Back in March
“What you’re talking about sounds a lot like a bribe, sir,” Lou said cautiously to the councilor.
“Don’t insult me,” he said. “This investigation cannot be permitted to have an impact on my career. The commissioner is familiar with the situation. Talk to him and don’t bother me again.”
“You’re suggesting…?” Lou started to ask.
“I’m not ‘suggesting’ anything,” he said, giving her a dark look. “Look, miss, either you handle this or your boss does. All that matters is that it will be handled with discretion. Do you understand me?”
“Yeah, I understand perfectly,” Lou said, giving him a smile and taking care not to bare her teeth at him. “I’ll talk to the chief, and we’ll get things sorted out.”
“Good,” he said. “Now get out of my house.”
“Yes, sir,” Lou said, and promptly turned on her heels.
Her hands ached from clenching the steering wheel too tightly the entire drive back to headquarters. She couldn’t get the memory of the bruises out of her head. Or the look on his wife’s face. Hopelessness - no one should look like that.
It was all she could do to not storm into the police chief’s office when she got in. She feigned patience as she waited for him to be available.
“Sir, there’s a problem,” she said, as soon as she went inside.
“Yes, there is, Williams,” the chief said while giving her a dark look. “First, you don’t come barging into my office like that.”
“Er… sorry, sir,” she said. “It’s just that -”
“And secondly, you wait for me to give you permission to speak,” he said frostily. “Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, her lips tight.
“It’s good that you came here,” he said. “I was about to call for you. Why are you on Councilor Harrison’s case?”
“Uh,” she stuttered a little in surprise. “Sergeant Moore said he was too busy, and to just grab some of the new cases from his desk. I thought a domestic violence case would be a good one for me.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation.
“I’ll need to have a word with Moore, then,” he said. “Williams, in the future, if you’re helping other detectives on cases, you are to individually check each of those cases with them, in case they relate to pre-existing situations. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“Now, Moore was selected for this case specifically, because he’s worked on it before,” he said. “That means you’re off the case. You’re to turn over all materials you’ve collected on the subject over to him immediately. Is that understood?”
“I do understand, sir,” she said. “However, I have a concern.”
“Really,” he said, his tone cold. “And what exactly would that be?”
“Sir, I spoke to the councilor, and he offered a bribe,” she said.
“This is why the matter belongs to Detective Moore,” he said. “Dealing with the councilor requires a certain amount of tact and discretion. What the councilor offered was not a bribe. His regular donations and political support for the BPD help keep the city as a whole safe. That is what we are here to do, isn’t it, probationary officer Williams?”
“What about his wife and kids?” she asked, trying to keep her voice level.
“The allegations that Mrs. Harrison made against her husband have never gone to trial, and you may remember that people are innocent until proven guilty,” he said coolly. “This department is not going to lose the Councilor’s support over unsubstantiated allegations. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, her throat tight.
“Good,” he said. “After handing over your materials, get back to work.”
“Yes, sir,” she said again, and spun on her heels.
Tension filled every inch of her body as she collected the materials she’d gathered. Witness statements. Hospital bills. Doctor’s statement. Photographs.
This would not stand.
She quickly made a copy of all her materials by hand, skipping her lunch to do so. Afterwards, she begrudgingly handed over the folder to Moore, who told her off for grabbing the wrong case. He’d not even realized it was in the stack.
Afterwards, Lou did not get back to work on her other cases. Instead, she walked with deliberate calm over to O’Brien’s office.
He glanced up at her and his expression tightened.
“I did skip lunch today,” he said, as she started to open her mouth to speak. “Thanks for reminding me. I could use some decent coffee. Have you tried out Cafe Crisp down the street yet? They’ve got quick food.”
“Uh, no, I haven’t,” she said, the wind knocked out of her sails.
“Good,” he said, standing up. “I’ve also got some more cases I can drop on you, and we can go over them together while we’re there before you take them on. Let’s go.”
She followed him with a huff. She didn’t say a word as they walked, and he seemed entirely content with that.
