Executive

…54

The aroma of fresh baked donuts and hot coffee made Detective Holt stop typing.

"Finally," he said, thankfully reaching for the treats handed to him by his partner.

"You're welcome," Reyes said, taking a mouthful out of a glazed Krispy Kreme. "What are you entertaining yourself with?"

"Just paperwork on the Hoffmann broad. I want to have her booked before the shift is over. It's quiet around here for a Fourth of July weekend."

"Not so fast, hot shot," Reyes said, leaning against Holt's desk. "So, your mind is made up, she should be arraigned?"

"Why not? She had drugs in her car, drugs in her system. What more would you like to have before you call a case perfect?"

"How long have you been a detective? Five minutes?" Reyes scoffed.

"Huh? That's not fair, you know — almost six months. What am I missing?"

"Well, the obvious. You're not detecting anything. You're not doing the job of a detective; you're being an overly zealous and over-empowered secretary, eager to fill out forms—"

"Screw you," Holt said, punching Reyes in the shoulder.

"— and book a dubious collar, who'll step out of court whistling free, in less than five minutes."

Holt looked up, intrigued.

"So, you think she'll walk? Why?"

"Well, first of all, because you're not doing your job," Reyes said, then laughed some more, "and second, because her lawyer will do his."

"I give up. So teach me, oh, wise one," Holt said, mimicking the respectful bow given by a martial-arts trainee to his master.

"Hmm… I'm still considering not to, for the pleasure of seeing your butt kicked by the captain. The problem is my own butt would also get kicked in the process, and I'm particularly fond of my butt. I don't want any of his boot prints on it. It will ruin my reputation, as my butt's been kick-free for years, you know."

Reyes paused, taking a sip of steaming coffee.

"OK, so what do you have? You have a bag full of meth found in a car, and trace meth found in a urine test. That's all you've got. Out of context, it might look good," Reyes emphasized.

He loved to teach. He had always been partnered with young detectives, because of his passion for developing skills in others.

"In context — not so much," he continued. "What's your context?"

"The broad lied to us when she said she wasn't using," Holt ventured the argument he thought was the key point in this case.

"First of all, calling her a "broad" is uncalled for and clouds your judgment. Considering the cases you normally handle and the company you usually keep, I can see why you would call all women broads." Reyes stopped to receive the second fist to his right shoulder. "This lady is no broad in the sense you mean it. She's a highly paid professional," Reyes said, going through Alex's purse, extracting a business card. "This woman is a director with NanoLance, no less. What do you know about NanoLance?"

"They're a large defense contractor, right?"

"Right. Pay attention now. What does it mean for our case that NanoLance is a defense contractor?"

"I–I don't know," Holt admitted, reluctantly.

"Stringent security checks, random drug tests, and at least 'confidential' or 'secret' clearance for employees. For a director-level employee, I'd think 'top secret' clearance is more likely."

"So, practically, what does that mean?"

"You are more of an idiot than I had assumed," Reyes said, his smile softening the harshness of his words. "That means the employees are scrutinized periodically, and they know it. She would never willingly touch drugs."

Silence, as Holt processed the information. "OK, I guess you're right," he conceded.

"Let's look at the lab reports next." Reyes took the case file and browsed through it. "Someone has to, you know," he said laughing, as he was taking yet another stab at Holt's unsatisfactory work. "Her clothing — high end. Her suit is labeled "Calvin Klein." I looked it up online; it's one of the current models, sells for more than $700. Her blouse is pure silk — has this French brand name I can't even pronounce, but it must be worth a couple of bucks. Her shoes are," he struggled to read, "Salvatore Ferragamo. Did my job, sorry, did your job and looked these up on the Internet too, they go for $400 a pair."

"So, she must be selling a lot of drugs then, or making a lot of money at work."

"If you make a lot of money at work, would you risk it all to deal drugs? Why?"

Silence again. Holt started to feel the blood of embarrassment climb to his cheeks. He tilted his head down to hide it.

"Is this your typical user or dealer profile? She's a successfully employed executive, in a job requiring high security clearance, no less." Reyes waited for Holt to say something, but he didn't. There was nothing to say. "If you're not yet experienced enough to examine profiles, let's look at evidence." He flipped through the lab report. "Her clothes had zero trace of meth, or any other drug for that matter. I'd think she isn't using or dealing too much in these clothes, is she?"

Holt nodded his silent approval.

"Fingerprints report," Reyes continued to the next page of the lab report. "Not only does our lady have a whistle-clean record, not even a parking ticket, but her fingerprints were nowhere on that bag of meth. Someone else's were, though. They found a partial that doesn't match any of hers. What does that tell you?"

"She never touched the bag of drugs," Holt accepted.

"That means she wasn't lying when she was saying that. How about her meth use? What have you noticed?"

"The lab test came back positive; she had a trace of meth in her urine."

"The operative word here is 'trace.' In fact, the trace was so fine that the lab decided to do a hair-strand analysis to determine the history of drug use." Reyes pushed the lab report in front of Holt. "There is none. This lady isn't a user. It was all in the file, for you to read and consider."

"Oh. OK, but then how do you explain all this incriminating evidence? There were drugs in her car. She had drugs in her system."

"Oh, yes, because whoever is framing her is doing a thorough job. Very thorough for you, anyway — you almost sent her to prison. Not thorough enough for me. I need to see context, to understand the motive for the crime. If there is no motive, I get suspicious, and I have a lot of questions I need answered before sending someone to jail."

The small office grew silent again.

After a few minutes, Holt looked at Reyes and asked. "Lieutenant, do you think I have what it takes to do this job?"

"I think you do. These were rookie mistakes, nothing more. Remember not to jump to conclusions, always get the full context, get all your questions answered, and better let a guilty person go free than an innocent one do time."