HEAT SNAP?
Underneath was a half-screen picture of Nikki confronting Keith Gilbert outside the Widmark Hotel prior to his arrest. The caption read, CELEBRITY COVER-COP NIKKI HEAT SNARLS AT A COOPERATIVE AND CONFUSED COMMISSIONER KEITH GILBERT JUST BEFORE SHAMING HIM WITH AN AWKWARDLY PUBLIC MIDTOWN ARREST. IS THERE FIRE, OR DID SMOKIN’ HEAT SNAP? It got worse.
The article, quoting only unnamed insiders and sources preferring to remain anonymous, painted a picture of a formerly stellar NYPD homicide detective with a penchant for obsession.
People in the know have come out about Neurotic Nikki’s single-mindedness. Like flogging her murdered Mom’s case over ten years, always at the expense of other investigations. “Don’t get in her way when she’s on a tear,” said one ex-cop. It seems Heat has no problem multitasking when it comes to the bedroom, though. Although romantically linked to über-journalist Jameson Rook, a buff gym buddy was shot dead in her tony Gramercy apartment not long ago. When responders arrived, the hunky stiff was naked in her foyer. “I think she kinda cracked,” spoke another on background only, fearing retribution from the swingin’ dick. “But cut her some slack. Her mom got knifed and her dad’s turned into a lush.”
Is this what Keith Gilbert meant when he invoked Steinbrenner to mask his threat to throw her over a wall? Maligning her family? She stopped reading and immediately picked up the phone to call her father. The sad reality was, Nikki had to look at the clock to see if it was early enough in the day to reach him while he was still sober.
“Hi, Dad, it’s me, Nikki. Listen, just thinking about you. Hoping you’re all right.” She paused. What do you do in these situations: leave a message telling him not to read a paper or answer any e-mails or calls? “Give me a ring right away when you get this, OK? Love you.”
As Heat ended her voice mail, a sharp rap on the captain’s office window startled her. She turned to see Wally Irons standing inside his fishbowl, with one hand holding the ballpoint he’d used to tap the glass, and the other holding the phone to his ear. He used the pen to point at Nikki and then jerked it back to beckon her in. He wore the expression of a man whose sloppy joe had started coming back up on him.
“She just came in the office, I’m going to put you on speaker,” said Irons who then cradled his handset, accidentally disconnecting his caller. “Fu-uck.” Then he turned to Nikki. “It’s Zach Hamner from One PP; park yourself.” The line purred again in a redial instant and he stubbed a finger down on the speaker button to answer.
“Heat?” asked the voice of The Hammer.
“Right here.” Nikki tried to sound nonchalant, but all her defenses were on high alert. Irons and Hamner despised each other, so having them together on a call, combined with Wally’s dyspeptic look, signaled a DEFCON-3 event. Her first thought was that this would be about the sleazy article. She wasn’t that lucky.
“I hear there was no gun,” said Zach, getting right to it, actually, helping Heat relax a little because she was prepared to address that.
“A bit of a surprise after his lawyer called to help us locate it in the house. But it happens.” Captain Irons emitted an audible sigh and grimaced some more. She ignored him and continued, “I’m not sweating that.”
“How can you not? It’s physical evidence in your case.”
Nodding at the speaker grid on the gray phone, she said, “Which has disappeared. Or been hidden. Or lost. I’m not happy about it, but it just means we have to recover it. Or chalk it up. In any event, I see this all in keeping with Gilbert’s duplicity. Embracing the search to appear innocent and cooperative, knowing the whole time that I’d spend half a day chasing my tail to find an empty holster.”