times every decade. Much good it did.”
At which Livvy enjoyed a good laugh. Fortunately, the pain medications had taken effect, and she didn’t have any fractured ribs.
Chp. 17 The Rookie (Monday)
When Livvy came in late Monday morning, her second week in LLE, Agnew and the rest of the squad looked up and nodded at her in greeting. She nodded back, and felt hopeful.
She’d spent the first hour of the day at an accelerated healing appointment at the City Central Clinic, so when she arrived, Chris was already in the Chief’s office, probably giving an unofficial report. She sat down a little awkwardly and started trying to complete some notes on the case memotab, while surreptitiously keeping an eye on the Chief.
The door was closed, and this time she wasn’t sitting on the bench right outside it, so she couldn’t hear a word. She was actually very good at lip-reading but Chris had his back to her and often when the Chief did say something he was staring right at her, so she didn’t dare stare back. It was disconcerting, to say the least. Maybe he knew about the lip-reading.
She went back to her case memotab, writing her own report, with the official report written by the Chief before her for reference. Chris had explained to her, with a totally straight face, that for complicated, newsworthy cases, LLE handled the official reports by having the Chief write them based on verbal accounts or memos from the detectives. Then whoever handled the case wrote their own official report, using that written by the Chief as a reference.
The Chief’s official report made very little mention of anything that might be considered an LLE concern. As released to the media, the facts were that Bedford and his personal physician Dr. Josephson had both been fatally injured in a deadly struggle with the men who had kidnapped Bedford’s grandson, Jesse. Some ill-defined misunderstanding about the ransom. It made them both sound vaguely heroic but that couldn’t be helped. LLE’s involvement was solely attributed to the fact that Josephson was a licensed LLE practitioner and researcher who had been missing. His role had officially been to care for Bedford and his recovered grandson in a stressful situation and to be available in case of injury. The timing of his disappearance relative to the kidnapping was also very vague.
Livvy knew some of the truth. Bedford and Josephson were both dead, which meant that for LLE this was the best possible outcome. As far as she could tell, LLE might consider it the only acceptable outcome. She was afraid to ask, since it might diminish some of her personal satisfaction to know the actual details, but she trusted her partner’s sense of fairness, which in her experience was unassailable. He’d risked his life to talk to Williams, and he’d given her a week to prove herself.
She believed she knew how Josephson had died. He was probably the one who’d shot her with an illegal Stinger. She wasn’t sure about Bedford. He’d had a glancing, bruising blow to the arm and chest – Chris said he’d thrown a fireplace poker at him – and had two Stinger duoloads in him. Bedford had apparently stopped breathing at some point while Chris was up in the cottage and before the Med Techs had arrived. The only one in the room at the time was Williams, and he’d had a gunshot wound.
None of the guards, either from the mansion or the horse farm, were charged with anything. Apparently, they were all happy to be able to go on their own way to find the next wealthy employer. To justify the LLE raids, they were told that Bedford had had illegal hotlabs on his properties. They surely knew this was true, despite the official story that was fed to the media, and they were willing to accept it. The man who’d been paying them was dead; there was absolutely nothing to be gained from questioning LLE’s verisimilitude on other details. Among the subculture of professional security guards, LLE was known to have a very long arm, and the fact that both Bedford and Josephson were dead only added to LLE’s mystique. Surely its officers were dangerous to cross.
Livvy heard a rumor that the guard who’d thrown the armor-shredding grenade at her had awakened on Sunday morning in an alley in one of the roughest neighborhoods of the worst ghetto in D.C. with no memory of how he’d gotten there. He was naked and sore all over but there wasn’t a mark on him other than the new permanent tattoo on his forearm. In dark black antique script of the kind that might be used to print a bible on paper it said, “Absent in body but present in spirit. We know where and who you are.” He was smart enough to know LLE wasn’t just referring to the alley or his current alias. Sometimes there are no second chances, and he decided the life of a mercenary overseas had more appeal at this point in his life.
The memorial services for Bedford and Josephson were three days later, and were widely attended by a great many glamorous, youthful-looking and attractive people, but neither one had a family member present. Jesse was still too traumatized by his mother’s death and his own kidnapping, and only a very few even remembered John Bedford still had a daughter.
While Chris was still in the Chief’s office Dalton stopped at Livvy’s desk with a fresh cup of black coffee, which she put on Livvy’s new desktop cup warmer.
“Nice work,” she said. “And all within your first five – or was it six? – days on the job. You really were thrown into the briar patch right from the start.
“So. Do you think you’ll be staying with LLE for a while? Now that Williams will be retiring on partial disability, we could use another body.”
“DE didn’t have anything to say about him?” Livvy asked.
“Why? Because he was at the site of a battle over a couple of hotlabs, or a kidnapped boy if you prefer, and wounded, by the way?”
Livvy frowned. “You mean even DE…”
“DE, and all of the other squads, including Homicide and, as you already found out, Tactical,” Dalton said, and smiled at her, “know LLE handles its own cases in its own way. Things tend to get very messy if they try to step in, and sometimes it takes years to clean up the mess. LLE is accorded a certain amount of trust. We try not to abuse it.”
Livvy was still frowning as she looked up at Dalton. “You mentioned Williams retiring. Does that mean LLE is looking specifically for someone to partner Agnew?”
“Ah, no. That will probably be me or another LLE veteran. The Chief would never put two LLE rookies together. Despite everything that you went through in the last week, you’re still considered an LLE rookie. He’ll try to get someone in from some other squad to partner with Toscano. Or you, if you choose.
“One of the reasons McGregor isn’t a training officer is that the Chief likes to give the rookies a chance to actually get some training. You know, before they almost get killed.”
Meg looked down at Livvy’s desk and toyed with the coffee mug on the warmer. “McGregor will always count this case as a failure because Mickey Bedford and her bodyguard died. But personally, I can’t think of anyone else who would have even been onto Bedford in time to warn her. As far as the rest of LLE is concerned, you got your men, both of them. And Jesse Bedford survived, and you survived. Good work.”
“Th…Thank you,” Livvy said.
“Can you live with the fact that they’ll never say it?” Meg asked, jerking her head towards the Chief’s office.
“You’ve never met my parents,” Livvy said wryly.
Meg laughed. “Also, in case you’ve forgotten what I said before, let me remind you. LLE tends to be a career- snuffer. No one ever gets out alive, even if they want to leave. But it’s not too late for you.”
“I remember a warning to that effect.”
Chris came out of the Chief’s office and stopped at her desk. His face told her nothing. He nodded at Meg, who nodded back with a lingering smile and moved away.
Chris was moving even more stiffly than she was, although she supposed technically they’d call her manner of walking a limp. She hoped to be ready to go back into the field by the end of the week. McGregor, who had bony injuries, would need longer, even with accelerated healing sessions.
