"This is theft!"

Aaron Harris had barely made is through the glass walled vestibule, index finger raised, his neck and face a crimson shade, when he began barking at whoever was in his way; neither familiar with the detectives responsible in order to direct his anger, nor caring.

Having expected the outburst, Mike slowly rose from behind his desk to approach the stocky man in his mid-fifties, Steve mirroring the move.

"I have had about all I can take from you city cops running around town thinking you own everything.", Harris continued undisturbed and stopped at Hassejian's desk, causing the Armenian detective to rise to his full height, the silent gesture enough to make the irate man back off and seek out a different target closer to his shape and size.

Reaching Sekulovich, he'd barely had a chance to take a deep breath and open his mouth again when Mike stepped in front of him, so close that it made the slightly shorter man take an uncomfortable step back.

"I believe you are looking for us, Mister Harris. I am Lieutenant Mike Stone with the San Francisco Police Department. This is my partner, Inspector Stephen Keller."

Keeping his eye contact unyielding, Mike crossed his hands in front of his chest, allowing the silence to undermine his suspect's rudeness until Harris calmed down significantly, his eyes going back and forth between both detectives.

"You the guys who stole my money?"

"Nobody stole your money, Mister Harris.", Mike clarified evenly, "Why don't you come into my office. We'd like to ask you a few questions."

"I am a P.I. and have done nothing wrong. What kind of questions are we talking about?"

Upon his uncooperative tone, Steve circled behind the man, using his body language to channel him toward the inner office.

"You'll find out soon enough, Mister Harris."

Letting his growing annoyance with the situation shine through on the edges, Mike gestured toward his desk, quietly sighing in relief when the other man yielded his invite and sat down in one of the guest chairs, impatiently rubbing his palms on his thighs.

"I don't know what kind of game you two are playing here, but I am an honest, hard-working man. You can't strong-arm me just because you don't like other people playing in your sandbox."

Turning around to roll his eyes at his partner, Mike shook his head with a faint smile, then leaned against his window overlooking downtown, waiting for Steve to close the door and find his spot by the file cabinet.

Then, without addressing the other man, he looked over at the young inspector.

"Stephen, does this man's voice match the one you heard on Joe's phone during the…the ehm…threatening phone call?"

"Now, wait a minute…", Harris begun, only to be cut off by Steve.

"Yes, it's the same voice. This is the man who called Joe."

The positive ID made Harris's nervousness spike even more, and he began to break out in a heavy sweat.

"Listen guys, it's not what it seems. That's not…there's been a misunderstanding."

Nodding with a feigned smile, Mike held onto the window ledge a little tighter, working hard to remain quiet and neutral as a case break was imminent.

"We hear that a lot…", he began, then pointed at the thick manila envelope on his desk, containing the cash, "So, who hired you to make threatening phone calls and intimidate people?"

"That was just…I was…I was told the guy was bad news, that he…he needed to be flushed out of the city to keep people safe…"

"And according to your file, you specialize in assault…", Steve added from the sidelines and reached for the R&I file still opened on Mike's desk, "Let's see here…1953…two assault charges for beating up on a waiter and the restaurant owner. 1956, assault on a peace officer because of a parking violat-"

"The guy was a jerk, he had it coming…", Harris justified and leaned back in the guest chair, his eyes traveling to the envelope of cash in front of him.

"Four more assault charges between 1958 and 1969.", Steve continued undisturbed, "So, does this make you to fall guy for these kinds of cases? People can hire you to terrorize fellow citizens? Are you some muscle for hire? Because that's illegal and will revoke your P.I. license."

Steve's sharp words made Harris fall quiet for a moment, his fingers now grasping the fabric of his dress pants in a death grip. Eventually, he drew in a deep breath, lowering his gaze to the floor before speaking up again.

"That's obviously not what I do. And yes, I am well aware of my past. That's why I became a P.I. to begin with. I wanted to make a difference and repair some of the damage I'd caused. Not all of it, especially that jerk who wrote that parking ticket. But most of it."

Straightening back out and walking over to his desk so that he could stand in front of him, Mike shook his head in obvious disbelief.

"Let's forget about the crocodile tears for a moment, Mister Harris. We have some serious allegations brought up here against you for hiring Hendrick Jameson to stalk and intimidate Joe Joplin, and making threatening phone calls under the guise of being Warren Thompson. The only thing stopping me from tossing you into a jail cell and throwing away the key is for you to get talking and tell us who hired you to do this."

Theatrically throwing his hands up in the air, followed by a dreadful groan, Harris shook his head.

"That's the whole thing, fellas. I don't know either."