Too content. She still wasn’t used to how much more calm and relaxed he seemed lately. He’d had a bad week at the end of February, but after that, the stress seemed to fade away. She’d figured it was too personal to ask, and he hadn’t mentioned, so she was left wondering.
They arrived at the little shop. O’Brien got them both some coffee and some pastries, then led her over to a table towards the back. The shop had a radio blaring too loudly about the Soviets attacking a city in Finland. She listened for a moment, and couldn’t help but feel for the civilians there. The Soviets had one hell of a force, and Lou could only imagine the slaughter. The sound of Kito screaming in pain came back to her mind and she suppressed a shudder.
“I wish I didn’t know that look,” O’Brien said, giving her a sad smile. “You stumbled into something, I take it.”
“You know about Councilor Harrison?” she asked.
He nodded and her body tensed.
“You know?” she asked, nearly hissing. “You know, and you’re doing nothing?”
He took a sip of his coffee.
“It’s not the first time,” he said quietly. “And I don’t mean this case. I take it you spoke to the chief.”
“He’s accepting bribes, O’Brien,” she said, keeping her voice as quiet as she could manage. “Accepting bribes! He gave me this bullshit about protecting the entire city and how that matters more than the bastard’s wife and kids!”
“I know,” he said quietly.
“O’Brien,” she said, “We can’t just do nothing.”
He sighed.
“There’s not much we can do,” he said, and he looked at her with the face of an eighty year old man. “I’m sorry.”
“You can’t be serious,” she said. “You’re just going to let this go? I thought you were a good person!”
He didn’t seem to take offense.
“A lot of people have tried,” he said, his voice heavy. “Did you ever wonder why we had a hard time filling the ranks, even with the depression?”
She blinked.
“I didn’t think about it,” she said.
“People have been giving you a hard time because you’re new, and because you’re a woman,” he said, and she nodded. “But you haven’t even begun to see how bad it can get. As much as they don’t want to deal with the bad stuff, they don’t want to scare away everyone new before they can handle it.”
She frowned.
“You’re saying if I push this, it’ll make my life harder,” she said.
“What we put up with can break anyone,” he said, and she heard a tremor in his voice. “The more you care, the easier it is to crack under that kind of pressure. Coppers who push back too hard… they’ll get broken, or they’re fired. Or one then the other. And, if needed, silenced in some way or another.”
“You’re saying that I could get killed?” she asked.
His face was painfully tight.
“There’s been a few odd coincidences,” he said. “And one thing you just can’t do is investigate another officer. So I can’t say for sure.”
“You’re in charge of the homicide unit, and you can’t investigate other officers?” she asked.
“I’m just in charge of all the cases,” he said with a sigh. “Chief Roberts is in charge of the unit - and therefore, me. And only Internal Affairs can investigate officers.”
“So why doesn’t Internal Affairs do something?” she asked.
His face remained drawn.
“Fuck,” she said. “Them, too?”
“All I can say about that is that they regularly report that the BPD is free of corruption,” he said. “Barring occasional officers who, coincidentally, were inconvenient.”
Lou glared at him. He continued to calmly drink his coffee in silence.
“You’re saying that I should drop this,” she said coldly. “Because some fucking corrupt assholes are running the fucking BPD and they might fucking murder me to keep me quiet on the subject, if I don’t break from their assholery first.”
“I can’t tell you what you should do,” he said. “I can only tell you what I chose. I decided that I became an officer to help people, and I’d help more people on the force than I would as a civilian or a corpse.”
“Fuck this and fuck you,” she said, glowering at him.
“My feelings exactly,” he said with a dry laugh. “Look, Lou. No matter what happens, I’ve got your back. I’m trying to do the best I can, and I’ve probably made some wrong choices along the way. Just… don’t take on more than you can handle. You need to think about this.”
“I don’t need to think about this, O’Brien,” she said, almost snarling at him. “This is not okay. I am not going to fucking stand by and let a woman and her kids get fucking sent to the fucking hospital because some fucking asshole has money and sway. You hear me?”
