10: The Pot Simmers

The sign of intelligence is that you are constantly wondering.
Idiots are always dead sure about every damn
thing they are doing in their life.

Jaggi Vasudev

Em glanced at Doug before clicking her microphone. “Is everyone ready?”

“We’ve established a perimeter, but like you suggested, we’re keeping our distance so the suspects won’t spot us. My partner and I are at either end of the block.”

“We’ve got the back of the house covered. We’re sitting three houses back.”

“This is Thomas in your alternate car; I’m by the side of the road a block away.”

Satisfied, Em touched her earpiece. “Mike, we’re set. How are you?”

“Another second ... OK, we’ve been given the all-clear, Roger’s making the call.”

“Are you sure he won’t warn the suspect off?”

“No, we’ve got a plain-clothed officer babysitting him. We aren’t recording it, but Roger’s aware he’ll be in a world of hurt if he screws this up. If so, we’ll leak what he did to the press. No one would trust him as a journalist again. Not only would he be abandoning his ideals, but he’d betray both his source and us to benefit someone of questionable intent. The cost is too high for him to play games.”

“You realize, we’ll have to lie during the trial about how we discovered him.”

Mike sighed. “Yeah, that bugs me, but considering what’s at stake, and how everyone comes off looking better, I’m not overly worried. However, if anyone admits what we did, everything falls apart.”

Em glanced at the house. “You realize this would be easier if we just tapped his phone.”

“It would, but it’s riskier. If we went for the wiretap, the defense team would immediately question our authority to tape innocent third parties. The entire case would be tossed. It would also be difficult sweet-talking a judge into it. However, we have the next best thing. We’re tracking the phones in his house, both his house phone and his mobile. We won’t know what’s said, but we’ll track who he calls and where they are.”

Em leaned back in her seat, her arm resting on the console. “You’re the boss.” She monitored the front of the building as the team waited. They weren’t even sure anyone was home. The lights were on and music was playing, but they hadn’t observed movement inside the house.

Doug grunted beside her, sipping his coffee, not speaking until he put it down. “This is likely to take a while. They’ll argue over the phone about why Roger won’t defend him, and he’ll rant and rave. After that, he’ll run around the house, trying to figure out what to do. Once he calms down, he’ll formulate a plan. If we’re lucky, he’ll take a drink or two to relax. When he devises a strategy, he’ll make the call. After he informs his connection, he’ll dig the evidence out of wherever it’s hidden and bundle it up. We won’t see his furry little face for at least another hour.”

She patted the folded paper next to her. “That’s why I brought today’s New York Times crossword. It takes me hours before I give up and start entering nonsense.”

Doug rearranged himself in the passenger seat, leaning against the door and resting his upper thigh on the console his partner abandoned. “So how’d your date with the commissioner’s gal pal go?”

Em frowned. “It wasn’t a date.”

“But you were pretending it was, so you were both openly flirting. She’s certainly attractive. You put all the elements together and the gears start turning on their own.”

“There are no cogs cranking here. My love life doesn’t run on city time. I keep it strictly personal. You straights might be able to chase coworkers and get away with it. If a lesbian does, everyone talks and shakes their heads. Once that happened, they’ll assume I slept my way to the top. They’ll resent me for having the same advantages everyone else uses. It’s just not worth it.”

Doug brandished his cup, making a point. “You already have an edge, being the commissioner’s trusted go-to source.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t buy the position with sexual favors. He chose me because he trusts me to dig for the right answers.”

“Or he suspects you’re easy to manipulate. Say by insinuating that, as a woman, you’re liable to act a certain way. Knowing you, that’s guaranteed to make you do the exact opposite. You think you’re clever, but sometimes you’re quite predictable.”

Em lifted her cup. “You can only deal with what you’re aware of. I do the best I can. If I’ve got holes in my armor I can’t stop critters from digging under my skin.”

Doug raised his own mug in a return toast. “Spoken like someone who’s scratched many an itch.”

