Snow began falling in fat clumps, making Nikki’s traffic experience getting downtown to Park Row a nightmare. If she had only taken the subway, it would have been a snap just to duck into Grand Central from the Hays meeting and grab a 4 or 5 express to Centre Street. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, and done. But with the rest of the shooting team that hunted her down in the park still at large, Raley and Ochoa persisted and she gave in, allowing The Discourager to drive her to One Police Plaza in his RMU.
Harvey wasn’t much of a talker, which was fine with her; she was trying to clear her head for her big moment and could do without. The only conversation they had was when he offered to light up the bar on top of the cruiser when it looked as if she’d be late and she said no. He made up for it with assertive wheel work and liberal use of his horn. When Nikki got out in front of the Municipal Building on Centre, she was tense and fighting car sickness.
Heat reached the lobby of 1PP with ten minutes she never thought she’d have to spare. She needed that time to collect herself. After the promotion and swearing in, she might be called upon to speak to the committee and she didn’t want to go in frazzled. Especially if, as Phyllis told her, they might be bumping her to captain and giving her a command, she didn’t want to blather and make them rethink their choice. She wished Rook could be there, and the fact that she thought of him sharing that moment with her brought her a degree of calm. They could celebrate later. Brushing the snow off her coat, she looked for a quiet place to sit and think.
The seats where she had enjoyed her conversation with Commissioner Yarborough were open, but on her way over she stopped. Tam Svejda stood in her path. Her back was to Heat as she folded her notebook and shook hands with the public information officer. Nikki made a sharp turn to get to the elevators before she was spotted, but it was too late.
“Detective Heat? Nikki Heat, wait up.” Nikki stopped and turned. The PIO gave her a cursory glance as he passed by and took the elevator car Heat had been waiting for. “How did you like the article?” asked Tam as she strolled over.
“Tam, I’m sorry but I have a very important meeting I can’t be late for.” Nikki pressed the button and added, “Not to be rude.” Then she pounded the button twice more.
“Listen, this wouldn’t be for attribution.” The reporter opened her palms. “Look, Ma, no pen. Completely off the record. Any thoughts?”
“My one remark is I wish you would think a little about the damage you do with an article like that, especially to the reputation of a good man.”
Childlike, as if she wasn’t listening, Tam Svejda said, “Uh-huh. . . . But it was accurate, right? I mean I did ask you for help, but you said no.”
“It’s not something I do,” said Nikki. The elevator opened and she stepped aboard.
“But this worked out just as well, right?”
“What did?”
“Jamie, of course. You couldn’t talk, so you used Jamie.”
Heat stepped off before the doors closed. “What are you talking about? Your source for that article was Ja— Rook?” Heat wondered if she was being played. She had figured Hinesburg or maybe Gallagher, or both, had leaked the story. In her disbelief she said as much to herself as to the reporter, “You got it from Rook?”
“Yeah, Jamie e-mailed me his notes, even. Oh my God, I thought you knew.” Nikki was speechless and just stared. “Nikki Heat, no wonder you’re such a great detective. You just got me to reveal my source.” Tam slapped her own forehead with the heel of her hand. “Some journalist, huh?”
* * *
Rook. She needed to talk with Rook. But not then. She couldn’t. As soon as Nikki rounded the corner into the hall outside the tenth-floor conference room, a uniform said, “Detective Heat?”
On her walk up, she answered, “Here.”