He smiled at her, and something in his smile made her rage cool.
“Flamus,” he said under his breath.
“Huh?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“Something Aera was teaching me about,” he said. “Another way of understanding who people are. This isn’t really a choice for you, is it?”
“No, it isn’t,” she said. “Tell me, O’Brien. How do I fix this?”
“Before I give you anything,” he said. “You tell me straight. This is something you’re willing to get ridiculed for, mocked, stomped on, tormented, fired, and possibly killed, all for just a chance that you might make things a little better.”
She glowered at him again. But she did think about it. At least, she tried. It was a frightening prospect, and she didn’t want to die, but that didn’t feel as real as the bruise on Mrs. Harrison’s side. Or the way her youngest son looked when Lou asked him questions about his dad.
And none of it felt as real as the gut wrenchingly unacceptable idea of standing by and doing nothing when that was going on.
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“Bring it on,” she said.
He looked at her for a long moment and she held his gaze. After a while, he was satisfied with what he saw and closed his eyes. He looked a little green.
“God, I hope I’m not getting you killed,” he muttered.
He slowly pulled out a pen and his notepad and wrote down a number and a name. He tore off the paper and slid it over to her.
“Who’s this?” she asked.
“A contact in the FBI,” he said. “You won’t get anywhere in the BPD directly, and since you’re new, the FBI won’t take you seriously. But… I know a guy, and he owes me a favor. Tell him I gave you his number, and I can confirm what you’re telling him off the record. I can do more to smooth things over for you if I’m not in the spotlight. You might be able to get a real investigation in the works. You’ll have to let him know that the corruption includes Internal Affairs, which is why you’re not going through them. The FBI will have to be careful not to tip anyone off about the investigation, because they’re good at covering their tracks when they get nervous.”
He stood up as though his bones were made of lead.
“Anything else I should know?” she asked, as she stood up next to him.
“Aera made you one of those anti bullet enchantments, right?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Wear it,” he said. “Wear it, and for the love of god, please be careful.”
“I will,” she said. “Thanks.”
“This is not something to thank me for,” he said, turning away. “I’m sorry.”
He left and she had a feeling he’d rather her not come with. She looked at the pain in his movements and made a quiet resolution. She wasn’t exactly suicidal to begin with, but this was a more compelling reason not to die. She couldn’t bear the thought of adding more burdens to that man’s shoulders.
First things first. She had a woman and children to save.
A phone call was followed by a drive in her personal truck, rather than the police cruiser. She arrived at the councilor’s house and discussed options with Mrs. Harrison.
“You need to get away from him,” Lou said.
“We don’t have anywhere to go,” Mrs. Harrison said with a sigh. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but we’re trapped here.”
“If you had a place, somewhere, you would take the kids and leave?” Lou asked.
“Of course I would,” Mrs. Harrison said. “He almost killed Johnny.”
Lou stared at her, but it looked like the woman was being straight. She reached into her pocket, pulled out her keys, and started pulling one off the chain.
“This is the key to my house,” she said. “It’s big - a family home, but currently, it’s just a friend of ours that’s staying there. She’s nice, don’t mind her. You take yourself and your kids there for now. Change your name, and no one has to know where you went. You stay as long as you need until this blows over.”
“Your… your personal home?” Mrs. Harrison said, her eyes watering.
“Yeah,” Lou said, and started writing down the address. “Look, I’ve been taken off the case, so I’m having to push the investigation from another angle. Might take a bit longer than it ought.”
“But at least you’re trying,” Mrs. Harrison said. “Every other time… they always just stopped. Thank you, Detective Williams.”
“Just doing my job,” Lou said, feeling a little awkward.
“No,” Mrs. Harrison said. “I cannot thank you enough. This is more than anyone else has ever done for us.”
“Then they failed at their job,” Lou said, a little heat worming its way into her voice.
Mrs. Harrison smiled warmly at that, thanked Lou again, and immediately began gathering up her children to pack.
