Harrison sat in the simple desk chair he’d used when he was a city councilman in Brooklyn. On his first day in the mayor’s office he’d had the throne that the prior mayor had used removed and discarded. “Spin. We need to spin it. Okay, we’ll make it clear that Rhyme didn’t play any significant role in the investigation. That was misreported. And we’ll say that what little assistance he gave—I repeat,littleassistance—didn’t contribute to finding the killer.”
Potter cleared his throat. “Uhm, Tony, then why arrest Rhyme, if that was all he did?”
Harrison grimaced. Good point. He thought for a moment. “The security guard …”
“I’m sorry?” Beaufort rubbed his fingers and thumb together. The mayor noticed the I’m-not-sure-about-this gesture.
“Okay, Rhyme and his team commandeered the investigation. If it had been handled by the precinct and Detective Bureau, they would’ve closed the case earlier, and no one would have died.”
Silence for a moment. Potter glanced from his boss to Beaufort, then back. “Well, I’m not law enforcement, but even I know that Rhyme and Amelia Sachs and the others close cases faster than any other team in the city.”
“True,” Beaufort said.
The mayor aligned sleeves once again. “You two may know that; the public doesn’t.”
The voting public.
“I take a firm stand. I acknowledge that they caught the Locksmith, but by running their own operation, in defiance of my orders, they set back the investigation and thatmayhave resulted in the death of an innocent individual. But I’ll be magnanimous about it. We’ll let leak that I considered criminally negligent homicide against Rhyme but decided to go with obstruction of justice. It’s a Class A misdemeanor, which means up to a year in jail. We need to find a judge who’ll hit him withsometime. Four, five months should be fine.”
“Firing the others?” Potter wondered.
Harrison considered. “Too far. Suspension, no pay. Disregard of orders. Make it six months.”
Beaufort stirred.
“Three months.” Harrison received a nod from the detective in reply.
Potter said, “What about the disabled thing?”
“Detention can handle it.” Harrison caught Beaufort’s troubled face. “You and Al Rodriguez were fine spying on him, but you’re not all right with this?”
Beaufort said, “The spying was for show. So the press—and thepublic—could see you were taking your order about consultants seriously. I never thought you’d actually want to collar him.”
“It has to happen. Or I lose credibility. And Roland is all over me. We need to find a prosecutor to get on board.”
Potter said, “O’Shaughnessy. He’s young. He’ll do anything we tell him.”
Harrison said, “Call Rodriguez. Have him handle the bust. And arrange for Rhyme to come here. I don’t want any raids on his town house.”
“Yessir.”
“No drama. He’s in a wheelchair. Let’s handle it with kid gloves.”
“While we book him in the Tombs,” Beaufort muttered.
“While we do just that,” Harrison said, putting what he thought was just the right amount of whipcrack into his voice, not pleased with Beaufort’s insubordination, tepid though it was.
Potter’s phone hummed with a text. He read and frowned.
Harrison sighed. “Another broadside from Roland?”
“No, seems there’s a disturbance on Broadway, Herald Square.”
“What is it?”
“Demonstrators, protesters, about Verum. Nobody’s sure yet. But Meyer’s department store’s burning.”
He glanced at Beaufort. “Call Rodriguez. Have him take care of the Rhyme arrest.” Then to Potter: “Call the chief and find out about this thing in Midtown.” He scoffed and cast his gaze out upon the city. “Riot. Just what I need.”