Time Frame: Streets of Baltimore in 1995
 

 Kay Howard hung up the phone and twisted her red hair into a knot, then let it fall to the center of her back.  As she took a quick scan around the squadroom, her eyes narrowed then lit on Mike Kellerman, the only detective sitting at his desk.   Her desk sat just inside the doorway and was as good a vantage point as any for tracking what went on in the busy Homicide unit.  Busy.  Yeah.  No kidding.  For four years in a row, Baltimore had topped the previous years record breaking murder rate.  And 1995 looked to be no different.

 "Hey, Mike, you and Lewis wrap up that case this morning?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.  She made it her business to know what was going on in the unit.  It was her business to know.

 "Yeah, Sarge," he snapped his gum as he tapped the typewriter keys with his index fingers.  "Why?"

 "Take a ride with me, hmm?"  Kay was already standing at his desk and handing him his coat knowing he would go.  And not just because she said so.  It was as much Detective Kellerman's nature, as any influence she had on him.  In just a short time she had sized him up.  He was a better than average homicide detective, could outsmart any smartass in the box, and he was generally eager to please.  Kay liked that about him.  It was refreshing.  After working side by side with Beau Felton for all those years;  putting up with Frank Pembleton's bravado, Tim Bayliss' sensitivity, and Munch's ever-present cynicism, not to mention Lewis' cool, but aloof hipness; it was a nice change.

 "Where we going, Sarge?"  Mike asked enthusiastically.  "Lunch?"

 Kay lifted her brow and spoke softly, "We got a call, Mike."

 "What?  You and me?" he asked with a slight cock of his head.

 Kay cocked hers further.  "You got a problem with that?"

 "Me?  No way."  Mike pushed his arm into the sleeve of his jacket, as Kay made her way towards the elevator with him striding close behind.  "I mean that sounds like a way better idea then sitting around here typing reports."  He paused then sighed quietly, looking to her for some hint of understanding.  "Where the hell is Lewis?  Does he always take off when it's time to wrap up the paperwork?"

 "Yeah, well, maybe he's out getting you lunch, hmm?" she smiled wryly with a glimmer in her eye.

 Nodding towards the open door, they boarded the elevator and she pressed the button.  Mike returned a half-hearted smile, as he slid his hands in his pockets and watched the numbers light up to the first floor.

 The Cavalier pulled out of the parking garage onto Thames Street with Mike Kellerman behind the wheel.  It was a soggy day, and a light rain had been falling off and on all morning.  Mike adjusted the wipers to a slower speed then settled in for the drive.
"So how do you like being Sarge, Sarge?"

 "It has its moments," Kay answered mindlessly, as she was already considering the brief details of the dispatch report in her head.

 Mike didn't pick up on her distraction, but continued spiritedly.  "Personally, I don't think I'd ever take the sergeant's exam.  All the OT without the pay, who needs that?"  He glanced over towards her, then reconsidered the remark.  "I mean, not that its not a good idea."

 "Some would argue its not worth it." she paused.  "Munch for one," she snickered to herself, still thinking of his lame excuse for backing out of the exam.

 "Yeah," Kellerman chuckled lightly.  "Well, Munch has an opinion about everything."  He glanced to his left and switched lanes, then looked back towards Kay. "Or so he says."

 "Yeah, that's Munch all right, always saying something about something," Kay hummed as they eased around a corner towards the crime scene.

 Mike nodded as he pulled a pack of Marlboro's out of his pocket.   "You mind if I smoke?  I mean, I won't if you'd rather."

 "Smoke?  Go ahead.  It'll be like old times," she glanced his way, then out the window as she thought about the years of riding along with Beau Felton.  She missed working with him, missed working murders, missed the street.  OK, so ranking in as sergeant had it's benefits.  But if she could indulge herself with a real investigation now and then, that would be OK, too.

  Mike shook a cigarette out of the pack and pulled the lighter out of the dash, taking a deep puff and exhaling as a cloud billowed around him.  "Your old partner smoked?"

 She nodded. "Hmm, yeah.  Along with a few other vices."

 "Oh," he nodded, then added cockily, "so, he was a vice cop."  Kellerman chuckled at his attempt at humor, but it was lost on Kay, as she mulled over the few descriptive facts that dispatch had called in.  He took another puff, then smashed the burning tip into the ashtray.  "I should quit," he shrugged in disgust, as they slowed for a light.  "But it's not that easy. I mean, I've tried,"  he sighed heavily. "There's nothing worse than having to put up with your partners faults, is there?"

 Sergeant Howard wrinkled her brows.  "You and Lewis getting along OK?"

 "In arson we're used to working alone, but I never had a problem working with anyone either,"  Mike answered matter-of-factly.  "Why?  Did he say something?  About partnering with me, I mean?"

 "No.  No," Kay smiled over towards him, "All's I'm saying is it just looks like you and me are gonna be working the street together, that's all."