Lou left, and found a pay phone. She called Aera, hoping she’d be home.
“Hello?” the strangely accented voice answered.
“Good, you’re home,” Lou said. “You’re going to have some company for a while.”
“I am?” Aera answered, sounding confused and pleased. “Who?”
“Some folks from a case I’m working on,” Lou said. “They need a safe place to stay for a while, and I offered my house, since there’s nowhere else. Gotta keep it quiet that they’re there.”
“That’s wonderful,” Aera said. “Do they like dogs?”
“... what?” Lou asked, startled. “I didn’t ask, why?”
“Because I have a dog now,” she said. “But I need to find a home for him soon. I’m almost done with him.”
“What are you talking about?” Lou asked, holding back a sigh of exasperation.
“I’m learning to transform into a dog!” Aera said happily. “It’s so I can move in with O’Brien.”
“Right,” Lou said, deciding that this was not a subject to pursue, for her sanity’s sake. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Just remember that they can’t see any magic.”
“Yes, yes,” Aera said. “I’m sure they’ll like him. He’s very friendly.”
“Look, Aera, they’ll be heading over pretty soon,” Lou said.
“I’ll get everything ready!” Aera said. “And I’m learning to cook, too. Maybe I’ll make them something. When are they coming?”
“I don’t know,” Lou said. “Soon. Just giving you a heads up. I have to get back to work.”
“Very well,” Aera said. “You should call again sometime, when you’re not busy! It’s been too long.”
“Not sure when I won’t be busy,” Lou said.
“I understand,” Aera said. “Liam’s always busy, too. Good luck with your work, Lou!”
“Thanks,” Lou said. “Bye, Aera.”
She hung up the phone and shook her head. That girl was an unending headache. She glanced around nervously, but she was in a phone booth, and no one could hear her. She dialed the number O’Brien had given her.
“Senior Special Agent Kramos,” a man’s voice answered.
“Hello, sir,” Lou said, pushing down her nerves with all she had. “I am Detective Williams with the Boston Police Department. Do you have a moment?”
“How did you get this number?” Kramos asked.
“Lieutenant Detective O’Brien gave it to me, and said he’s calling in a favor,” she said.
“Why isn’t he calling?” he asked.
“The fallout’s going to be on me,” she said. “But O’Brien says you can call him to confirm everything I’m reporting, off the record.”
“Interesting,” he said.
There was the faint sound of movement, like he was changing position, or grabbing something.
“What’s this about?” he asked, sounding interested.
So she told him.
The next few weeks were tense for Lou. No one knew there was an investigation happening - at least, not that she could tell. She had to pretend to be going along with the chief’s attempt to silence her. She also pretended she had no idea where the councilor’s wife and kids disappeared to.
It irked Lou that the officers were generally treating her better. It was like they felt she could be relied on for the long term, now that she’d backed off the case like she’d been told. She caught a lot of looks on faces that she previously wouldn’t have understood, but now recognized as a sense of solidarity, of recognizing her choice of the lesser evil.
It was hard to focus on her work.
It was difficult and chaotic under the best of circumstances, and these were not the best of circumstances. With O’Brien’s recommendation, she went straight into detective work instead of having to be a beat cop first. This was in part due to the fact that the Bureau of Investigations was painfully short staffed - the BPD had lost a lot of people in the labor strikes in ‘19 and resulting political shitstorm, and hadn’t recovered. “Regular” cops were needed in larger numbers than detectives, since it seemed like the BPD was big on keeping up an image of having enough manpower to keep the city safe. In the Bureau of Investigations, though, it was painfully obvious that it was failing miserably in that task. Boston had some of the worst crime rates in the country. Murders, especially.
She wasn’t put in homicide, or any unit, outright - rather, as a newbie, she was practically a janitor for all of the units. The whole Bureau was all in Police Headquarters, which made it simpler. Any cases that were minor, or inconvenient, or assumed to be straightforward legwork, they dropped on her. Beyond that, she was often snatched up and sent to gather information to help with other cases. She was “given” a Sergeant as a mentor, whose job included answering questions and either letting her tag along on his cases, or finding people for her to shadow, but the Bureau was busy enough that, after the first few weeks, she almost exclusively worked alone.
