"I know." But Vicki could at least handle the initial appearance and work behind the scenes at trial. She gave the papers back to Bale. "Thanks."
"Now shut up while I sign the rest." Bale sat down and started reading, which gave Vicki time to recover her composure.
"I guess this means I keep my job?"
"Unfortunately. I can't fire you now." Bale didn't look up from his reading. "I want you at the press conference."
"Yay!" Vicki couldn't help herself. Outside the window, the sun was rising and a new day dawning, but she was pretty sure it was a coincidence.
"And at the conference, we will provide no details at all about how this case went down. You keep those details to yourself and let Strauss and ATF do all the talking." Bale kept reading. "Don't blow this, or Strauss will have my head."
"Agreed."
"But you know what I think, don't you? I told you last night." Bale looked up, pen poised and eyes narrowed the way they had at about two in the morning, when he'd lectured her over pizza about the dangers she'd caused herself and others. "Never again, you promise?"
"Promise. But I'm going to the arrest, aren't I?"
"You stay in the car, like a good pup."
"Arf!" Vicki barked, and Bale got busy reading again. She watched, then took a flyer, since he was in an admitting kind of mood. "You have to admit I did a good job, boss."
"No, I don't, because you didn't." Bale didn't look up, but kept signing. "You got good results, but your methods were terrible. Dangerous. I'm putting you on another drug case, Kalahut, pairing you with ATF agent Barbara Pizer. She'll keep you too busy to think about playing detective."
"Understood," Vicki said. She decided to shut up and start taking yes for an answer.
But she found herself thinking, unaccountably, of her father.
Vicki had never been part of a major federal drug bust, and the takedown played out with a coordination and precision that would have amazed the average taxpayer, if not combat veteran. Twenty ATF agents in full gear, deployed with assault rifles and fresh warrants, reinforced by FBI agents and Philly SWAT teams, conducted, at exactly eight-seventeen on Friday morning, surprise raids on the homes, businesses, and street corners worked by each of the fifteen defendants. Dan had gone with Strauss to watch them execute the warrant on Toner for the Toys "R" Us murders, but Vicki, protected in a heavy black Kevlar vest and ensconced in an unmarked escort van, watched as ATF knocked and announced themselves at the row house of Jay Steptoe, then burst in to execute. The agents emerged without gunfire or event only ten minutes later, with a struggling Steptoe, dressed in black sweatpants and a white T-shirt.
Vicki gasped. Steptoe was cursing and fighting the agents, his expression showing the same malevolence it had the night he'd shot Morty to death, then turned the gun on her. She peered out the tiny porthole of the van, deriving great satisfaction in seeing him dragged down the front walk, kicking and screaming, and into a waiting squad car.
"Woohooo!" Vicki turned to the right, by habit, but Reheema wasn't there. As a civilian, she hadn't been permitted to come, and Vicki had barely had a chance to say good-bye to her, and thanks, before she'd put her in the elevator.
Wouldn't have got him without you, Lady Tiger, Vicki thought as she watched the squad car drive off, with its siren blaring.
Vicki wasn't completely surprised to find the press conference as carefully staged, timed, and coordinated as the drug bust.
U.S. Attorney Strauss, Chief Bale, brass from ATF, FBI, Philly police, and finally Dan and Vicki stood at the front of the room, in the glare of klieglights and at least forty-five still cameras and videocameras. Strauss took the podium precisely at 12:10, arranged to give the local networks the time to broadcast the warehouse fire du jour, then cut to the press conference.
Strauss cleared his throat. "My office today is announcing that a major victory has been won in Project Clean Shopping to keep the city of Philadelphia free of violent crime. Today, we have arrested and captured one William Toner, the individual who, as part of a drug conspiracy, is charged with the murder of two drug dealers and five other innocent citizens in front of Toys ‘R' Us the other day."
Photos snapped, motor drives whirred, and there was even applause.
"In addition, as part of the same master raid, we have today arrested one Jay Steptoe for the murder of ATF Special Agent Robert Morton, whom you may recall was shot down last week in the line of duty."
There was applause at that, and Vicki looked down.
"Here are the charges, and the defendants, in summary," Strauss continued, and Vicki didn't listen to the rest, not after the part about Morty. She was thinking about what Bale had said, about the force of law, and how in the end, it had prevailed. The office would have to try the case against Steptoe and she would have to make sure they won, and something told her that she would, for Morty.
"Finally," Strauss concluded, "it is very important at this time for me to give credit for his fine investigative and supervisor efforts in connection with this matter, which, as you can imagine, was a Herculean task." Strauss paused, and the silence made Vicki look up, bringing her out of her reverie.
"I would like to publicly thank Chief Howard Bale, Section Chief, for his unwavering commitment both to justice and to the safety of our citizens in this highly dangerous and vitally crucial area of law enforcement. Chief Bale?" Grinning, Strauss extended his long arm, like a game show host, at Bale. The audience clapped, and Vicki joined them spontaneously, and Dan followed suit so she wouldn't look stupid. She would have to thank him later, in bed.
Bale took the podium and said a few words, then the ATF and FBI brass, and finally the mayor, the police commissioner, the deputy mayor, and the president of the chamber of commerce, who invited everybody to come out and shop, shop, shop in safety. The press conference finally ended, and Vicki couldn't help but wonder if Reheema had been watching TV and what she thought of the show.
Which reminded Vicki that she still had some unfinished business.
THIRTY-NINE
Vicki lay with her head happily nestled on Dan's warm chest, at home, in the quiet dark of the bedroom she was coming to think of as theirs. She knew the thought was premature, but it was hard to think clearly after really terrific sex with a man she loved, under a white baffle comforter, with a calico cat curled into a variegated ball at the foot of the bed. Especially when you've left work early to make love. Vicki considered making hooky sex her new hobby.
The late afternoon sun, which had been outside the bedroom window when they had come home, had long gone, swept away by the frosty blue blast of a winter sky. It had to be six o'clock, or later. Vicki focused dreamily on the blue square over the half curtains, but couldn't tell if it would be cloudy again. As a little girl, she used to watch for the stars before sleep, imagining them in winter as hard as diamonds, fired by the cold of heaven.
"So that was my reward?" Dan asked, his voice soft and deep.
"Yes. I'm a fan of positive reinforcement. Lucky you."
"In that case, it'll have to do."
"Very funny. " Vicki pinched Dan's side, and he squirmed.
"I'm still mad at you, though."
"Aw. Don't start all over again."
"I am. You've been rewarded, too, by my fabulous sexual prowess, but you should be punished."
"Spank me."
"I'm not kidding. Going into my briefcase? Stealing my papers? Staking out dangerous felons? Lying to me, day after day?"
"I'm sorry I lied to you."
"You even acted like you hadn't seen that photo of Toner, when you took it!"
Vicki winced. "I'm sorry about that, too."
"What about the other things?"
"I'm not sorry about them."
"You should be!" Dan didn't sound like he was smiling, and it was killing her postcoital stargazing.