 The Cavalier pulled up close to the crime scene, behind the beating lights of the patrol cars, the ambulances, and the ME wagon.  A small scattering of locals were mulling around the area, interested more in the interruption of their own activity than in what had happened.  "So, you wanna make the call?" Mike asked as he raised the yellow tape for Kay to scoot under it.

 "Hmm?" Kay returned a puzzled look.

 He ducked under with her, then let go of the tape.  It loosened from what it was attached to and drifted towards the ground.   Mike turned as it fell into a puddle of water behind him, shrugged, then picked up his pace towards Kay.  "You know, does it look like a dunker or a...."

 Kay cast a quick glance towards him, then out towards what was visible of the crime scene.  "Well, I don't know Mike," she said quietly.  "It's too early to tell, isn't it?  Haven't  looked at a body, spoken to a witness, examined any evidence.  We don't even know for sure if we've got a murder here," she outlined her rationale.

 "Yeah.  I know," Kellerman's voice broke.  "But me and Lewis, we have this thing, you know, as we pull up to the crime scene, before we cross under the tape,  we take turns calling whether it's gonna be a dunker or a whodunit.  The other one kicks in 5 bucks if they're right."

 Kay shook her head, as a smile emerged lighting her expression.  "Oh yeah?  So what are you gonna do with the pot?"

 Mike shrugged, "I don't know.  No one's ever had to pay up yet."

 Kay rolled her eyes as they both joined the first officer on the scene.  A small group had gathered around the wide perimeter of the self-serve car-wash, while others gathered together around the street.  Two cars were sitting nose to nose; one inside the cement bay where water continued to spray from a broken hose on the wand, and the other edged up close right in front of it.

 Mike made a quick assessment, looked to Kay and then up towards the darkening sky.  The clouds were heavier and a steadier rain began to fall.  He noted the fine mist that covered the cement bay.  "We should've brought some rain gear," he uttered under his breath.

 "Sergeant Howard," the patrol officer nodded towards Kay.  She smiled when she recognized him,  then gestured towards Mike.  "Officer Beck, Detective Kellerman."

 Mike nodded politely, then got down to business.  "So, what's up?  Or should I say, what's down?"   He lowered his eyes towards the body, as he made a couple of mental notes.

 "Looks like this fella came in to do his car and got done in instead," the officer replied.

 Kay stretched to look around Kellerman, as she eyed the body, laying sprawled between the two cars, then glanced around the surrounding area.  Quickly she determined there was no one within the perimeter of the crime scene except police personnel, and no one that appeared to be waiting along the tape looking to make a statement.

 Kellerman opened his notebook and pressed on.   "Do we have a name?"

 The officer rolled his shoulders.  "He does.  We don't.  Not exactly.  No wallet."

 "So, someone pulls in, pops John Doe a few times, grabs his wallet, but leaves the fancy-assed car?"  Kellerman outlined the deed in a quick synopsis, noting the obvious worth of one vehicle and the not so worthiness of the other.

 Kay drew some of her own conclusions,  based on the officer's comment.  "So, who's the car registered to?"

 "Lea Fleming.  We ran a check and another Fleming came up at the same address.  She has a son lives at home. About his age."   Officer Beck gestured towards the lifeless body at their feet.

 "OK, so what, he's maybe twenty-five, twenty-six?" Kay squatted to get a closer look at the face.

 "Twenty-three," he answered.  "Wallace."

 "So, we assume this Wally still lived with his mama and was doing her a favor detailing her car?" Mike surmised, as he reached in his pocket for a cigarette.  He pushed it back into his pocket and slipped a piece of gum out instead.

 "Not quite," the officer continued.  Mike unwrapped the gum and folded it into his mouth.

 Kay thought a moment, then asked for further explanation.  "You got some more details on that?"

 Beck looked at one, then the other.  "Wallace," he paused, "was out on bond."

 "Bond?" she restated with interest.  "For what?"

 "I'd check with the State's Attorney on that.  He's had a whole string of charges, so I'm not sure which one the state had him on this time."

 Howard glanced towards the car nosed up to Fleming's vehicle.  "Did you get an ID on this one?" She appreciated the attention Officer Beck had already given.  A homicide detective felt lucky if the scene was secured properly, let alone if the officer had taken any initiative in determining some of the basic facts.

 Officer Beck eyed her.  "The car was stolen.  Two days ago.  Right out from a student parking lot at BCCC."

 Kay glanced at the car noting the sticker in the window.  "The community college?"

 Beck nodded.

 "Anyone see who drove it in?" Kellerman snapped his gum, his expression revealing his lack of any expectation in that regard.

 Kay looked towards Mike, after she searched the blank faces on the far side of the tape.  "What do you bet, just Wallace, hmm?"

