Nikki fought away another wave of crushing sorrow and managed to say in her most professional voice, “Thank you, sir.”
“We wanted you in to address this matter immediately,” continued the Department’s lawyer. “The commissioner would be here himself, but he is in a committee meeting on Capitol Hill about now and we felt it was important to remedy the miscalculation made by this body vis-à-vis your status.” While he continued on, speaking in his coded language for their screwup, Nikki felt herself tumble into the kaleidoscopic tunnel that had swallowed her at Belvedere Castle in the aftermath of her attack. She held eye contact with Atkins, but all the while random images turntabled around him. Rook draped on her after the gunshot . . . Montrose cursing at his performance data printouts . . . Rook’s ashen face . . . Van Meter pulse-checking Steljess in the auto salvage yard . . . Rook’s blood in the sink when she finally washed her hands . . . the Murder Board after Captain Irons carelessly erased it, leaving red smears from her marker . . .
A wrap-up tone in Atkins’s voice pulled her back to the moment. “It was a rush to judgment,” he said, “and for that, we sincerely apologize.”
“Accepted, sir.” And then she added, “And appreciated.” The Mount Rushmore of faces around the table relaxed. Some even smiled at her.
“It’s our decision to reinstate you immediately to active status, Detective Heat,” continued Atkins. “I should also say it’s no secret that you had one major champion through this ordeal.”
“No secret because she won’t let us forget it,” blurted the Personnel chief, with a laugh that lightened the mood around the room.
“And so,” Atkins said, “I’m going to give the floor to the Deputy Commissioner of Technological Development. Phyllis?”
Midway up the mahogany, a beaming Phyllis Yarborough leaned forward, tilting her head for a better view of Nikki. “Detective Heat . . . Nice to be able to say that again, isn’t it? Well, don’t get used to it. I have been given the privilege and personal honor to inform you that you are not only reinstated as a detective, but today you will be given your gold bar and sworn in as a lieutenant in the NYPD.” Nikki’s heart galloped in her chest. Phyllis waited for the applause to settle. “Congratulations. And may I add that we have no doubt that this is just one rung on the ladder of your ascent within this department.”
The applause grew louder and included a number of “hear, hear”s. When it died down, heads swiveled to Nikki, and it was clearly her moment.
Heat rose.
“I want to repeat what I told the Orals Board a few days ago. Police work—police work on the NYPD—is more than a job to me, it’s my life’s work. To whatever degree I am a professional, it is because I take it so personally. Which is why I wholeheartedly accept reinstatement and thank you for that.” There was brief clapping, which she interrupted by holding her hands out. When they were quiet again, she said, “It is the same reason that I respectfully decline the promotion to lieutenant.”