Where There's a Will

out in front of him, was wearing his Colorado Rockies cap, and he was thinking hard, staring out the window with a dreamy, thoughtful look on his face. Although the sandwich was in his hand, he wasn’t eating. Gideon and John’s entry snapped him out of his reflections and into a more characteristic temper.

“What is this, more Torkel-Magnus crap? What do you people think, I don’t have enough to keep me busy?”

“You got a forensics library?” John repeated.

“Sit down a minute. I got a little news for you two.”

“I got news for you, Teddy,” John said. Hands on his hips, he shifted from foot to foot, while they stared at each other. “So, I guess you’re not gonna tell me if there’s a forensics library?”

Fukida sighed and slapped down his sandwich. “Sarah!”

“My master’s voice,” floated over the partition from the clerical bullpen and in a moment Sarah herself followed. “You bellowed, sire?” She’d been having lunch, too. She was still chewing.

“Take this guy to the library, will you please?”

“Uh... the library?” she said doubtfully. “It’s lunchtime. The boys have their poker game going.”

“I’m not gonna bother them,” John said. “Oh, and I also need the report from ballistics, if there is one, Teddy. On Torkelsson.”

“What do you mean, if there is one? What kind of outfit do you think we run here?”

“I’m starting to wonder. So, can I look at it or not?”

“Give the man whatever he wants,” Fukida said with a magisterial wave. “Mi casa es su casa.”

As John left, Fukida motioned Gideon to a chair. “Sit, chief. You want a Coke or something?”

“No, thanks.”

“So what’s the big guy all excited about?”

“I have no idea, Sergeant. But it was important enough to skip lunch, so, whatever it is, hold on to your hat.”

Fukida went back to his sandwich. “May as well call me Ted,” he mumbled.

“Thanks, Ted.”

“As long as you’re going to be coming in here every day.”

“Not every day, I hope,” Gideon said, smiling. He saw now that the folders spread across Fukida’s desk were from the Torkelsson file. Now that was interesting. “You said there was some kind of news?”

“Plenty, but wait’ll Lau gets back. I don’t want to have to go through it twice.” He swiveled his chair to look out the window and chomped methodically, as if he were counting chews. “I wonder what he wants the ballistics report for.”

“Beats me. I don’t know if you know it or not, Ted, but one of John’s specialties at the Bureau is ballistics. He really knows his stuff. He lectures on it in Quantico every couple of years.”

“No, I didn’t know. I’m impressed. That’s a good outfit, the Academy. I took a fingerprint technology course there a little while ago; learned a lot. The kid’s come a long way. I knew he would. Don’t tell him I said that.”

At which point John came barreling into the room with an open book in one hand and a green folder in the other. “Here it is. Listen.” He held up the book so they could see the cover. “This is Di Maio, Gunshot Wounds. He’s talking about this case where this guy got shot in the knee, okay? Here’s what he says—”

“The knee?” Fukida exploded. “Who gives a shit about a guy who got shot in the knee?”

“The point is—”

“Sit down, Lau,” Fukida commanded. “I got something important to tell you.”

“Well, this is important, too. You think I—”

“Johnny, for the last time—”

“Okay, okay,” John said, taking the remaining chair. “You want to tell me? Tell me. See? I’m sitting down.” One conspicuous fore-finger remained in the book, marking his place.

“And listen.”

“I’m listening.” He closed the book and held up the finger for inspection. “See?”

“Okay. Now. Dagmar and Inge Torkelsson were in to see me a little while ago. Apparently, you two guys scared the bejesus out of Axel with that ‘discreet’ interviewing, and Axel called Inge, and Inge talked to Dagmar, and the two of them decided the best thing was to make a clean breast of it right now, before they got in even deeper.”

He folded his hands, started his thumbs circling around each other, and leaned back. “The brunt of it is, they all knew about the Torkel-Magnus switch from Day One—all of them, the whole damn family, and they all conspired to cover it up. They sat right here and admitted it.”

He sat back expectantly, waiting for their reactions.

Gideon wasn’t sure what his own was. Was he surprised? No, not really; not after the questions he and John had been raising the last few days. Did that mean he’d been expecting this? No, he couldn’t say that either. He’d