
"Did you figure out who's on Lucas Cavanaugh's case and are they in HRs pocket?" Ronald commanded.
"One is." Simmons replied.
Ronald shook his head leaning back in his chair "And the other one? Are they going to be a problem?"
"It's Detective Carter." Simmons replied nonchalantly.
Ronald chuckled sarcastically "Of course it is. Why the hell isn't she in the ground yet?"
"Certain complications prevent us from taking her out." Simmons stated stiffly.
"You mean her little pussy wiped vigilante, the cunts probably screwing him…this problem would have already been solved if your boss did things the old fashion way." Middleton injected.
"And what way is that Sir?" Simmons questioned keeping his irritation in check.
"Dirve-bys, muggings, car bombs, home invasions, and a million other ways a person could end up dead in this great city," Middleton retorted "but you know what it doesn't matter, the little bitch is good at her job, make sure the name Floyd Saint-Vincent finds its way onto her and her partners desk." Ronald ordered out dismissing Simmons with a wave.
Simmons turned on his heel and made his way out of the commissioner's office letting an irritated sneer mare his face as he pulled out his phone, which had been on the entire time. "Sir did you get all that? What do you want me to do?"
"Stay the course for now, do as he says get the name onto the detective's desk." Quinn replied back over the phone.
"And what about Carter and her sharp shooting personal shadow." Simmons asked.
"They're not our concern at the moment…but should things fall through and the Ronald becomes a liability make sure you send him off…the old fashion way." Quinn chuckled before hanging up.
"What the hell is this?" Shaw thought to herself as she scrunched her eyebrows together and stared at the poorly done drawling, "Reese this is officially a terrible witness sketch."
"I have to agree with Ms. Shaw, Mr. Reese this is not much to go on." Harold concurred as he tilted his head staring at the profile of what was supposed to be a man.
"I'm a highly trained former CIA operative with a plethora of uniquely honed skills to keep me alive in hostile situations,…forgive me if I didn't get around to taking an art class." Reese gritted out as he looked at his poor attempt at a composite sketch of the man he saw on the subway.
"Clearly," Shaw snorted out.
"Harold shook his head we'll the character sketch aside I've done some digging into the police commissioner and found an interesting connection." Harold added before his children started arguing again.
"What's that Shaw." asked as they all huddled around Finch's computer desk.
"Middleton and Cavanaugh are childhood friends they both grew up in the small town of Greenwood outside of Kansas City, they went to the same high school and college before they both moved to New York in Cavanaugh in 1972.
"When Cavanaugh was talking to the man on the phone, he was begging about something being an accident and that no one was supposed to get hurt, so maybe this whole thing is revenge for something they did in the past," John theorized.
"Yes I thought along similar lines but I haven't been able to find any accident that they were involved in, both their records are clean." Harold commented.
"Maybe not everything," Shaw added in.
"What do you mean Shaw," John asked.
"Well look at them," Shaw gesture to the pictures, "there old as hell and from a small ass town in Kansas who's to say that that all their records or arrest reports are electronically filed."
"So how do we get copies of police reports that may not be in an electronic database?" John questioned out loud.
"We don't Mr. Reese," Harold began as he picked up his phone, "but we do know someone who can."
Joss sat at her desk as Fusco stood over her shoulder as they both looked at the photo that Finch faxed over of the man John had seen fleeing the scene.
"What the hell is that?" Fusco asked looking at the terrible looking sketch.
"I think it's the man John saw on the subway," Joss titled her head, "at least I think it's a man."
They were interrupted from their viewing session as Joss's phone rang, seeing the caller ID she picked up after the first ring.
"Finch what's this sketch supposed to be of? How am I supposed to catch anyone with this? It looks like a four year old drew it." Joss blurted out frustrated before a thought suddenly crossed her mind "Please tell me you guys didn't kidnap another child again."
Shaw snorted trying to hid her laugh and John pursed his lips.
Harold cleared his throat ignoring John agitated look "of course not detective it's a rough sketch of the man John saw on the subway."
"You telling me that wonder boy drew this?" Fusco questioned as he leaned in "rough is right, they didn't teach him how to draw at the international man of mystery academy?" Fusco added with a laugh.
