White Night

Chapter 3

Connors looked up from her files as Detective Ross arrived, sat down at his desk, and stared through the computer screen. She checked her watch: 11:00 pm. Only an hour had passed since she managed to block the Argon file from her mind and drowned herself in the paperwork surrounding her, but it felt like five.

Ross glanced back at her, his brow tightly wrinkled under his dark blond hair. He looked away quickly as she met his gaze. He wouldn't be excited about her as a partner, either. Freshly back from injury, she had a reputation for being difficult, obsessive, and after her last case, possessing an almost fatal lack of judgment.

The low voices of her colleagues in the break room haunted her and clawed at her confidence.

"Connors should've jumped sooner..."

"She didn't have to do it..."

"Detective Connors!" Captain Reyes barked, motioning Connors into her office.

The captain smiled as she sat down and flipped her thick black curls over her shoulders. Reyes was trying to sell her on this new partnership, but she was wasting her time; she'd already made it clear that this assignment wasn't optional for either of them.

Reyes had snatched Ross from under the nose of Captain Ward at the 64th. Both women and captains of busy houses, you'd be forgiven for thinking that they'd help each other, but the pressure for good Compstat performance numbers and the fight for premium resources was stronger than feminine kinship. Unfortunately, Connors wasn't sure that Ross was a good resource.

Captain Reyes didn't look up from her computer screen. "You have your first case together. CSU's already on scene."

"Yes, ma'am."

Any excitement at getting her own caseload again was quickly flattened as she thought of her new partner. Reyes must have read her face.

"Connors, I know you have reservations about Ross, but I spoke with the captain at his last precinct and he had one of the best clearance rates there."

She smiled back, but she'd done her own research. He'd also been investigated for killing a suspect and now was dangerously reluctant to act under pressure, according to his previous partner.

The captain grasped her glasses and looked over the top of them. "I consider him an asset to the department."

She must have, to risk pissing off Ward. Reyes was tough and a smart tactician, but Captain Ward was a street fighter.

"And if you recall, Connors, you've had your share of challenges with partners."

She was never allowed to forget it. Assessments and reviews constantly referenced her "lack of patience," the first smudges on a formerly bright career. Her clearance rate used to be among the best in the house even if she was "a pill" to work with.

Connors sighed quietly. "Those were mostly rookies, ma'am."

Her brief stint as a mentoring detective had yielded a stack of new adjectives to her personnel file.

Reyes rattled them off: "'Caustic...obsessive...relentless...' Sound familiar?"

Another sigh seeped from her lungs as she looked around the office at the newspaper articles hanging in gilt frames. The criminal history of New York was on those walls.

One wall held legendary collars by the department: George P. Metesky, David Berkowitz (Son of Sam) and Joel Rifkin. The other wall held the department's misses, the Fraunces Tavern bombing and Eppolito and Caracappa, two NYPD detectives convicted of killing for the Mafia.