“Hey Huft,” Cheeks hollered across the office as he stormed towards Steve Huft’s desk. “I’ve got a lead on the Ramsey case, an address on his parents. They live in Brookfield.”
Steve didn’t look up from his desk, “Cool. Vinny let the lease run out on his place in Milwaukee a couple of months ago. His parent’s house is the only lead we’ve got right now. Where did you get it?”
Cheeks averted his eyes, even though he didn’t need to. Steve wasn’t looking at him anyway. “Anonymous tip, the caller wouldn’t give their name.”
Now Steve looked up, “Anonymous tip my ass. Where’d you get it?”
“I’m telling you, anonymous tip.” He shifted slightly from foot to foot, a nervous habit he was aware of but couldn’t remedy. The shifting was nearly imperceptible, but Steve noticed.
“Come on. Where’d you get it? Why’s it such a big secret?” annoyance slipped into Steve’s tone. He didn’t like games and he didn’t like members of his team concealing information. A team needed to move as a unit, one interconnected being. When people start concealing information from each other, the team loses strength and eventually falls apart. Individuals become cowboys chasing glory and they lose sight of the goal.
John Kominski piped in from his desk, “What’s the damn difference where he got it? If he says it was an anonymous tip, then it was an anonymous tip. Who the hell cares? The important thing is that he’s got it. Instead of interrogating him, you should be getting somebody on the search warrant.”
Steve shifted his gaze from Cheeks to John. “First of all, if we’re going to get anywhere, we need to move as a unit. The right hand needs to know what the left hand is doing. Right now, I’m the right hand and I don’t know what the fuck the left hand is doing. I don’t have time for people on my team dicking around and playing pocket pool. Second, don’t tell me how to handle my team. This is my investigation and I’m running the show here.” He paused for effect before continuing. “Now I know that none of you are happy about that fact, but it is a fact. If you don’t want to be part of this team and act as a team, I’ll see about having you pulled off the case. There are always tickets to write.”
John didn’t respond. He just rolled his eyes and fumbled with some papers on his desk. It was a poor attempt at trying to look like he was done with the conversation and getting back to work. He wanted to jump across his desk and show that little punk Huft just exactly what he was in charge of. That wouldn’t do him any good though.
Steve shifted his gaze back to Cheeks, “Now, where’d you get it?”
The scolding had cured his nervousness and replaced it with irritation, “I told you. It was an anonymous tip. I can’t give you info I don’t have.”
Steve shook his head and sighed, “Fine. Get me the fucking search warrant. I don’t want to see your face again until it’s in your hand.”
John chuckled and – under his breath – said, “Sending the left hand to jerk off, boss?”
“Fuck you!” The case had him tense. Normally he could let the jibes slide off. He was used to them. The lack of progress was too damn frustrating though. The jibes weren’t sliding off so easy. “What have you got, Chuckles? Do you have any leads?”
John stopped laughing and shifted gears, “No, nothing yet.”
“Well I guess you’ve got work to do then. I’m going to lunch.”
“It’s only ten thirty.”
“Yeah, well I’ve been here since four fifteen. I’m going to lunch. I’ll be back later.”
Steve didn’t look up from his desk, “Cool. Vinny let the lease run out on his place in Milwaukee a couple of months ago. His parent’s house is the only lead we’ve got right now. Where did you get it?”
Cheeks averted his eyes, even though he didn’t need to. Steve wasn’t looking at him anyway. “Anonymous tip, the caller wouldn’t give their name.”
Now Steve looked up, “Anonymous tip my ass. Where’d you get it?”
“I’m telling you, anonymous tip.” He shifted slightly from foot to foot, a nervous habit he was aware of but couldn’t remedy. The shifting was nearly imperceptible, but Steve noticed.
“Come on. Where’d you get it? Why’s it such a big secret?” annoyance slipped into Steve’s tone. He didn’t like games and he didn’t like members of his team concealing information. A team needed to move as a unit, one interconnected being. When people start concealing information from each other, the team loses strength and eventually falls apart. Individuals become cowboys chasing glory and they lose sight of the goal.
John Kominski piped in from his desk, “What’s the damn difference where he got it? If he says it was an anonymous tip, then it was an anonymous tip. Who the hell cares? The important thing is that he’s got it. Instead of interrogating him, you should be getting somebody on the search warrant.”
Steve shifted his gaze from Cheeks to John. “First of all, if we’re going to get anywhere, we need to move as a unit. The right hand needs to know what the left hand is doing. Right now, I’m the right hand and I don’t know what the fuck the left hand is doing. I don’t have time for people on my team dicking around and playing pocket pool. Second, don’t tell me how to handle my team. This is my investigation and I’m running the show here.” He paused for effect before continuing. “Now I know that none of you are happy about that fact, but it is a fact. If you don’t want to be part of this team and act as a team, I’ll see about having you pulled off the case. There are always tickets to write.”
John didn’t respond. He just rolled his eyes and fumbled with some papers on his desk. It was a poor attempt at trying to look like he was done with the conversation and getting back to work. He wanted to jump across his desk and show that little punk Huft just exactly what he was in charge of. That wouldn’t do him any good though.
Steve shifted his gaze back to Cheeks, “Now, where’d you get it?”
The scolding had cured his nervousness and replaced it with irritation, “I told you. It was an anonymous tip. I can’t give you info I don’t have.”
Steve shook his head and sighed, “Fine. Get me the fucking search warrant. I don’t want to see your face again until it’s in your hand.”
John chuckled and – under his breath – said, “Sending the left hand to jerk off, boss?”
“Fuck you!” The case had him tense. Normally he could let the jibes slide off. He was used to them. The lack of progress was too damn frustrating though. The jibes weren’t sliding off so easy. “What have you got, Chuckles? Do you have any leads?”
John stopped laughing and shifted gears, “No, nothing yet.”
“Well I guess you’ve got work to do then. I’m going to lunch.”
“It’s only ten thirty.”
“Yeah, well I’ve been here since four fifteen. I’m going to lunch. I’ll be back later.”
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