The Vanished Man (Lincoln Rhyme 5)

"One of the officers in the exercise wouldn't pass you."

"Wouldn't pass me? But I . . ." Her voice faded as she pictured the handsome officer with the shotgun stepping out from behind the Dumpster. The man she'd snubbed.

Bang, bang . . .

The captain read from a piece of paper, "He said you didn't quote 'display proper respect for individuals in a supervisory position. And she exhibited disrespectful behavior with regard to peers, leading to situations of endangerment.' "

"So Ramos tracked down somebody willing to dime me out and fed him those lines. I'm sorry, Captain, but you really think a street cop talks that way? 'Situations of endangerment'? Come on."

Well, Pop, she thought to her father, how's this for sticking in the craw? Feeling heartsick.

Then she looked carefully at Marlow. "What else, sir? There is something else, isn't there?"

To his credit he held her eye as he said, "Yes, Officer. There is. It gets worse, I'm afraid."

Let's hear how exactly it could be worse, Pop.

"Ramos is trying to get you suspended."

"Suspended. That's bullshit."

"He wants an inquest."

"Vindictive . . ." The "prick" didn't get spoken as she saw in Marlow's gaze the reminder that it was this sort of attitude that had gotten her into trouble in the first place.

He added, "I have to tell you that he's mad enough to . . . Well, he's going for suspension without pay." This punishment was usually reserved for officers accused of crimes.

"Why?"

Marlow didn't answer. But he didn't need to, of course. Sachs knew: to bolster his credibility Ramos had to show that the time-out woman who'd embarrassed him was a loose cannon.

And the other reason was that he was a vindictive prick.

"What'd the grounds be?"

"Insubordination, incompetence."

"I can't lose my shield, sir." Trying not to sound desperate.

"There's nothing I can do about your flunking the exam, Amelia. That's in the board's hands and they've already made their decision. But I'll fight the suspension. I can't promise anything, though. Ramos's got wire. All over the city."

A hand rose into her scalp. She scratched until she felt pain. Lowered her hand, feeling slick blood. "Can I speak freely, sir?"

Marlow slumped slightly in his chair. "Jesus, Officer, sure. You have to know I feel bad about this. Say what you want. And you don't have to sit at attention. We're not the army, you know."

Sachs cleared her throat. "If he tries for suspension, sir, my next call'll be to the PBA lawyers. I'll light this one up. I'll take it as far as I have to."

And she would. Though she knew how non-rank cops who fought discrimination or suspensions through the Patrolmen's Benevolent As

sociation were unofficially red flagged. Many of them found their careers permanently sidetracked even if they won technical victories.

Marlow held her steady gaze as he said, "Noted, Officer."

So it was knuckle time.

Her father's expression. About being a cop.

Amie, you have to understand: sometimes it's a rush, sometimes you get to make a difference, sometimes it's boring. And sometimes, not too often, thank God, it's knuckle time. Fist to fist. You're all by your lonesome, with nobody to help you. And I don't mean just the perps. Sometimes it'll be you against your boss. Sometimes against their bosses. Could be you against your buddies too. You gonna be a cop, you got to be ready to go it alone. There's no getting around it.