Chapter Text
A half hour later the doorbell rang. With a loud inhale and raised eyebrows, Mike glanced pointedly at his amused partner as he crossed the room, turned the lock and opened the door. A smiling young man who did look somewhat like Steve was standing on the stoop wearing a red-and-white vertical striped uniform jacket and white straw boater with ‘Shakey’s’ written in white letters on a red background around the front of the crown. He was holding a large cardboard pizza box and he looked decidedly uncomfortable.
“Um, Mr. Stone?” he asked, sticking to the script Rudy Olsen had obviously supplied him with, “I have your pizza, sir.”
Smiling and nodding, playing his part, Mike took a step back and opened the door wider. “Great. Come on in, son.” Waiting till the young man had stepped into the house, he closed the door.
Steve, instantly realizing how awkward the young officer felt, stepped closer and held out his right hand. “Inspector Keller. In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m the one you’re trading places with tonight.”
Trying to smoothly transfer the pizza box onto in left hand so he could return the shake, the dark-haired newcomer started slightly when he felt the box being taken from his grasp by the grinning lieutenant.
“Relax, son, we both know this wasn’t your idea,” Mike laughed softly as he crossed to the coffee table and set the box down.
Chuckling, Steve shook the stunned young man’s hand. “Call me Steve.” He nodded over his shoulder. “And for tonight, he’s Mike.” He took a step back. “Rudy was right, you do look a little like me,” he snorted as he started to roll his sleeves down, pleased to note that they were both wearing black pants, which would make the switch easier.
“Ah, Jason Sullivan,” the young man stammered, reaching for the buttons on the somewhat garish striped jacket, all of them knowing they had to make the switch quickly in case anyone was watching.
“You a newbie?” Steve asked.
“Ah, yes, sir. Graduated from the academy two months ago. I’m still on probation.”
Mike laughed. “Well, welcome to the department. But I’ve gotten point out, it’s not gonna be all glamorous work like this…”
Steve glanced at him and chuckled as he finished doing up his cuffs.
As Sullivan handed the jacket to Steve, he nodded pointedly. “The keys are in the right pocket. You can’t miss the car; it’s doubled parked…” He glanced at Mike apologetically. “I couldn’t find a space and I thought, well… I’ve seen pizza drivers double park before, especially out here.”
Mike smiled. “You’re okay - these streets are wide enough.”
Obviously relieved, Sullivan turned his attention back to Steve. “The Shakey’s is on 16th near Bryant. You’re to go back there and go in, then exit out the back. Sergeant Healey will be waiting in the alley in another car to take you to Headquarters.” He shrugged. “That’s all they told me.”
Steve, who had been watching his young doppelganger closely while putting on the jacket and boater, smiled. “That’s all I need to know.” He turned to Mike. “See you in 24 hours.”
Nodding worriedly, the older man moved to the door, putting his hand on the knob. “For god’s sake, be careful. And if you get a chance tomorrow, give me a call and let me know if it’s her, okay?”
Steve nodded. “I will.” He glanced at Sullivan and nodded his thanks. “Enjoy the pizza,” he chuckled as Mike opened the door and, keeping his head down slightly so the boater obscured his face, he stepped out onto the landing and started down the steep concrete steps.
Wanting to watch until Steve was in the car and out of sight, Mike knew that that behaviour would seem suspicious to anyone watching so he closed the door, resisting the urge to cross to the picture window and look out. Instead, he turned to his unexpected houseguest.
“So… ah, Jason, is it?”
The young man nodded quickly. “Uh yes, sir.”
“Shall we see if this pizza of yours is any good?”
# # # # #
The car was a small burgundy Toyota Corolla that had seen better days, but it was waiting for him at the curb, it started right away with only a minor shudder and cough, and he was soon on his way down the block and around the corner.
As he drove the short distance to the pizza parlour his eyes never left the mirrors, side and rear, and by the time he got to 16th and Bryant, he was convinced they had pulled it off without a hitch. He parked the Corolla at the curb and hustled into the store.
There were a couple of customers waiting at the counter and four employees behind and in the small kitchen, but nobody gave him a second glance as he headed into the back storage room and straight for the delivery entrance. He pushed the panic bar and the door opened out into a narrow dark alley that seemed empty, then car lights came on, an engine roared to life and scant seconds later a forest green Galaxie slid to a quiet stop beside him. He opened the door and got in, the car taking off almost before he got the door closed.
“Well, that seemed to go smooth,” Healey chuckled from behind the wheel.
# # # # #
When Mike emerged from the kitchen with a couple of plates, cutlery, paper napkins and two cans in his hands, Sullivan was still standing in the same spot as when Steve had left, obviously nervous and unsure about what to do.