 "Five bucks?" Kellerman eyed her.   "And you're on."  Pairs of empty eyes stared back at them.  In this neighborhood, he figured he could finally ante something into the pot.

***
 There was nothing in Lea Fleming's life that wasn't hard.  But raising two boys after Deon had left was far easier than with him hanging around.  He'd spend his days working, but his nights drinking, then come home and take it out on her.  The days had been brutal, but the night's worse.  And she had paid the price.  In bruises, abrasions, and broken bones that often landed her in the emergency room.  It became customary for the boys to see their mother left bloodied and beaten, while their common law father sobered up passed out wherever he fell.  So, when he left, she never looked back.  She spent her days working as a patient aide and her nights taking classes to become an LPN.  That meant that Wallace and his younger brother were left to fend for themselves, and she regretted that, but they did alright.  It was easy to cast a blind eye towards them for some of their boyish pranks and she never quite understood why everyone else didn't do the same.

 She always gave her boys the benefit of the doubt. Wallace in particular had had a tough go of it, but Lea kept giving him chance after chance.  While it might have bought him some time to straighten out things on his own, it eventually led to the unexpected visit by two homicide detectives.

 No, she didn't know where he was going.  Yes, he did live with her, but it was temporary until he could get on his feet again.  Yes, he'd moved back again several months ago, but his girlfriend was hard to get along with.  No, she didn't know of anyone that would want to hurt him.  He had gotten up around eleven and left quickly, taking her car.  She had been sleeping and heard the motor race as it pulled away from the curb.  She was sure he planned to be back in time for her to punch in for the second shift at John Hopkins Hospital.  And no, she wasn't sure of the details of his recent run-ins with the law.  Whatever it was, she was sure it was a misunderstanding and he'd straighten it out.

 Kay glanced over towards Mike as they pulled away from the curb along the row houses.  "Well that went well," she sighed to herself.

 "Yeah, well, it's never easy, is it?" He glanced her way as they stopped at the stop sign, recognizing her experience over his.  "I mean, no matter how many times you do it, it's like the first time, awkward and a little uncomfortable."

 "Yeah, well you got a point, but you can't let it get you down, hmm."   They sat silently for a few moments, until Mike broke the silence.  "You know, something's not right."

 Kay snickered.  "Well of course, something's not right.  We just told a mother her son was dead."

 "No, no, it's not that," Mike's eyes darkened.   "Let's stop back at the scene. We're going right past it anyway."

 They pulled up to the cement bays where kids had grabbed the yellow strips of tape and circled it around as a play area for themselves.  Paper was scattered around the playing field, as was broken glass and other remnants of the neighborhood's poverty.   Kay exited first and the crisp slam of her door was followed by Kellerman's.

 "What are we looking for, Mike?" she stood scanning the scene they had left several hours earlier.

 Mike shrugged towards Kay.  "I don't know."

 She joined him by the mouth of the cement enclosure where Fleming's car had sat.  "Well, there's nothing here that we didn't see this morning."

 "No, I guess not," Kellerman answered as his eyes settled on the coinbox.  Sinking his hand in his pocket he pulled out a couple of quarters, then walked towards it avoiding the spray.  "Just as I thought," he shrugged as he played with the coins, unable to push them into the slot.  "It's jammed.  We contact the proprietor and I bet it hasn't worked for months."

 Kay looked around at the puddles and noted the drizzle that was beginning to fall again.  "Probably not a good day to wash the car anyway, Mike."

 "Exactly,"  he uttered.  "Who washes their car in the rain?"

 Kay followed the remark.  "He was here meeting someone," she whispered under her breath.  Mike nodded towards her, as a little boy raised a hand and pointed a pretend gun towards his friend.  "Bang bang, you dead," he said as his friend hit the ground.  Mike looked around, then back on the kids as a steady rain again began to fall.

 By the time Detective Kellerman and Sergeant Howard returned to the squadroom, the rest of the detectives were settled in finishing up the last of their phone calls and paper work before they headed to the Waterfront.  You could always count on having a cocktail mentality by the time you punched out for the day.  Kay had just rounded the corner from the hall when Lewis stopped her.  "Hey, Sarge, what's this 'bout you and Kellerman working the street together?  You stealin' my partner when I ain't even got him broke in yet?"

 "What? You think you're the only one that can show the new guy the ropes?" she asked as a smug smile crossed her lips.

 "Nah, it wann't that *exactly*," Lewis shrugged it off, not really owning up to what he meant.

 "Yeah?  So, what?  You and Mike have a few cases under your belt and you think you're married now?" Kay teased further, her eyes now more into the smug expression than a smile.  "You two getting along that well?"   She cocked her head slightly.

 Lewis shifted his weight as he rubbed his hand across his chin.  "Yeah, well, you know, only fools fall in love, but we been hanging in together." He paused, "And hanging out."  Quantifying the remark further, he added,  "*Some* ."