John leaned forward taking Harold's phone "No Lionel I was too busy learning how to gouge people's eyes out with paper clips."
"Harold yanked his phone back "Anyway detectives I was wondering if we could enlist your services in a lead we stumbled upon."
"Depends?" Joss began, "is that favor legal"
"Yes detective I was just wondering if it were possible that an incident or police report to not show up on a background check?" Harold inquired.
"Yeah it's possible it depends on the size of the department and if all there records have been digitized. I can tell you now that my department alone has a backlog of cold case that could file a storage shed that are waiting to be input into the system." Joss explained.
"Just out of curiosity how would one go about obtaining a copy of a report or file that may not be digitized." Harold asked slightly.
"You can file the proper inter-departmental paper work, which could take up to 6 months or make a personal visit to the department that has the hard copy of the records….what are you up to Finch I can hear you scheming." Joss asked narrowing her eyes at her computer screen wondering if he hijacked her computer again.
Harold smiled "I have no clue what you're talking about detective, but there is another matter I need looked into. I was wondering if the names Jimmy, Bobby or Greenwood mean anything to you."
Joss sat up and looked at Fusco before hunching over the phone "So was our lead from your doing?... What did I say about adding things to my cases without me knowing…this is exactly how court cases fall apart when the defense suggest that the police use bad evidence."
Confused Harold looked to John and Sameen equally confused faces, "I beg your pardon Detective I don't follow?"
"Really so you guys didn't slip a name into my case file that just so happens to be tied to all three of those names." Joss questioned annoyed.
"I can assure you detective we didn't…we just recently stumbled upon those names today." Harold tried to explain
Joss sat back in her chair "So you had nothing to do with putting the name Floyd Saint-Vincent on my desk?"
Harold, John and Sameen all stiffened at the mentioned of the name Floyd.
"I can assure you detective we had nothing to do with that. Who is Floyd Saint-Vincent?" Harold asked concerned.
Joss looked down at the open file on her desk. "He's an ex con who just got done doing a fifty-one year stint up in Rikers."
"Damn fifty-one years, what the hell did he do?" Shaw asked.
"He was convicted of second degree murder, felony assault in the 1st degree,2nd degree trespassing, not to mention getting a couple of months tacked on to his sentence for altercations in the prison yard. Joss summed up reading Floyds file.
"Oh my!" Harold replied.
"The 2nd degree murder charge was for a man named Robert Kendale, also known as 'Bobby' to his friends, and it gets better Lucas Cavanaugh, Robert Kendale, and James Bradford were all born and raised in the same small town of Greenwood Kansas…..So how did you all come about your information?" Joss added on.
John leaned in "Joss who's James Bradford
Joss rolled her eyes as they ignored her question "He's the man that was killed in his apartment by a 'man in a suit', "she sighed and rubbed her eyes, "look I don't know what you three are up to… but I know Floyd Saint-Vincent is in the middle of it and is probably responsible for two homicides,….which means it's my job to handle… unless there's something else your leaving out that I need to know."
"I would never lie to you Detective" John smiled.
Joss pursed her lips "John I swear to god I will hunt you down and lock up in my basement if the man in the suit goes anywhere near Vincent!"
"I promise the man in the suit won't bother Vincent," John replied with a gleeful smirk on his face, "but Joss we really do need to set aside some time to talk about this fetish you have for wanting to restrain me."
Harold pinched the bridge of his nose as the Detective abruptly hung up the phone "you know I'm not looking forward to the day when the detective calls me to help her bury your body when she gets feed up with you."
"I am," Shaw replied deadpan
"It might be sooner than you think Finch, pull up Floyd s address" John asked.
Harold narrowed his eyes "You promised the detective you'd stay away."
"No, I do believe what I said was the man in the suit wouldn't bother Vincent," John replied digging into his coat pocket pulling out two badges, tossing one to Shaw. "I never said Detective Stills or Marshall Jennings wouldn't show up."
"The detective is going to kill you." Harold shook his head as he looked up Floyd s address.
"She's went to law school she appreciate the word play" John smirked as he Shaw headed out the door.
Harold looked down at the dog sitting at his feet "I certainly hope you haven't become too attached to Mr. Reese, Bear ."
AN *This Magic Moment by The Drifters- recorded 1958