“Call’s made,” Mike’s voice announced in both their ears. Neither bothered to acknowledge it.

“So how’d the date go?” Doug pressed.

“Damn, I was hoping you’d forget the question.”

“That’s why I make a good detective. I’m bull-headed and persistent. You might as well answer. You know I won’t quit until you do.”

Em shrugged. “We were putting on a play, but she was quick and the flirting seemed real enough. She thinks fast and makes direct eye contact. As you said, she’s cute as a button.”

“Don’t get me started on button analogies. You know where I’ll take it.”

“Point taken,” she acknowledged. “Still, as interesting as she is, we’re two different beasts. She’s a girlie-girl while I’m a tom boy.”

“A lipstick lesbian and a butch dyke,” Doug offered.

Em frowned but nodded. “We don’t appreciate those terms, but we’re in separate worlds and mindsets. She’s into dress-up. I’m into physical activity and winning.”

“Don’t discount her competitive drive. If she suspects you’re worth the effort, she may give a good chase.”

Growing bored, Em picked up the newspaper and pulled the pen from behind her ear. “She might, but it doesn’t mean I’ll be receptive. The heart wants what it wants.”

“Ah, but remember the old saying, opposites attract. Take us. We’re as dissimilar as we can get. A diminutive Chinese-American married to a Puerto-Rican and a lesbian who could out wrestle me without breaking a sweat. Yet we make perfect partners.”

“Look who’s talking. You’re about the least stereotypical Asian I’ve met. You have no accent, you don’t defer and you can bully a perp with the best of ‘em.”

Doug laughed. “Yeah, but you should see me around my family. I’m completely different.”

Em turned and studied him. “I don’t buy that for a minute. We each play the tasks we’re assigned, but we also internalize those roles. If we’re the youngest, we become spoiled just to fit everyone’s expectations. It’s easier fitting in. Everyone adapts to individual social settings, but you can’t change that much.”

She took a sip of coffee. “Except for con-men. In their case, their portrayal is the con, thus they’re always playing that part. That’s why they blend into each character they play. They’re not acting a role. They’ve become the con-man, even when they’re with family, lovers or fellow criminals.”

“Besides, if you were perfect, you wouldn’t pester me with this inane chit-chat.”

“Hey, what else are we going to do waiting for the rats to flee their nest?”

Em held her paper aloft. “Finish my crossword?”

Doug laughed. “And how many of those have you finished in all these years? You put in a valiant effort, but you don’t have the spare time they require.”

“We’ve got a lead on the suspect’s outgoing phone call,” Mike reported. “It was never answered. It rang five times before he hung up.”

Em touched her ear again. “Did we trace it to a location?”

“They’re working on it. We have a number, but it’s a burner phone, where the owner buys a preset number of minutes.”

“Figures, that’s what I would have done.”

“That’s what any officer would do,” Doug said. She shot him a scowl, but he ignored it.

“Ah, we’re getting the location from the cell towers. Dang! It’s in Washington. Since it’s out of state, it’s taking longer to access the information. Wait a minute while they zero in.”

Em tossed her crossword on the seat by Doug’s leg. There was no way she could concentrate on it now. Doug tapped the side of his cup while his partner gritted her teeth and glared at him again.

“They’re triangulating the signal. It’s moving, it’s clearly a mobile phone. It’s heading away from Dulles Airport towards the city. Given the time of day and length of time the call lasted, we can’t pinpoint a particular car. Even if we can get decent video footage, it might be any of a hundred different cars.”

Em sighed, banging her head on the steering wheel before lifting it again. “Well, at least we can compare people’s schedules once we have a suspect. Knowing they traveled to D.C. today will confirm our suspicions.”

“It won’t hold up in court,” Doug reminded her. A sharp pain shot through Em’s temple as she turned to stare at her partner. The combination of tension and the boredom of long stakeouts made her TMJ worse.

“We’ve got an ID from the phone,” Mike announced. “The account holder’s name is Daniel Mathews. We don’t have any intel on him, though.”