 Kay smiled, although more to herself.  "Yeah, well, he went down to auto to check something out.  Why don't you go down there and see what's taking him so long, hmm?"

 Lewis seemed satisfied and headed to the elevators.  He pushed the button and waited until the doors slid open, then entered after taking a quick look around.  As the doors closed and he tapped the number to the first floor,  Mike topped the stairs and rounded the corner just missing him.

 He had just left the Auto Theft Unit where a young man was sitting at a corner desk on the phone. He was casually dressed with dark straight hair that tipped up on the ends.  It was swept back off his face and was heavy with gel.  Just from the tone Mike heard of the one-way conversation, he figured maybe the kid was doing community service or volunteering for the unit.  He looked like the type that could find himself in trouble easy enough judging from his streetwise attitude and look.  "Hey," Mike greeted him.

 "Whatdya need?" the tone echoed coarsely with a cocky edge, as he hung up the phone.

 "Anyone back from lunch yet?"  Kellerman looked around the unit, obviously aware that no one else was there, but asking just the same.

 "You're looking at him.  Whatdya need?" he asked again.

 Mike answered casually.  "I need someone to run down a car figured in on a homicide."

 "I can do that," the kid answered assuredly.

 "That's OK," Kellerman shrugged him off.  "I'm really looking for a detective."

 "Yeah, like I said, I can help," his tone was edgy against the insult, as he stood to meet him eye to eye.

 "Really?" Kellerman looked surprised.  "So, you're a detective?"

 "Yeah," he huffed.  "That's what I said."

 "Mike Kellerman.  Homicide," he offered his hand.

 The detective tapped Mike's hand in a street-type greeting.  "So, you hot shots get on a scene with one of our stolen vehicles and you don't call the auto squad?" he continued the attitude, putting him on the spot.  "I heard somethin' about that this morning."

 "The crime techs were there.  They rolled it into the lab for you.  You'll get your evidence," Kellerman responded coolly.
"What'd you say your name was?"

 "I didn't," he answered with a wiseass tone.   "Falsone.  Detective Falsone," he emphasized the word 'detective'.

 "Yeah well, Falsone, what do you got on that 91 Tempo?" Mike zeroed in on the case, deciding it wasn't worth the effort to get into an argument about whose territory was whose.

 "Stolen two days ago?" he clarified to Mike's nod.  "Not my case, " Falsone shrugged, although the words trailed off.

 Mike cocked his head, with a snicker.  "So, you can't help?"

 "I didn't say that," Falsone snapped back, making his point as he swaggered to another detective's desk scattered with manila folders. Falsone fanned them out, but didn't find what he was looking for.

 Impatience edged over Kellerman's face, as he stepped forward towards the desk, then slipped a cigarette out of his pocket.  With two hands he patted his pockets for his lighter, as he bit the tip of the filter waiting to light it.  Falsone slipped his out of his pocket and tossed it to Mike, as the younger man wrinkled his eyes in thought.

 "Thanks," Mike took a deep puff and then tossed the lighter back to Falsone.  "Now you got that folder or what?"

***
 "Howard.  Kellerman," Giardello barked from his office door, then turned and marched back towards his desk.  It was time to converge in Gee's office, and he only needed to call once.  All cases eventually came under the lieutenant's scrutiny, and each of the detectives knew that.  But some were only worth a passing glance as he paced past the board on his way to the coffeeroom, while others required a casual comment directed toward the assigned detectives as they rummaged through a pile of tips at their desks.  And then there were the ones that weren't quite red balls, but at some point required formal discussion behind closed doors.  This case fit into the latter.

 Ed Danvers had already taken a place in one of the chairs angled towards Gee's desk.  Mike gestured for Kay to take the other, while he perched on the credenza along the wall.  They both shared a casual greeting with Danvers, then focused their attention towards Gee, who hadn't wasted any time getting down to business.

 "Where are we on the Fleming case?" Giardello pointed a finger towards his second in command.  Kay had already given him the run-down, but Gee asked the question to get things rolling.

 "Well, as I told you, sir," she looked towards Mike who sat with his arms folded across his chest, obligingly letting her give the details.  "Mike and I spoke to the mother, Lea Fleming.  She of course, denies all misgivings about her son."

 Mike tried, but couldn't hold back his sarcastic remark, "Who's obviously been suckered all his life into doing very bad things."

 "Oh yeah, mis-judged and mistaken," Ed interrupted.  "We have hard evidence on this one," Danvers reassured himself, as much as the others.

 "Not according to his mama," Kellerman quipped.

 Kay continued.  "So, anyway, he just moved back home.  His live in girlfriend kicked him out."

 "We spoke to her, too.  Says she hasn't spoken to him in weeks," Mike added.  "She seems to have lost her fatalistic urge."

 "The cops were there several times a month, breaking up their domestic disputes," Kay explained.

