For a moment I just sat there, numbed by Commissioner Moran's words. I had anticipated a special assignment, for that was my job, but nothing of this magnitude. This case had the potential for doing more harm than any I've ever worked on before. This rapist, whoever he was, had to be stopped, and stopped fast.
"I see what you mean, Spens," I said after a while. "You had better give me all the details quickly, because I'd like to get started on this at once."
"Everything that we have on these cases has been pulled and culled from our files," Commissioner Moran explained, "including verbatim depositions from the three victims. The entire package of material is sitting on the desk in your office awaiting your inspection. Naturally, you'll have all the assistance you could possibly want, including the full and unlimited use of Central Computer. You have been assigned a tube car for your transportation, with the highest possible tunnel passage authorization. All departments are open to you, and all the supervisors have been instructed to drop whatever it is they may be doing whenever you need help. If you need a staff, tell me how many, and they'll be assigned to you."
I began to rise up from my seat, impatient to get started. "Fine… excellent. It sounds like you've taken care of everything. Let me go read over the files and familiarize myself with the case, and then I'll be in a better position to know what else I may need."
I was halfway to the door before Commissioner Moran spoke again. "There is one more thing, Mal."
I turned. "Yes?"
"I've assigned you a partner…"
"What?"
"Now, now don't get yourself all worked up," he said, trying to soothe me. "I know how you feel about working by yourself, but…"
"No good, Spens," I cried, shaking my head. I stomped back across the room to his desk. Leaning over it, resting my hands on top of it, I said again: "No damn good. I don't work with a partner, you know that. Now, if I need a staff, I'll let you know. But a partner is out…"
"A partner, Malachi Browne," Commissioner Moran insisted, "is in. And this comes not only from me, it comes directly from the Mayor himself. This is a big case, Mal, and we can't afford to take any chances. Two heads, even if one of them is yours, still are better than one."
I sat down heavily in my seat. "But Spens…"
"No buts, Mal. You have no say in this matter. On this case you'll have a partner." He flipped a switch on his desk and spoke into the communicator. "Sergeant Mycroft, send in Policewoman Wolfe, please."
My eyes widened. "She? Oh, Jesus, Spencer."
The door opened, and in walked Policewoman Wolfe. This time she was smiling, and I had a feeling she had known about this all along. She walked directly across the room, without once looking at me, stopping directly in front of Commissioner Moran's desk.
"You sent for me, sir?" she asked.
"Yes. Sit down please, Jocelyn. You, of course, are familiar with this case…"
"Yes, sir. I've gone over most of the information from the files, and I'm quite familiar with it."
"And you know, of course," Commissioner Moran continued, "that you'll be working as Detective Browne's assistant."
"Oh, yes, sir. I'm quite familiar with the famous Malachi Browne." She flashed a dazzling, if not sardonic smile at me. "I'm looking forward to working with him. His reputation is almost legend."
"That's it!" I said, slapping my palm against Commissioner Moran's desk. "It's just not going to work. I can't work with her."
Her ice-blue eyes froze up, and her smile melted away. "If you object to me, sir, because I'm a woman, let me just say…"
"No, no, no! It's not that." I waved away her objection with a disgusted flap of my hand. "I wouldn't care if you were a kangaroo, I still wouldn't want you for my partner. I don't want anyone for a partner. I'm a loner, sister. I work by myself."
"I am not your sister," she said in carefully controlled anger. "My name is Jocelyn Wolfe. You may call me Jocelyn, or you may call me Miss Wolfe, but I will not stand for you calling me…"
"Oh, God," I moaned sarcastically. "One of those!"
"Listen, buster…"
"Stop it. The both of you." Commissioner Moran gave us both withering looks. "You're acting like children instead of the professional policemen that you, both are. You are going to be partners, whether you like it or not; is that understood?"
"But Spencer, for Christ's sake," I tried once more, "listen to reason. I'm a loner – you know that. A partner, any partner, will only get in my way. It will slow me down. It will prevent me from doing my job effectively. A partner will…"
"A partner will help you," Commissioner Moran finished for me. There was a rigid tone of finality in his voice. "Besides, look at this from a purely professional point of view. The crimes you'll be investigating involve rape and women. Wouldn't it make sense to you, therefore, to have a woman's perspective in on the case? She'll see things that you might not even be aware of simply because you are not a woman. But Jocelyn is, and on top of that, she's a damn fine policewoman."
Jocelyn's voice was subdued. "Thank you, sir."
I heaved a mighty sigh. "Yes… yes," I grudgingly admitted. The idea was sound. "That does make sense… I guess. All right. I'll work with a partner. That is if she has no objections."
"I have none," Jocelyn said.
Commissioner Moran smiled a tight uneasy smile of relief. "Thank goodness that's settled. If you both don't mind my saying this, you acted more like children than professionals. In many ways you're both very much alike – independent and headstrong and resentful of being told what to do; but, in the same breath, you're both damn fine cops. If you learn to work together I'm confident that between you you'll have this matter settled in no time at all."
Jocelyn and I mumbled something quietly appropriate.
"All right," Commissioner Moran said. "Get out of here, the both of you. I want you to keep me posted on every move you make. I want full summaries, daily. Now go to work and solve this damn case."
I looked at Jocelyn, and she looked back at me. Something like a smile passed between us. I don't think she was any more ecstatic about the circumstances than I was, but what the hell. We had no choice. Together we got up and began to walk toward the door.
"Oh, yes!" Commissioner Moran called. "I just remembered something. Mal, I'd like to speak to you for a few seconds more. You know where Detective Browne's office is, don't you, Jocelyn?"
"Yes."
"Why don't you wait there for Mal. I'll only keep him a moment."
When she was gone, Commissioner Moran called me over to his desk.
"What is it, Spens?" I asked.
"I didn't want to say this in front of her, Mal," he began, looking concerned, "but we – the department are worried about Jocelyn. As little as two months ago she was considered by everyone a cracker-jack policewoman. She had all the potential in the world of developing into something really special. She had all the tools: a fine mind, sensitivity, keen perceptions… everything."
"And then?"
Commissioner Moran sighed, "It's tragic. Her husband left her. They were married for less than two months, and Jocelyn was mad about him. She literally worshiped the ground he walked on. But he left her for another woman. She took it very poorly. The psychiatrist's report says that her father did the same thing to her mother when Jocelyn was only a little girl: he left them for another woman. Apparently, in Jocelyn's mind, she convinced herself that she was responsible for both incidents. With that kind of a load to carry around, she cracked. She had a nervous breakdown."
"I wish I'd have known," I said, feeling sorry for her. "I wouldn't have made such a fuss before."
"For a long time she was very bad: depression, even suicidal; there was a real possibility that she wasn't going to pull through. She did, thank God, but the trauma changed her. It shook her confidence in people and in herself. She's still floundering, looking for something to grab onto. Her psychiatrist suggested that work would be the best possible kind of therapy for her now. So we put her on this case with you."
"I see."
"There is a possibility that getting back to work, being in on an important case, with the possibility of solving it, may restore her to what she used to be before. She had a fine mind, Mal, and would have been a first-rate police officer one day. She still may, if we can pull her through this. If not, I'm afraid she's out. This just may be Jocelyn Wolfe's last assignment, so, please… don't be too hard on her."
Jocelyn was sitting at my desk, studying the files, when I returned to my office. I smiled at her without pitying her, and I said: "Would you like to go to dinner? We can discuss the case together."
"I've already eaten, thank you." She smiled. "But I'll let you buy me a beer."
"A beer?"
"Sure. I simply love beer!"