On May 7th, an unusual sight caught Lou’s attention. O’Brien had been remarkably healthy since shortly after things had started with Aera, but she noticed he looked pale, as she spotted him walking to his office with another cup of coffee. There was no reason he could be sick with Aera living in his house.
She meandered over to his office. He never bothered closing the door, since he was endlessly walking in and out. It did provide a small measure of privacy; though, between the open doors and thin walls, it wasn’t hard to listen in, if someone were inclined.
“You alright?” she asked, stepping next to him.
He gave her a strange look, as though he were seeing through her completely. He stopped breathing for a moment, then shook his head.
“Fine,” he said. “Sorry. I should have realized it’d be noticeable. Maybe I ought to have taken the day off.”
“You’re sick?” she asked. “Even with the remedies you’ve got?”
“Not something that can be fixed,” he said. “And I’m not sick. I’m… it’s okay, Williams.”
“You’re pale and you’re acting weird,” she said pointedly.
He glanced around carefully, like he thought he could see through the walls, and was looking for eavesdroppers. Lou raised an eyebrow curiously.
“Did she ever tell you about how she can figure people out?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Lou said, frowning. “It’s how she got Slick a cellist for his band.”
He looked startled and then amused at this.
“Did she, now?” he asked, chuckling. “What she does - I can do that, now, too.”
“Oh,” Lou said, taken aback.
“As of last night,” he said. “I can do things and I can see people. See who they are. I’ve been looking at everyone in the department.”
With that his face tightened again and he looked down at his desk.
“It’s bad?” she asked quietly.
“It’s overwhelming,” he said. “It’s not all bad, but… I’m not used to this. Thank you for letting me know that I’m looking off. I think I’ll take an early lunch.”
“Need some company?” she asked.
“No, but thank you,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Sure,” she said.
She left his office with an uneasy feeling. She wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that both her brother and her sort of boss had magic.
After a few days, O’Brien couldn’t handle it anymore. He told the chief that he wasn’t well and needed to take a week off. The chief pushed back, but O’Brien wouldn’t waver. It was the first time he’d pushed for time off in his entire tenure on the job, so eventually the chief gave in and let him have it.
Lou only knew this because O’Brien seemed to have interpreted her quiet curiosity as a question, and he’d freely mentioned it all. It wasn’t like him, which creeped her out.
He and Aera were going to take a week out in the woods, far away from people. He needed to come to terms with the fact that he could see things he knew were truth, and be able to do nothing about them. Previously, it had only been suspicions, coincidences, and uncertainties about what people’s motives were, or exactly how involved they were. Now that he could be certain, it tore him apart to play ignorant.
The department felt colder when he was gone. She realized that she might have felt too isolated to even try to push back, had she not had a more senior detective on her side. Somehow, it just felt less safe without him around.
Which was stupid. They didn’t even work together. It was just the same building, and she said “hi” every few days.
When he returned from his week off, he looked a lot better. He swung by her desk to let her know that he’d gotten the hang of things, so she didn’t need to worry.
It wasn’t long after that when rumors started flying around about an investigation by the FBI. Lou was found by an agent and asked about the location of Mrs. Harrison. After pushing the FBI agent to assure her that Mrs. Harrison would remain safe, Lou gave him the phone number and address.
Days later, everything exploded.
Once the press got word of the results of the investigation, Lou’s entire world was flipped on its head. Her boss and a number of her coworkers were fired, and there was a major reshuffling of authority. The mayor even renounced the Commissioner. The tendrils of corruption ran deep, and according to the press, there had been major connections with the Irish mob. The FBI also found a gambling house that was practically run by the BPD, which Lou hadn’t expected at all.
Of course, everyone wanted to know who tipped off the FBI. Lou wasn’t sure where the information had ultimately come from, but she was pinpointed as the whistleblower.