 "OK," Giardello redirected the discussion.  "So we know that this Wallace wasn't a fine upstanding citizen, but what about the murder?"

 "We're tracking down what we can off the car, sir," Kay looked towards Danvers, then Giardello.   "But nothing so far."

 "And no witnesses have come forward, no good tips, and nothing that obviously ties anyone to the crime, except the car, " Mike added with resignation.

 "What's autosquad have to say about it?" Giardello asked impatiently.

 "Their attitude is they hope we finger a suspect so they can wrap up their case based on ours.  They look like they're going to skate on it and see what we come up with," Kellerman answered begrudgingly.

 Gee glanced at each of them, "Whatever happened with departments working cohesively together?"

 Danvers eyed the two detectives ignoring the rhetorical question.  "Well, let me fill you both in on a little something that just might help."

 Howard shifted in her seat closer to Danvers, as Kellerman uncrossed his arms and straightened up to pay close attention.

 Danvers words were deliberate.  "Wallace Fleming was picked up 6 months ago on a robbery warrant, lifting stolen goods from a local warehouse.  We had him on a felony charge;  lock, stock and barrel.  His fence at the time was someone we had had an eye on for quite some time and it didn't take long to recognize a connection.  Fleming had been working for a trucking company that had been figured in on multi-dollar settlements for lost and stolen cargo over several months.  After we talked to him, he admitted to driving some of the set ups.  He'd take a truck in,  to a back lot or down a quiet street, fake a break down or some other reason to leave it, where it sat idly, then was pilfered clean.  His hands never touched the payload, but," he paused and looked first at Kay, then Mike,  "we now have him fingered in on the scheme."

 "Oh.  So chances are this wasn't a random hit, after all?" Kellerman stated the obvious with a skewed smile.

 Danvers passed a serious look towards Kellerman, then delivered the rest of the news.  "He pled down to a misdemeanor and was waiting to testify against his former boss, Nash Trucking."

 "Well, we never really considered it was random," Kay added confidently.  "But you think they'd stoop to murder?"

 "To save their ass?" Kellerman highlighted the remark with a snicker, then offered another spin on things.  "Well, that wasn't exactly Wally's only problem."

 Danvers looked interested, "Why is that?"

 Kay offered the details.  "We're certain that he was meeting someone.  We ran a check on the phone records.  There was none coming or going from the Fleming house from 6 p.m. the night before, although Wallace got paged about ten p.m..  We don't know why he wouldn't have called from the house, but he left and told his mother he was going down to the corner.  We ran a check and he returned the call from the pay phone down the street."

 This was new information and Giardello was interested. "To what number?"

 Kay offered what she knew.  "A cell phone," she paused, "which we just found out was stolen with the car."

 Giardello challenged the remark.  "So, how does that point to another problem?"

 Kay clarified.  "Wallace's ex-girlfriend worked the cafeteria at Baltimore City Community College."

 There was a slight pause, until Giardello spoke.  "OK, so we've got two workable theories here, possibly two motives, and no facts to back up either."  Looking towards Kay he said, "You and Kellerman work the girlfriend.  Fill Lewis and Munch in on the trucking company.  Let's work this over hard, before the press does us.  All we need is for word to get out that we can't protect our witnesses and there'll be a run on amnesia before cases go to trial."

 Danvers snorted quietly under his breath.  "That's one way to clear the dockets."

***
 Afternoon shift was already settled at their desks, when Lewis, Kellerman, Howard, and Munch took to the stairs and headed out to Thames Street.

 "What say," Lewis tempted the group as they assembled briefly on the walk in front of the door, "the four of us hightail it to the Waterfront and worry about the case tomorrow at daybreak, hunh?"

 "Giardello wants us on it tonight," Kay answered firmly.  "Besides, you were just saying you wanted to work a case with Kellerman."

 Mike chortled towards them, as he lit a cigarette.  "Yeah, until it gets labor intensive or inconvenient."

 "Hey, it's the happy hour," Lewis growled defensively.  "Anyways, you pulled me with Munch."

 "Yeah,"  Kellerman jested as a puff of smoke circled him, "so, there goes the happy."

 "Take it up with Gee, hmm?" Kay answered as she turned towards the parking garage.

 John entered the fray, noting the quibbling going on.  In his usual sardonic tone, he eyed her.  "Any second thoughts on being Sarge, Kay?"

 "You wish," Howard quipped back.

 Munch cut one back to her.  "All's I'm saying is, if you ask me..."

 She stopped him in his tracks, turning towards the other two detectives.  "Anyone ask John anything?"

 "Nope, not me," Mike answered offhandedly taking another drag on  his cigarette.

 "Me neither,"  Lewis concurred.

 "Good,"  she smiled wryly, "then let's get to work, hmm?"

