reached up and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Ivers extended his arm to bring Gibbons and Lorraine into the circle. “Dr. Cummings, this is Agent Cuthbert Gibbons and Lorraine Bernstein.”
Gibbons instinctively clenched his jaw at the sound of his first name. He hated it, and he hated having to explain to people that he hated it. He preferred to be called Gibbons, just Gibbons, but he decided not to bother setting Dr. Cummings straight. He wouldn’t be seeing much of her since he never had much contact with people outside of the Organized Crime Unit, thank God.
Cummings shook his hand, then took Lorraine’s. “And may I ask what your interest is here, Ms. Bernstein?”
Lorraine was thrown off by the bluntness of her question. “Well … I’m Gibbons’s wife and Michael’s cousin.”
“I see.” Dr. Cummings turned back to Ivers, dismissing the husband-and-wife team.
“And by the way,” Lorraine added, “that’s Professor Bernstein.” Lorraine flashed her cordial de’ Medici smile.
Dr. Cummings’s head snapped back around. She offered a small smile of her own, nodding in approval.
“Dr. Cummings is with the Bureau’s Behavioral Science Unit at Quantico,” Ivers explained. “She’s going to be with us for a while.”
“To analyze Tozzi?” Gibbons smiled like a crocodile. “I always said he needed his head examined.”
Tozzi gave him the drop-dead stare. “I never heard you say that.”
“You never listen.”
“Actually, gentlemen,” Cummings said, “my specialty is aberrant psychology that expresses itself in compulsively violent manifestations.”
Gibbons exhaled a laugh. “Sounds like my partner’s last job evaluation.”
Lorraine shot him the hairy eyeball. That meant she wanted him to behave. She couldn’t pick on Tozzi in front of company so she probably figured she had to make do with picking on her husband because she could do that without talking, just dirty looks and signals. It’s a skill wives seem to develop naturally. Give her a few more years and she’d be using mental telepathy to chew him out, screaming into his head from out of the blue. It was too bad he loved her so much. Love can be a goddamn liability sometimes.
“Dr. Cummings is here as part of an internal exchange program the Bureau has instituted,” Ivers said. “Agents who normally work in the labs or at desk jobs will be getting some field experience in order to get a better understanding of how the system functions as a whole. Dr. Cummings will be working as a street agent for the next six weeks, getting a feel for the front line, as it were.”
Ivers and Cummings smiled and nodded, apparently pleased with each other. Gibbons nodded, but he wasn’t smiling. Another bullshit program from the brass in Washington. Let the executive agents tour the trenches for a month and a half so they’ll have something to talk about at their Georgetown dinner parties. Grade-A bullshit.
“I had planned to put Dr. Cummings with Robertson and Kelso,” Ivers said, “but since Tozzi will be on sick leave for at least a month, I think I’ll let her partner with you, Bert.”
Gibbons face went slack. “What?”
“Yes.” Ivers nodded, confirming his own decision. “It makes sense in terms of manpower allotment. By the time Tozzi is ready to return to duty, Dr. Cummings’s stint here will almost be up.” Ivers smoothed the lapels of his camel sport jacket, proud of himself, the prick.
Gibbons’s stomach growled. “I don’t think that’s such a great idea. You can’t just slot anybody into an LCN investigation. I’m working full-time on the Mistretta rubout, for chrissake. This is no time for on-the-job training. I’ve got informants who trust me. They see a new face, they’ll clam right up. How’m I gonna get anything done with her hanging around?”
Cummings raised her chin and clasped her hands behind her back. “Agent Gibbons, do you think I’ll be an impediment to your La Cosa Nostra
Ivers extended his arm to bring Gibbons and Lorraine into the circle. “Dr. Cummings, this is Agent Cuthbert Gibbons and Lorraine Bernstein.”
Gibbons instinctively clenched his jaw at the sound of his first name. He hated it, and he hated having to explain to people that he hated it. He preferred to be called Gibbons, just Gibbons, but he decided not to bother setting Dr. Cummings straight. He wouldn’t be seeing much of her since he never had much contact with people outside of the Organized Crime Unit, thank God.
Cummings shook his hand, then took Lorraine’s. “And may I ask what your interest is here, Ms. Bernstein?”
Lorraine was thrown off by the bluntness of her question. “Well … I’m Gibbons’s wife and Michael’s cousin.”
“I see.” Dr. Cummings turned back to Ivers, dismissing the husband-and-wife team.
“And by the way,” Lorraine added, “that’s Professor Bernstein.” Lorraine flashed her cordial de’ Medici smile.
Dr. Cummings’s head snapped back around. She offered a small smile of her own, nodding in approval.
“Dr. Cummings is with the Bureau’s Behavioral Science Unit at Quantico,” Ivers explained. “She’s going to be with us for a while.”
“To analyze Tozzi?” Gibbons smiled like a crocodile. “I always said he needed his head examined.”
Tozzi gave him the drop-dead stare. “I never heard you say that.”
“You never listen.”
“Actually, gentlemen,” Cummings said, “my specialty is aberrant psychology that expresses itself in compulsively violent manifestations.”
Gibbons exhaled a laugh. “Sounds like my partner’s last job evaluation.”
Lorraine shot him the hairy eyeball. That meant she wanted him to behave. She couldn’t pick on Tozzi in front of company so she probably figured she had to make do with picking on her husband because she could do that without talking, just dirty looks and signals. It’s a skill wives seem to develop naturally. Give her a few more years and she’d be using mental telepathy to chew him out, screaming into his head from out of the blue. It was too bad he loved her so much. Love can be a goddamn liability sometimes.
“Dr. Cummings is here as part of an internal exchange program the Bureau has instituted,” Ivers said. “Agents who normally work in the labs or at desk jobs will be getting some field experience in order to get a better understanding of how the system functions as a whole. Dr. Cummings will be working as a street agent for the next six weeks, getting a feel for the front line, as it were.”
Ivers and Cummings smiled and nodded, apparently pleased with each other. Gibbons nodded, but he wasn’t smiling. Another bullshit program from the brass in Washington. Let the executive agents tour the trenches for a month and a half so they’ll have something to talk about at their Georgetown dinner parties. Grade-A bullshit.
“I had planned to put Dr. Cummings with Robertson and Kelso,” Ivers said, “but since Tozzi will be on sick leave for at least a month, I think I’ll let her partner with you, Bert.”
Gibbons face went slack. “What?”
“Yes.” Ivers nodded, confirming his own decision. “It makes sense in terms of manpower allotment. By the time Tozzi is ready to return to duty, Dr. Cummings’s stint here will almost be up.” Ivers smoothed the lapels of his camel sport jacket, proud of himself, the prick.
Gibbons’s stomach growled. “I don’t think that’s such a great idea. You can’t just slot anybody into an LCN investigation. I’m working full-time on the Mistretta rubout, for chrissake. This is no time for on-the-job training. I’ve got informants who trust me. They see a new face, they’ll clam right up. How’m I gonna get anything done with her hanging around?”
Cummings raised her chin and clasped her hands behind her back. “Agent Gibbons, do you think I’ll be an impediment to your La Cosa Nostra
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