Taking pity on the shell-shocked young man, Mike put his burden down on the coffee table and gestured at the couch. “Listen, Jason, you and I are going to be roomies for the next twenty-four hours so you’re gonna need to relax, son. I don’t know what Captain Olsen may have told you, but I don’t bite, especially when I’m not on duty.”
“Uh, of course not, sir… I mean, he didn’t tell me anything like that, sir… I mean -“
“Okay, rule number one, son, don’t call me ‘sir’. Like Steve said, I’m Mike… for the next twenty-four hours anyway. After that it can be Lieutenant Stone but for now, while you’re my houseguest, it’s Mike. Okay?”
“Yes, s-… yes.” Sullivan nodded, attempting a relaxed smile. He crossed awkwardly to the sofa and sat.
With a sympathetic smile, Mike put a plate in front of the flustered young man then picked up one of the cans. “Beer?”
“Ah, yes, si-… ah, yeah, thanks.”
Chuckling, Mike put the can on the table in front of Sullivan then opened the pizza box. He smiled, pleased to see that Olsen had remembered his fondness for salty little fish. “You like anchovies, Jason?”
“Anchovies?” He sounded confused, then followed the older man’s pointed glance at the pizza and grinned. “I sure do!”
Now positively beaming, Mike tore a slice of the pie free and put it on his own plate before he sat. “Well then I just have one more question for the moment.” Sullivan looked at him warily. “Do you play crib?”
# # # # #
Steve and Healey had spent the better part of the night in the bowels of 850 Bryant, grabbing a couple of hours sleep on the cots in a room on the fifth floor. At 4 am, they were awakened by Devitt and Olsen, then Healey was released and Devitt, dressed in civvies and who was to accompany Steve to Seattle, led the small procession down to the garage where the homicide inspector, now wearing a black baseball cap and windbreaker, laid down in the back seat as the captain started towards the airport.
Finally satisfied that they weren’t being followed, Steve eventually sat up, neither man concerned that their slight of hand had been discovered as they parked, walked into the terminal and boarded the short flight up north.
They had spoken very little since they’d left Bryant Street, both a little too preoccupied with the task at hand to make small talk, but safely on the plane, with Steve slumped in the window seat, baseball cap low over his eyes, they began to relax.
Devitt smiled at the stewardess as she set two steaming hot cardboard cups of coffee on the tray tables in front of them. “Thank you.” Steve just nodded. The captain picked his cup up and blew on it before glancing at the man beside him. “So, ah, do you think it’s really her?”
Steve stared at his own cup then shrugged slowly. “I have no idea. I mean, like Mike said, cheque kiting sounds like something she’d do to get money in a hurry, and she’s honey-tongued, that’s for sure. And god knows she’s a chameleon. But I don’t know… if it is her, how in the world did she allow herself to get caught… I mean, she’s been eluding us for over a year now…” He shrugged again. “I’m hoping it’s her… but in my heart of hearts, I think we’re going to be going home empty-handed.”
Devitt had listened without moving, and he waited a couple of long beats before he took his first sip of coffee. Then he sighed. “Well, I kinda have my doubts too… but it’s worth a shot…”
“Yeah,” Steve said softly, raising the coffee cup and taking a careful sip.
Suddenly, and incongruously, Devitt chuckled. “I, ah, I wonder how Mike got along with his unexpected houseguest last night.”
Steve laughed. “Well, I have a feeling poor probie Sullivan will go on to have a spectacular career or else he’ll be quitting the force before the end of the day. It could go either way.”
They both laughed, enjoying the respite, brief as it was.
# # # # #
The Seattle Police Department had everything set up when Steve and Devitt arrived just after 9 a.m. An officer in plain clothes had met them at the airport and driven them to the garage under police headquarters on 5th Street. Captain Richard Menard and Lieutenant Mark Gardner met them as they got out of the car and, after brief introductions, escorted them to the elevators.
As the elevator car began to ascend, Menard addressed his San Francisco counterparts. “We have her in one of the interrogation rooms. One of the guys from Bunco is pretending he’s trying to get more information from her about her victims, but he’s just killing time.” He chuckled when he noticed the two pairs of suddenly worried eyes. “Don’t worry, Luis knows what’s doing. She’ll have no idea she’s being played. And she knows we have to turn her loose later this morning, so she’s keeping mum. He’s playing the desperate cop knowing that she’s holding all the cards.”
The elevator arrived and Gardner led the way out and to the right. Steve took off the baseball cap, stuffed it in his windbreaker pocket then ran his hand through his hair. Gardner eventually stopped in front of an unmarked door and turned to Steve. “This is it,” he smiled encouragingly. He and Menard had been briefed on the events of the past year, and what was at stake here for the young inspector. “You ready to do this?”
His eyebrows slightly furrowed, Steve shot a glance at Devitt then nodded. “Yeah… let’s do it.”
Gardner opened the door.