***
 Lewis sat low in the passenger seat as Munch poked his way through rush hour traffic.  "You think it really was Gee's idea we make this run tonight when there ain't no reason it couldn't wait 'til morning?"

 "Gee's.  Kay's.  One in the same, hmm?" Munch eyed him over his glasses.

 Lewis glanced over to him.  "Kay don't seem like no yes man to me."

 Munch argued his point.  "You ace a sergeant's exam, make the grade, it's because you figured out what answer they're looking for."

 Lewis gave a slight roll of his shoulders, "OK, so she comes on a little strong now and again.  But that biz ain't cut out for just anybody.  It takes time."

 "Hmm, yeah, sure.  Kay's not just anybody," Munch took a quick look towards Lewis.  "And it didn't take her long to fit right in with the rank and rile."

 "Ya know, you just wouldn't be happy, would you Munch,  if you din'nt have something to be mouthin' off  'bout?" Lewis huffed under his breath, as they neared their destination.  Munch passed him a smug expression, drawing silence.

 The Cavalier pulled into the gated entrance as Munch pulled his badge out to show to security.  "Baltimore Police."

 "I haven't been notified of any problems," the security office looked perplexed towards him.

 Munch eyed him with disregard.  "Hmm, yeah, well, we'll make a note of that.  Now how about showing us to Steve Nash's office."

 "Does he know you're coming?" the guard looked first at Munch, then bent down lower so he could see Lewis, who tipped his hat at him.

 Munch gave him an impatient look and the security officer got the point.  He called for  clearance, then gestured towards a brick building that sat in front of several large warehouses.  They pulled in and passed by a few more security checks to the office of Steven Nash.

 "Working late tonight?"  Lewis asked cordially as he slipped off his hat.  Nash nodded, and before he could speak, Lewis razzed him further.  "Yeah, us too.  Detective Lewis, and this here's Detective Munch."  He pointed towards John, who's expression gave no clue to what he was thinking.

 "Well, I'm really busy," Mr. Nash answered.  "Can't this wait til morning?"

 Lewis chuckled lightly to himself and then turned more serious.  "See, that's the thing 'bout business, hunh?  The business of crimes like that too.  Always this case or that.   Something always pressing, something always to do.  Maybe you got yourself a little dunker or a who dunit, a robbery, or maybe a murder, all's the same, it goes on and on 24 hours a day," Lewis empathized with the man with an edge of sarcasm and truth.

 "What my partner's trying to say is maybe you're working too hard," Munch tipped his chin and made eye contact.

 "Yeah, jus' like us these days." Lewis moaned, then got to the point.  "See, one of your ex-workers turned up to be some of our business."

 Nash appeared cool, unshaken.  "Yeah, I heard.  Wallace Fleming."

 Munch kept it focused.  "You normally keep track of your ex-employees, Mr. Nash?"

 "News passes around," he answered coolly.

 "You hear any other news 'bout the incident, sir?  Seeing as he worked for you and all," Lewis pressed on as he thought of Danvers case.

 "He's not worked for me for a long time.  Several months as a matter of fact," Nash clarified.

 "Yeah, that's what we hear," Lewis thought he'd let Nash know he knew something himself.

 "In fact," Munch continued, "we hear he didn't leave under very good circumstances.  You care to elaborate on that?"

 "Personnel records are personal," Nash shrugged. "Confidential."

 "He's got a point," Lewis looked towards Munch, but let Nash know he knew what was going on.  "Unless they've been supeoned for a police matter."

 "So, you're saying all this has to do with that?" Nash scoffed, realizing he might as well be straight about it.  "Because I hear he had lots of other problems.  Maybe you ought to look into that."

 "We're the detectives,  Mr. Nash," Munch eyed him seriously.  "We'll decide what's important."

 "You're thinking I'd order a hit on him?  You think I'm that stupid?" Nash asked outright.  "Besides, they don't have a case against me."

 Lewis eyed him soberly.  "But, you see where we're coming from here?"

 "We're talking motive.  We're talking intent, cause.  We're talking twenty to life," Munch tried to rile him.

 "I don't think you understand," Nash mouthed back to him, unaffected by Munch's empty words.  "The state has no case against me, robbery or otherwise.  It was weak to begin with and now their key witness is dead."  He stood and walked towards the door, "So,  unless you have something else to talk about, I'd suggest you leave."

 Lewis patted his hat onto his head as they exited the door, then looked towards him.   "Yeah, well, we'll do that, sir.  But watch your step, cause we'll right behind you."

****
 By the time Mike Kellerman and Kay Howard arrived at the party store a group of corner boys were hanging on the street.

 "Looks like the all the riff and the raff are here," Kellerman mouthed quietly to Howard as the car came to a stop and they hopped out.

 Not surprising, the store was empty, except for one punk buying a Butterfingers.   They gave him some space  until he walked away, then approached the lone cashier.  "Say, pal, you work last night?" Kellerman asks with authority, although his tone was casual and relaxed.

