separately from the field regarding the Reinhold homicides.”
He sat back, tented his big hands. “Double murder. Mother and father.”
“Yes, sir. Evidence, overwhelming even at this point, supports the fact that Jerald Reinhold stabbed his mother more than fifty times, then lay in wait for his father for over six hours. He beat his father to death with multiple blows using a baseball bat.”
She ran it through, top to bottom, side to side, without much interruption. For the most part Whitney simply sat, watching her, giving the occasional nod or asking a brief question for clarification.
“I intend to ask Dr. Mira to profile, and still have to interview the ex-girlfriend, and his former coworkers, supervisors. But the three men he’s known to be closest to haven’t yet had contact since the murders.”
“You believe them?”
“Yes, sir. He has what he wants. He’s had his celebration. I expect a report from Officer Cardininni shortly on what’s missing from the scene so we can notify pawnshops, secondhand stores. He’ll want to get rid of what he took, add to his cash. He was smart enough not to stay in one location, where we could easily track him, but he has to land somewhere.”
“Local media will play it up for a news cycle or two. You’ll handle that.”
Hated that, Eve thought, could and would handle that. “I’ll have a more detailed report shortly,” Eve began.
“I’m sure you will. I’m satisfied you have this investigation in hand, but I called you up here on another matter.” Now he laid his hands on the desk. “You’re to be awarded the Medal of Honor.”
“Sir?”
“Most specifically for your exemplary work, the personal risks taken, and the countless lives you saved through that work, by those risks in the recent incidents of mass murder by chemical weapons, the apprehension of Lewis Callaway and Gina MacMillon, and the case you built against them.”
“Commander, I’m honored. But I didn’t investigate, apprehend, or build the case alone. My team—”
“Will be acknowledged, as will Agent Teasdale from the HSO. You headed that team, Lieutenant. You commanded and command those men and women. This is the highest honor bestowed on a police officer by the NYPSD, and isn’t given lightly—though some politics may come into play. In this case, and in my considered opinion, they played properly. Do you want to dispute my considered opinion, Lieutenant?”
“No, sir.” Neatly cornered, she thought. “Thank you, sir.”
“The presentation is scheduled for this coming Wednesday, at fourteen hundred. I’ve been given the nod to so inform you. I’m proud to do so.”
“Thank you, Commander.” Actually, the idea left her tight in the chest with a snagged-up combination of pride, gratitude, and outright embarrassment. “I don’t want to seem ungrateful. I’m very grateful. But is it possible to keep this …”
“Low-key, quiet, small, and relatively private?”
Hope struggled to bloom through the snags. “Any of that?”
His lips curved. “Absolutely not. Suck that up, Dallas.”
And quietly died. “Yes, sir.”
“And on another matter that also has its tangle of politics, I have a question for you. Do you want a captaincy?”
Eve opened her mouth; couldn’t think of a thing. For a moment, she couldn’t quite feel her own feet. “Sir?”
“It’s a direct question, Lieutenant. I’d like a direct answer.” But before she could formulate one, he held up a finger to hold that answer off. “You’re young for the rank. Would be the youngest captain under my command. And if it had been my call alone, the bars would’ve been offered to you long before this. Politics, perception, prejudice have all played a part in the decision not to offer them. Our personal lives are part of who we are, and part of how we’re perceived.”
“Understood, Commander.” And because she did—not only understood him, but the process, and herself, everything in her
He sat back, tented his big hands. “Double murder. Mother and father.”
“Yes, sir. Evidence, overwhelming even at this point, supports the fact that Jerald Reinhold stabbed his mother more than fifty times, then lay in wait for his father for over six hours. He beat his father to death with multiple blows using a baseball bat.”
She ran it through, top to bottom, side to side, without much interruption. For the most part Whitney simply sat, watching her, giving the occasional nod or asking a brief question for clarification.
“I intend to ask Dr. Mira to profile, and still have to interview the ex-girlfriend, and his former coworkers, supervisors. But the three men he’s known to be closest to haven’t yet had contact since the murders.”
“You believe them?”
“Yes, sir. He has what he wants. He’s had his celebration. I expect a report from Officer Cardininni shortly on what’s missing from the scene so we can notify pawnshops, secondhand stores. He’ll want to get rid of what he took, add to his cash. He was smart enough not to stay in one location, where we could easily track him, but he has to land somewhere.”
“Local media will play it up for a news cycle or two. You’ll handle that.”
Hated that, Eve thought, could and would handle that. “I’ll have a more detailed report shortly,” Eve began.
“I’m sure you will. I’m satisfied you have this investigation in hand, but I called you up here on another matter.” Now he laid his hands on the desk. “You’re to be awarded the Medal of Honor.”
“Sir?”
“Most specifically for your exemplary work, the personal risks taken, and the countless lives you saved through that work, by those risks in the recent incidents of mass murder by chemical weapons, the apprehension of Lewis Callaway and Gina MacMillon, and the case you built against them.”
“Commander, I’m honored. But I didn’t investigate, apprehend, or build the case alone. My team—”
“Will be acknowledged, as will Agent Teasdale from the HSO. You headed that team, Lieutenant. You commanded and command those men and women. This is the highest honor bestowed on a police officer by the NYPSD, and isn’t given lightly—though some politics may come into play. In this case, and in my considered opinion, they played properly. Do you want to dispute my considered opinion, Lieutenant?”
“No, sir.” Neatly cornered, she thought. “Thank you, sir.”
“The presentation is scheduled for this coming Wednesday, at fourteen hundred. I’ve been given the nod to so inform you. I’m proud to do so.”
“Thank you, Commander.” Actually, the idea left her tight in the chest with a snagged-up combination of pride, gratitude, and outright embarrassment. “I don’t want to seem ungrateful. I’m very grateful. But is it possible to keep this …”
“Low-key, quiet, small, and relatively private?”
Hope struggled to bloom through the snags. “Any of that?”
His lips curved. “Absolutely not. Suck that up, Dallas.”
And quietly died. “Yes, sir.”
“And on another matter that also has its tangle of politics, I have a question for you. Do you want a captaincy?”
Eve opened her mouth; couldn’t think of a thing. For a moment, she couldn’t quite feel her own feet. “Sir?”
“It’s a direct question, Lieutenant. I’d like a direct answer.” But before she could formulate one, he held up a finger to hold that answer off. “You’re young for the rank. Would be the youngest captain under my command. And if it had been my call alone, the bars would’ve been offered to you long before this. Politics, perception, prejudice have all played a part in the decision not to offer them. Our personal lives are part of who we are, and part of how we’re perceived.”
“Understood, Commander.” And because she did—not only understood him, but the process, and herself, everything in her
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