As Veck met the man's eyes, he felt as though the movie of his life had been out of focus without his even being aware the shit was blurry. The cameraman, however, had finally woken up and gotten with the program with his equipment ... and it was a new f**king world.
Especially given the fact that the fading light of day was coming from behind Jim Heron ... and there was nothing at the guy's feet. No shadow at all.
"What the f**k are you," Veck demanded.
"I'm here to save your ass, that's what I am." The guy took a drag on his cig and exhaled slowly. "You ready to talk to me now?"
Veck stared at his own pair of outlines, both in the shape of his body. "Yeah. I am."
Reilly was behind the wheel of her unmarked as she and Bails went over to the St. Francis Hospital complex. Beside her, the detective was quiet in her passenger seat as she navigated heavy traffic and got stuck at red lights and then hit a detour that took her in the opposite direction.
"Any more of this and I'm going to start thinking someone doesn't want us talking to Kroner," she muttered.
Bails didn't even glance over. "Yeah."
More silence. To the point where she was going to ask him to just get it all out: The last thing they needed was this kind of tension when they were in front ot killer.
Bails spoke before she did, however. "I'm sorry I'm not talking. I just don't know what to do."
"About what?" When it was safe to take her eyes off the road, she spared him a quick look. The guy was drumming his fingers against the door, and staring out of the windshield as if he were searching for answers in the glass.
"I know you saw my e-mail," she said after a moment.
"If only that was the big problem." As she shot another glance across at him, he shrugged. "You know Veck and I are tight, yeah?"
"Yes."
"And you know that I've always been behind him one hundred percent. To the death. That boy is mine."
As he pounded over his heart, she said, "Okay."
"So, yeah, I saw the e-mail he sent you. I didn't mean to, but it was up on your screen when I came over to you two." He looked over. "I wasn't eavesdropping. It was just there."
Damn it.
That was all she had. Damn it.
"So now ..." His fingers stilled and he shook his head. "I don't know what to do."
"No offense, but why is it your business. And I don't mean to be a bitch, but - "
"I know things about him that you don't, and I think he's done something illegal. And given that you're with him, I don't know who in Internal Affairs to go to. Good enough for you?"
As Reilly exhaled like she'd been punched in the gut, she wanted to pull over. Good thing they were finally at the hospital and she could park in the open lot in front of the emergency room.
When she turned off the engine, she faced him. "What are you talking about?"
Bails put a hand on the dashboard and ran his palm back and forth. Then he wiped the thin layer of dust he'd lifted on his thigh. "Look, I'm a cop because I want to protect people, and because I believe in the system. I don't think a civilized society can exist without the police and courts and jails. There are people out there who just do not belong in the general population. Period."
"You haven't said one word about Veck. FYI."
"Has he told you he has a record?"
As a cold shaft shot down her spine, she forced herself to remain composed. "No."
"I didn't think so."
This guy was full of crap, she thought. "Listen, I'm sorry to doubt your sources, but there's nothing in his personnel file - and you can't lie about that stuff. All HR has to do - and did - is run his name."
"Not when it's juvie shit."
Reilly blinked. Hard. "I beg your pardon."
"He has a juvenile record. A serious one."
"How do you know this?"
"I saw the thing. With my own two eyes." Bails let his head fall back against the rest. "I first met Veck at the police academy. He was a loner who did everything right - I was the class clown. We just ... clicked. After we got out, we stayed in touch even though we were assigned to different precincts down in Manhattan, and then I latermoved up here. For all the years I've known him, he's always been tight in the head. In control. Tough, but fair. Matter of fact, he's one of the best cops I've ever met, and I recruited him to come to Caldie because I wanted to work with him." Bails cursed. "In all the time I've known him, I've never once thought he wasn't fit for the job because of that shit with his dad ... until now. It started with him nailing that paparazzi guy. Then the Kroner thing out in the woods. It's like his wrapper's coming off - but I wasn't going to say anything, I really wasn't, until - "
"Wait. Stop." Reilly cleared her throat, thinking a dose of protocol might calm the headache she felt between her eyes. "In the interest of propriety, you should get in touch with my supervisor immediately if you have anything to say pertaining to Detective DelVecchio. You were right before you started ... you shouldn't tell me these things. I shouldn't ... be in the position I'm in now with respect to him. Matter of fact, I have an appointment with her when you and I get back from this interview so that I can properly disclose the relationship to my department."
Bails rubbed his eyes and nodded. "I'll do that ... but I also think you need to know, too. Because if anything happened to you, I would never forgive myself."
At that, Reilly stiffened. "Why would you be worried about my safety?"
He raked his hand through his hair. "See, I helped him move into his house, you know, when he got up here. He had all these old boxes that needed to go into the attic. I was carrying one of them and the bottom fell out. Fucking papers went everywhere and I started to pick them up - and there it was. His juvi record from back in the mid-nineties."
"What did it say," she managed through a closed throat.
"He had every marker for psychotic, antisocial behavior there is." Bails frowned. "You know what I'm talking about, so I'm not going to list the shit he did."
Animal torture? Preoccupation with fire? Bed-wetting?
"All of it," Bails said, as if he were reading her mind.
"But he's never done anything as an adult," she countered - except it was less a statement than a question.
"Not that we know of. And, see, that's what's been worrying me. Psychopaths are really good at pretending to be normal. On the surface, they fit in - because they make it their business to. What if this stretch of relative peace and quiet up until now ... is all he can manage? The end of the acting period and the time when the real him makes an appearance ? You can't deny that his wheels have been coming off - hell, you wouldn't be his partner if things were going right." The conflict on Bails's face was plain to see. "Or worse ... what if we just don't know what he's really been doing? I tell you, I couldn't sleep last night - I was trying to reconcile what I believe him to be ... with what he might actually be. If that makes sense."
Reilly heard Veck's voice in her head: I want to make everything perfect for you.
And he had. He'd said the right things. Done the right things.
Thrown his cigarettes out for her - or at least had done so in front of her.
She'd fallen in love with him in four days.
Fortuitous accident? Or by design?
Except where would it gehim? He'd been the one to argue for suspension ... unless that had been a deliberate stance? She'd certainly taken care of championing his case and his reputation - which had more credibility than his doing so, didn't it.
Bails's voice drifted over. "You can't trust him. I'm learning that now."
"Just because he didn't tell you about what happened when he was younger?" she heard herself say. "And besides, keeping a sealed record to yourself isn't illegal."
"I think he planted evidence. Sissy Barten's earring, specifically. To make it look as if Kroner was responsible."
She didn't bother to hide her recoil. "What? And how?"
"He went up to her bedroom, didn't he. The day you two went over to the Barten house. He told me you were downstairs when he did. And he was in the evidence room yesterday morning - I talked to Joey, one of the crime scene investigators. He said Veck had been by - and he could have planted it then."
"But he said he'd found the earring in and among the evidence."