 "What do you care?" the kid snapped back.

 Kay smiled reassuredly, "We care alot," she said as she showed him her badge. "We're paid to care."

 "I got no business about what goes on out there, OK?" he answered defensively.

 "Yeah, well, we're not looking for any drug traffic, just some information," Kay answered in her lilting voice.  "Now why don't you just relax and answer a couple of questions, hmm?"

 He gave a heavy sigh, then answered reluctantly.  "I'm here.  Every night.  Four til midnight."

 Kellerman looked out the window towards the corner boys, then back to the cashier.  "You know the guy down the street?  Wallace? Wallace Fleming?"

 "Yeah," he answered as he kept an eye on him.  "I heard he's dead."

 Kellerman returned the stare.  "Yeah, well you heard right.  He in here last night?"

 The kid kept the attitude.  "Am I suppose to remember something special if he was?"

 Kay scowled towards him with a warning glance, although her mouth was edged in a smile.  "Look, we know he was here, he placed a call from the pay phone around ten fifteen. You want to talk about it here or back at headquarters?"

 He tried to put her off.  "I'm working."

 Kellerman stepped forward slightly.  "A quick call to your boss can take care of that."

 The cashier seemed to sense he was cornered.  "OK...so, he was here.   He came in and said he was meeting someone, wondered if I had seen anyone.  I said someone was looking for him,  but they left.   He made a phone call and she came back."

 Kay's tone lost some of the sweetness.  "Who?"

 The kid narrowed his eyes, not really wanting to talk about it, but not feeling like he had a choice.  "Some chick, I don't know her name.  Never seen her before."

 "What did she look like?" Kellerman pressed on.

 "I don't know," his voice cracked.  "Like trouble, I guess."

 Howard moved closer, "Trouble?"

 He tried to explain.  "Yeah.  She looked strung out, in a bad way, you know, like life ain't been easy."
 Kellerman kept him on target.  "OK, so what happened?"

 He threw his hands in the air, keeping his answers short and to the point. "He talked.  She talked louder.  She left."
 Howard's listened intently.  "That was it?"

 "Best as I can remember.  I wasn't taking notes, you know what I mean?" he leaned  against the back counter and crossed his arms.

 Mike didn't let up.  "So what was the conversation?"

 "Like I said, she yelled, there wasn't much talking going on."  The cashier rolled his eyes, then looked out towards the street.

 "So, like I said, what did you hear?" Mike restated his question.

 His eyes narrowed, "I don't know, she was pissed or something, said he stood her up after he promised to be better and she was tired of the bullshit."

 Kay's expression was patient, but her tone was clearly not.  "OK, again, what did she look like?"

 "I don't know, sort of hard, like someone you wouldn't take home to your mother, but maybe someone your ole' man would appreciate."

 Kay pulled a picture out of her pocket, "Would your ole' man appreciate her?"

 "Yeah, that could be her," he answered without conviction.

 Mike leaned a little closer, "Could be or is?"

 He shrugged.  "Yeah...yeah, it looks like her."

***
 Tomieka Livingston answered the door as her two young kids toddled around, yelling and screaming.  She didn't seem in any mood for talking, but let Kay and Mike into her strewn apartment just the same.

 "I already told you, he and I broke up months ago," she answered.

 "Cut the crap," Mike challenged the remark.  "You saw him last night. We got a witness that puts you and Wally together."
 She sighed at the revelation.  "OK, so I saw him.  Big fucking deal.  It was just for a minute," she admitted reluctantly.

 "Why don't you tell us what happened, hmm?" Kay suggested in her usual calm tone.

 She caught one of the toddlers in her hand and gave them a shake of the shoulder, trying to slow them down.  "I get lonely, OK?  He called a few weeks ago, you know wanting to put things right,"  she answered with a sigh, as she looked down at the two kids tugging on her.  "I said no at first, but," she sighed, "you know what it's like with two kids running around?"

 "Not exactly," Kay answered then pressed on.  "From the sounds of it, you weren't exactly getting along."

 "Who told you that?"

 Mike reiterated.  "We were at the store tonight."

 Her expression turned to anger.  "He was suppose to meet me last night, around 9:30 and he didn't.  I waited around for awhile and then paged him.  You know, I was pissed, ready to tell the son of a bitch we were through for good this time."
 Howard filled in some of the details.  "He didn't show up and you left."

 "Yeah, I left," she answered.  "So, he gets there late, then calls me.  I  came back just so I could tell him to his face."

 Kellerman looked annoyed. "Why didn't you tell us this before?"

 She shrugged.  "I didn't want no one to know.   You blame me for that?".

 "Who's cell phone did you use?" Kay asked directly.

 "Mine," she cast a quick eye towards her kids, then back.  "Why?"

 "It was stolen," she responded.