A number of coworkers who’d covered their trails well enough to avoid getting sacked turned hostile towards her. Others, who were more neutral to the proceedings, weren’t exactly happy with the massive increase in workload that the firings caused. The new BPD commissioner rained hell on everyone’s heads, pushing to ensure that the BPD’s ability to protect the city wouldn’t be compromised.
It was a mess.
The trial for Councilor Harrison was a headache for Lou. It had become the centerpiece of the investigation, from the eyes of the public, as it had been this piece of corruption that had launched the process. Mrs. Harrison had testified to her failed history of working with the police, and hailed Lou as a hero who’d stood up for people.
The war tensions that had been brewing in the city found a place to ignite in the population. Any other time, this would likely have been brushed off, but the people needed to latch onto something. The councilor was being crucified as a symptom, and the crowds were massive. They were crying out for his blood - in some cases, literally.
It didn’t help Lou’s mood that they were more upset about him bribing the police than they were about him beating his wife and kids, but such was life.
Lou had to testify about his attempt to bribe her directly. This brought even more attention on her head, as she was one of the only people willing to testify on the matter.
The jury found him guilty, to the delight of the masses. Once it was over, Lou tried to make her way past the seemingly endless sea of journalists back to her car when she noticed a familiar face.
He was harder to recognize, without his uniform and wearing an angry scowl, but it was definitely Detective Moore. Ex detective, rather.
Not good. She tried to ignore him, and focused on getting to the car.
“You did this!” he yelled as he shoved his way over to her.
Her heart began pounding.
“You destroyed everything, you bitch,” he said as he got closer.
It irked Lou that the journalists were letting him approach, when they’d previously been making it difficult for her to leave. Probably because this was more interesting. She cursed them under her breath.
“Did my job,” she said, still trying to get back to the car.
A waft of something caught her attention and she stiffened. He was drunk.
“This is what you wanted?” he demanded as he got to her. “You wanted to have all these people looking at you like you’re some damned hero?”
“Get out of my face,” she said, trying to walk past him. The car. No one - drunk ex copper or journalist - was getting between her and escape.
“Don’t you ignore me, you traitor,” he said.
That poked a nerve.
“I’m not the one that betrayed the city,” she said, glaring at him.
The journalists looked like they were in heaven. She frowned and resumed trying to get to her car.
“They’re sending me to prison because of you,” he said. “My job, my wife, everything, it’s all because of you!”
“You’ve got a trial, last I heard,” she said. “If you weren’t a traitorous pig, then you’d be fine. But wait, you are. So fuck off.”
“You’re just going to walk away?” he demanded, moving to keep pace with her.
“Good observation,” she said dryly.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” he said.
“Deal with it,” she said.
“Go to hell, bitch,” he said, and she heard a sound that had her turning towards him as fast as she could move.
Time seemed to slow down as she tried to reach for the gun in his hand. Her throat tightened. She couldn’t get shot. He couldn’t get shot. The crowd couldn’t get shot. She had to get him to point the gun straight up or straight down…
There was a deafening boom.
Then she felt an impact.
Lou didn’t spare her bruised stomach so much as a glance as she grabbed the hot gun from the confused man’s hands. He was too drunk to react properly, so she easily knocked him to the ground.
“You’re under arrest,” she said to his prone figure. “Again. You idiot.”
“I shot you,” he protested, as the sounds of cameras clicking filled the air.
“You missed,” she said.
“I didn’t miss,” he said. “What the hell?”
She didn’t have any handcuffs on her at the moment, so she settled for pointing the gun at him threateningly.
“It was pointed right at her,” one of the journalists said.
“How could it have missed?” another asked.
“Did anyone else get shot?”
“There were a lot of people behind her - is everyone okay?”
“No one’s hurt.”
“Where’s the bullet?”
“Was there a misfire?”
Lou simply ignored the horde of journalists and waited for another copper to show up. It didn’t take long before someone she didn’t recognize came by and handcuffed the drunken Moore.
Finally she made it to her god damned car.