Vertical Coffin (2004) by Stephen - Scully 04 Cannell Page A
Authors: Stephen - Scully 04 Cannell
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or something?"
"No. I trust the DNA match. What I think is, maybe a sheriff or ATF agent knew something about Smiley, or maybe Smiley had something on one of them. He gave the Arcadia P . D . a DNA sample, maybe he raped some cop's sister and this was disguised payback. Maybe he had knowledge about some cop's misdeeds and needed to be silenced. Somebody is lying about that warrant, and I'm looking for the motive. I just want to keep my options open."
"Maybe ATF just screwed up and that's why they're lying," she said, voicing the solution both the LASD and LAPD were rooting for.
"I still want to see if he ever applied to our academy."
"Shane, don't make me order you to do this my way."
"And don't force me to disobey my division commander's direct order. At the center of this, something's very wrong. Smiley hates cops, but he's walking around pretending to be one? He has boxes of C-four, nobody knows where it came from. The vest, the bomb shelter, it's all inconsistent. It needs to be looked at."
She studied me for a long moment. "I'm standing on top of a land mine here. I don't need you to tell me how much powder is in the mine. I need you to disarm the damn thing."
"Honey, you're coming at this from a totally parochial position. You already have a theory and you want my investigation to confirm it. That's not the way to go about it."
She sighed and her expression softened.
"I'm through investigating Hidden Ranch anyway," I said to mollify her. "I'm now working my way from the center out. Sheriffs are still in control of all the lab and CSI evidence. I talked to a labbie in their forensics division named Robyn DeYoung. She's the evidence tech for Hidden Ranch and she isn' t t oo eager to follow through on any of my requests. That has to change. I want them to look for the dog and the bomb shelter."
"Okay. I'll make you a deal. I'll unstick that, and I'll see if Smiley's in our academy apps, but you have to start concentrating on whether ATF or the sheriffs are lying."
We both sat back in our chairs and stared across the linen tablecloth like fighters who had gone into neutral corners.
"I can't promise you anything," I said. "I gotta take this where it leads." Then I smiled and said, "Still love me?"
"Jesus!" she snarled.
"An easy mistake. But no, I'm Shane," I teased.
We got home at ten and found Chooch studying in his makeshift room out in the garage. "Have fun?" he asked.
Neither of us answered.
I got a beer while Alexa went to work in her office, answering e-mails. I was sitting in the living room, trying to focus on the eleven o'clock news, when Delfina came in and stood in the doorway.
"Shane?" she said, and I glanced over at her. She had her hair pulled back in a barrette and was holding our adopted cat, Franco, stroking his orange and white fur softly.
"How you doing, Del?" I said. "Thought you had a big chemistry test tomorrow." She was a junior, and chemistry was definitely not her best subject.
"I do," she smiled, "but I need to talk to you about Chooch."
I grabbed the remote and turned the volume down.
"Come on."
I led her out onto the patio. She followed silently behind. We settled into two chairs in my favorite spot overlooking the narrow canals with their Disneyesque bridges. She put Franco down and immediately the marmalade cat began to wind around my ankles.
"I've been talking to Chooch about that job coaching kids," she said.
"What's he think?"
"A lot of things are bothering him right now. He's afraid if he doesn't stay with his own football practices at Harvard - Westlake his coach will get angry and not play him, even when his foot heals. I told him that is not so. He is much better than his replacement. But he is unsure. He's also afraid if he takes over Mr. Rojas's team and doesn't do a good job you'll be disappointed. He wants you to respect what he does, but he is torn. He's afraid to make a decision. I'm telling him no decision is the same as a decision, because they'll get
"No. I trust the DNA match. What I think is, maybe a sheriff or ATF agent knew something about Smiley, or maybe Smiley had something on one of them. He gave the Arcadia P . D . a DNA sample, maybe he raped some cop's sister and this was disguised payback. Maybe he had knowledge about some cop's misdeeds and needed to be silenced. Somebody is lying about that warrant, and I'm looking for the motive. I just want to keep my options open."
"Maybe ATF just screwed up and that's why they're lying," she said, voicing the solution both the LASD and LAPD were rooting for.
"I still want to see if he ever applied to our academy."
"Shane, don't make me order you to do this my way."
"And don't force me to disobey my division commander's direct order. At the center of this, something's very wrong. Smiley hates cops, but he's walking around pretending to be one? He has boxes of C-four, nobody knows where it came from. The vest, the bomb shelter, it's all inconsistent. It needs to be looked at."
She studied me for a long moment. "I'm standing on top of a land mine here. I don't need you to tell me how much powder is in the mine. I need you to disarm the damn thing."
"Honey, you're coming at this from a totally parochial position. You already have a theory and you want my investigation to confirm it. That's not the way to go about it."
She sighed and her expression softened.
"I'm through investigating Hidden Ranch anyway," I said to mollify her. "I'm now working my way from the center out. Sheriffs are still in control of all the lab and CSI evidence. I talked to a labbie in their forensics division named Robyn DeYoung. She's the evidence tech for Hidden Ranch and she isn' t t oo eager to follow through on any of my requests. That has to change. I want them to look for the dog and the bomb shelter."
"Okay. I'll make you a deal. I'll unstick that, and I'll see if Smiley's in our academy apps, but you have to start concentrating on whether ATF or the sheriffs are lying."
We both sat back in our chairs and stared across the linen tablecloth like fighters who had gone into neutral corners.
"I can't promise you anything," I said. "I gotta take this where it leads." Then I smiled and said, "Still love me?"
"Jesus!" she snarled.
"An easy mistake. But no, I'm Shane," I teased.
We got home at ten and found Chooch studying in his makeshift room out in the garage. "Have fun?" he asked.
Neither of us answered.
I got a beer while Alexa went to work in her office, answering e-mails. I was sitting in the living room, trying to focus on the eleven o'clock news, when Delfina came in and stood in the doorway.
"Shane?" she said, and I glanced over at her. She had her hair pulled back in a barrette and was holding our adopted cat, Franco, stroking his orange and white fur softly.
"How you doing, Del?" I said. "Thought you had a big chemistry test tomorrow." She was a junior, and chemistry was definitely not her best subject.
"I do," she smiled, "but I need to talk to you about Chooch."
I grabbed the remote and turned the volume down.
"Come on."
I led her out onto the patio. She followed silently behind. We settled into two chairs in my favorite spot overlooking the narrow canals with their Disneyesque bridges. She put Franco down and immediately the marmalade cat began to wind around my ankles.
"I've been talking to Chooch about that job coaching kids," she said.
"What's he think?"
"A lot of things are bothering him right now. He's afraid if he doesn't stay with his own football practices at Harvard - Westlake his coach will get angry and not play him, even when his foot heals. I told him that is not so. He is much better than his replacement. But he is unsure. He's also afraid if he takes over Mr. Rojas's team and doesn't do a good job you'll be disappointed. He wants you to respect what he does, but he is torn. He's afraid to make a decision. I'm telling him no decision is the same as a decision, because they'll get
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