 "No, it wasn't.  My brother, gave it to me," she argued quietly.  "You're not going to tell him are you?  He'd be real pissed if he knew I was talking to that son of a bitch again."

***
 Most cases sooner or later get settled in the box.  A new detective stands outside and looks in with a bit of apprehension, coupled with excitement.  A lot goes on in there.  Talk and more talk.  Thinking to yourself and thinking outloud.  It's often right there in the box that a detectives merits are determined.  It's where their skills are tested and their nerves rattled.  And there's always that lingering aura from those legendary detectives to live up to who somehow were able to break down the most hardened of suspects.

 Kellerman leaned up against the wall, as Kay took a corner wedge of the table.  It was late and they'd been through this all before.  "OK, Dwayne let's go over this, again?"

 He was fidgety, as though Howard was his mother and he had just got caught breaking curfew.  "We know that you gave your sister the cell phone."

 Kellerman chimed in.  "She's already turned it over.  You're prints are all over it."

 "I didn't know it was stolen.  Someone gave it to me," his tone was brusque.  "How was I spose to know?"

 "Just like you didn't know the car was stolen?" Kay rebutted calmly, leaning in towards him.

 "We've got witnesses that put you with the car,"  Kellerman shared with him.

 "Where'd you go for dinner last night?  You like Big Macs, hmm?" she smiled as she let him know she knew.

 "I don't remember," he mouthed off, but her revelation was unsettling.

 Mike leaned in, two arms on the table, "Let's talk about Tomieka again."

 "What about her?" Dwayne shrugged.

 Mike eyed him, "She's not had such a great life."

 "Yeah, so, who has?"

 Kay leveled with him, "But this Wally, you didn't like him, didn't like how he treated her."

 Dwayne was more restless, more agitated.  "She didn't deserve that."

 "What?" Kellerman asked outright trying to agitate him further, maybe get him to react and maybe forget who's he's talking to.

 He brushed it off.  "You know what.  You talked to her.  Check your notes."

 Kay stood up and paced.  "Yeah, you're right.  We've had a couple of conversations with her.  We know about the fight between you and Wally.  And you know what we're thinking, hmm?"

 "I ain't stupid," he snapped with an attitude.

 Mike pushed a little further.  "But she was, wasn't she?  She just couldn't let go of a bad thing.  So you had to do it for her. What did he do to her?  Push her around, slap her, make her hurt real bad?"

 His tone escalated.  "She'd never say, she'd never want me to know, like if nobody knew, it didn't happen.  But I could see it, and not just the marks he left.  It was just how my mom would take it."

 Kay sympathized. "Your dad beat your mom?"

 He raised his voice.  "Just like that son of a bitch did to my sister.  But he won't touch her again."

 Kay stated the fact.  "You shot him point blank."

 "It's over now, aint it?" Dwayne spitout without remorse.  "He won't knock her around again.  Not in front of her own kids.   No one oughta see anyone do that to their mom."

***
 "I don't know, Meldrick," Mike sighed into his beer glass.  It was past closing time and they sat alone with a bluesy ballad in the background.  "Do you ever think about how often you get screwed?"

 "Or *don't*," Lewis nodded forlornly.  "All the time."

 "I'm not talking about that," Kellerman shook off the remark, thinking seriously.

 "I mean, we're cops, right?  And you'd think that would count for something, but instead we get lies and half-truths, or maybe nothing at all.  That case today, there were people standing around and someone had to have seen or heard something and what did we get - nothing."

 "Yeah, well, you're just feeling a little overwrought there, Mikey," Lewis pointed out, as he lifted his glass.  "It's late."

 He ignored the remark, now talking as much to himself as Lewis.  "So, Wally watched his dad beat his mom and so he beat his girlfriend, but Dwayne watched his dad and decides to pump a couple of rounds into Wally so his sister won't get knocked around anymore."   He took a sip of beer.  "Kids learn what they live, huh?"

 "You know what you gotta learn, Mikey?  You gotta learn to be still.  There's a time for thinkin' and a time for drinkin'," Lewis answered soberly.

 "Yeah, so anyway, today, me and Howard, we went back to the scene, and there were these kids playing.  I mean, they had the tape strung around and they were just having fun.  But who were they playing?  Whatdya think?  The bad guys, not the cops,"  he sighed heavily.

 Lewis sighed.  "Well, that's jus' the way some things is."

   Kellerman slid a cigarette out of his pocket and lit up with a long puff, then picked up his glass, hesitating a moment, "You think we'll ever do any damage out there?  You know, think we'll ever win?"

 "Us?" Lewis asked.  "Nope. But we'll be out there tomorrow, jus'  like today, working the street."

 The needle in the jukebox slid off the 45 and the bar filled with silence, as smoke lingered over them.  But off in the distance they heard the whining scream of a siren and neither one looked up.