Judging Time

44

The computers in the detective squad of Midtown North were a big step up from the typewriters of years past, but the unit still didn't have a modem. Without a modem Hagedorn couldn't go on-line and reach deep into the system to tease out the secrets of the phone numbers behind the entry codes. Hagedorn had to move downstairs to the main precinct computer room, where Mark Salley, the lean, anal-retentive sergeant who manned it, was not pleased to see him.

"Hey, wait just a little second. What do you think you're doing here?" Salley demanded when Hagedorn marched into his computer room, heavily laden with two Styrofoam cups of coffee, light on the milk, a fistful of sugar packets, and a six-pack of cola.

Hagedorn had come downstairs to the main floor of the precinct, trotted quickly past the open door of the precinct commander's office, where Bjork Johnson, the brand-new commander, was at his desk talking into the phone with some urgency.

"Nobody told you I got a priority assignment here?" Hagedorn asked, his watery eyes opening wide with surprise.

Salley sneered. "I mean that shit there." The sergeant pointed to the drink supply.

"Gotta have sustenance." Hagedorn held the cans by one finger hooked through the plastic harness. He rattled them for emphasis.

"No, no. Not in here, not with my equipment, you don't." Salley shook his head and gave a little whistle. "Outta here."

Hagedorn whined. "Oh, come on. I can't think without my caffeine."

"I don't give a fuck." Salley gave Hagedorn his back.

"What's going on here, Sergeant?" lriarte trotted into the room, pushing Hagedorn aside.

At the sound of Iriarte's voice, Salley made an quick about-face. "Well, hello, Lieutenant, how ya doin'."

"You got a problem?" lriarte radiated genial concern at the sergeant.

Salley smiled ingratiatingly. "I hear you need to go on-line. Wouldn't you like me to help you with that? I got the experience from the Kerson case, that fraud-"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember. Good job, Salley." Iriarte flipped his hand at the chair in front of one of the computers, indicating that Hagedorn should take it.

"Lieutenant, excuse me, sir—"

"Computers are the wave of the future in police work, Salley. No doubt about it. You're riding the crest. You'll be right there at the top."

"Thank you, sir. But we have a rule here, no food or drink in the computer room."

"You heard Hagedorn, Salley, he can't think without his caffeine. Now, we've got a special assignment here. The whole country is waiting on us to pick this guy Liberty up. You want to obstruct or help with that effort?"

Salley watched with horror as Hagedorn put the coffee cups down beside the computer.

"So help him out, Sergeant." Iriarte spun on the heel of his woven leather slip-on and left the room. He headed down the hall to brief the commander on the break in the Liberty case.

When Iriarte lingered in the door, Captain Johnson waved him into the office, then kept him waiting for twenty-eight minutes as the commander tried to negotiate with someone at headquarters for a postponement of his first Comstat appearance.

Comstats were computer compilations of the number of crimes and arrests in every precinct every week. They were programmed and analyzed by the precinct commander's aides. Every precinct commander periodically had to go downtown to explain and defend his numbers. The way it looked the new commander would have to take his turn in the hot seat, defending the police work in his precinct for the last month with less than a week on the job. Iriarte tapped his fingers impatiently, but could not get up and leave. When Captain Johnson finally hung up, he immediately reached for his hat. His second-in-command jumped up to help him with his coat.

"I have to go to a meeting downtown, Lieutenant—"

"Iriarte, sir." The lieutenant saluted.

"I'll have to catch you later." He nodded imperiously as he left.

Iriarte went back into the computer room and hung over Hagedorn's neck. "How's it going?"

Sergeant Salley spoke first. "We're lucky. He uses one of the easy services."

"So—1" Iriarte prodded.

"Liberty hasn't generated any E-mail activity today," Hagedorn said. "We can't trace yesterday's numbers. We can only locate the phone he's using if we're in the system at the same time he's in."

Iriarte sucked in his lips pensively. "He was in the area of the Thirtieth last night. We know that. Shot someone. Ballistics tells me we may be able to tie some other homicides to that gun. Maybe Liberty's been a busier boy than we thought."

"There's a BOLO out on him. Everybody's looking for him," Hagedorn said.

"Yeah, but I want to be the one to get him. I want him nailed out of here, out of this precinct, understand?" Iriarte stuck a finger in Hagedorn's back. "We didn't get that raper last summer. If it turns out the same guy hit that woman up in the Two-O, we're going to look like fucking idiots. We've got to get Liberty."

Sergeant Salley smiled. "Don't worry, they always reach out to their mothers, or somebody they rely on, sometime. If he has the habit of E-mailing, he'll do it now."

Iriarte checked his watch. "He'd better do it soon. I go off duty at six."

At a few minutes past five, Liberty E-mailed Jason Frank from a phone in the one hundred block of 110th Street. The E-mail intercepted by the police at Mid-town North read, "Jason, everything is going to be fine. I'm going on TV with my story tonight at seven. Watch me on WCRN."

Iriarte flipped. "Oh, man. Oh, shit. We got him." He clapped his hands with excitement. "I'm telling you that is good work. I'll remember you in my will."

"Thank you, sir," Hagedorn chirped.

"Any word from Sanchez and Woo?"

"Not for an hour, you want to leave them a message?" Hagedorn didn't bother to swipe his empty containers into the wastebasket at his feet.

"Nah, get me four bodies, two units, and that address."

"Yessir." Hagedorn was on his feet.

Iriarte grabbed Hagedorn's sleeve and continued talking. "We go up there. No sound and light show. We're talking real quiet and real fast. We have an advantage. Liberty's not expecting us. We have a disadvantage. We don't know where the interview is taking place. If there's a camera crew arriving, we've got to move fast. Go!" Iriarte nodded at Sergeant Salley and left him to deal with Hagedorn's garbage.