First to Die

Chapter 12

QUARTER TO NINE the next morning, I was rapping at the fogged window of Lieutenant Roth's office at the Hall. Roth likes me- like another daughter, he says. He has no idea how condescending he can be. I'm tempted to tell Roth that I like him- like a grandfather. I was expecting a crowd- at least a couple of suits from Internal Affairs, or maybe Captain Welting, who oversaw the Bureau of Inspectors- but, as he motioned me in, I saw that there was only one other person in the room. A nice-looking type dressed in a chambray shirt and striped tie, with short, dark hair and strong shoulders. He had a handsome, intelligent face that seemed to come to life as I walked in, but it only meant one thing to me: Polished brass. Someone from the department's press corps, or City Hall. I had the blunt, uneasy feeling they'd been talking about me. On the way over, I had rehearsed a convincing rebuttal about the breach in press security- how I'd arrived late on the scene myself, and the real issue was the crime. But Roth surprised me. ""Wedding Bell Blues," they're calling it," he said tossing the morning's Chronicle in my face. "I saw it," I replied, relieved to focus back on the case. He looked at Mr. City Hall. "We'll be reading about this one every step of the way. Both kids were rich, Ivy League, popular. Sort of like young Kennedy and that blond wife of his- their tragedy." "Who they were doesn't matter to me," I answered. "Listen, Sam, about yesterday…" He stopped me with his hand. "Forget about yesterday. Chief Mercer's already been on the line with me. This case has his full attention." He glanced at the smartly dressed political type in the corner. "Anyway, he wants there to be close reins on this case. What happened on other high-profile investigations can't happen here." Then he said to me, "We're changing the rules on this one." Suddenly, the air in the room got thick with the uneasy feel of a setup. Then Mr. City Hall stepped forward. I noticed his eyes bore the experienced lines of someone who had put in his time. "The mayor and Chief Mercer thought we might handle this investigation as an interdepartmental alliance. That is, if you were up for working with someone new," he said. "New?" My eyes bounced back and forth between the two, ultimately settling on Roth. "Meet your new partner," Roth announced. I'm getting royally screwed, a voice inside me declared. They wouldn't do this to a man. "Chris Raleigh," Mr. City Hall Hotshot said, extending his hand. I didn't reach out to take it. "For the past few years," Roth went on, "Captain Raleigh has worked as a Community Action liaison with the mayor's office. He specializes in managing potentially sensitive cases." "Managing?" Raleigh rolled his eyes at me. He was trying to be self effacing. "Containing… controlling the damage… healing any wounds in the community afterwards." "Oh," I shot back, "you're a marketing man." He smiled. Every part of him oozed a practiced, confident air I associated with the kind of men who sat around large tables at City Hall. "Before that," Roth went on, "Chris was a district captain over in Northern." "That's Embassy Row." I sniffed. Everybody joked about the blue-blooded Northern district, which ranged from Nob Hill to Pacific Heights. Hot crimes there were society women who heard noises outside their town houses and late-arriving tourists locked out of their bed-and-breakfasts. "We also handled traffic around the Presidio," Raleigh countered with another smile. I ignored him. I turned to Roth. "What about Warren?" He and I had shared every case for the past two years. "Jacobi'll be reassigned. I've got a plum job for him and his big mouth." I didn't like leaving my partner behind, dumb-ass wisecracks and all. But Jacobi was his own worst enemy. To my surprise, Raleigh asked, "You okay with this, Inspector?"