mm_kel (mm_kel) wrote in morningstar_mnr, @ 2010-06-03 11:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | allan, andy, au, chas, deacon, max, npc, seth |
AU - Various places, various people
Deacon firmly believed that everything happened for a reason. Like his insane idea to take Charlie Shaw out shopping yesterday. Okay yes he'd had fun - quite a bit actually - and yes Shaw was good company and... Oh who was he kidding. He was attracted to the little Brit and that was probably a very bad idea since Shaw was one, only here temporarily and two, a victim in a case that the force was working on. Okay so it wasn't as bad as if Deacon himself had been involved in that case but still.
Generally a bad idea.
But that shopping trip had lead Deacon to learn a bit about Shaw's taste in clothes and some of the outfits he'd lost when his bag was stolen and so when Deacon happened to catch sight of a young man in Vine Square looking a bit shifty and watching a couple of women who were window shopping close and wearing a rugby jersey identical to one Shaw had said he lost - well maybe it hadn't been such a bad idea after all.
Deacon had stuck close, tailing the kid and moving in when he saw the tale tell signs of a purse snatching about to happen. The kid had barely gotten two steps away with the purse before he was taken down by Deacon, handcuffed, and hauled back to the station.
"Sean Fletcher," Deacon said as he stepped into the interrogation room reading the file with the rather long rap sheet he'd pulled after running the kid's fingerprints. "Seems you've been through this kinda thing before."
Sean glanced up from where he'd been staring at the table in what was obviously an attempt at being tough and Deacon saw the flash of fear in his eyes. And that was good because that meant, with a little pushing, the kid might talk. With a sigh Deacon tossed the file on the table and sat down int he chair opposite.
"Look," he said, "you've obviously done this before. The whole liftin' thing. Now this lady got her stuff back but others - well we know that ain't gonna happen. So here's the deal, this woulda been a nice easy bust except for one thing. Seems there was a muggin' at the airport a few days ago and we got someone sayin' that they saw someone of your description there around the same time." That was a lie but Deacon was rewarded by another quick glance and wide eyes that confirmed his hunch. "And that shirt there - well it matches one that was on the list of items in the bag that was taken. Now you work with me, kid, and I might be able to make this go a little easier on ya."
"Dunno what you mean," Sean said, his nervousness now even more obvious. "Look - i took the purse, okay? You got me, officer." He tried a panicky appeasing smile. "I wasn't at the airport. I - I got this shirt in a thrift store - last month."
"Yeah? Ya get those jeans there too? They look a little short on ya." Deacon raised a brow then leaned on the table. "Look, kid, I got folks that saw ya. I can call 'em up and have 'em come down and do the whole lineup thing but that's gonna take time. That means you stay shut up in here and it means a lotta paperwork for me. Now I just might be able to get the lady from today to drop the charges if you help me out. All we need to do is locate somethin' from that bag at the airport. Somethin' that was a little more valuable than clothes."
"Dunno what you mean," Sean said again, automatically then he looked at Deacon's face and swallowed hard. "I can't," he murmured. "I can't tell you nothing. Please - I done the purse snatch. I do'wanna go back in jail but - but I'd sooner that than ... please."
"Someone got you scared?" Deacon said, brow furrowing a bit. "Damn, kid, what you got yourself into." He sighed. "Look if it's really that bad - we can protect you. You help us out and we'll make sure you're safe. I'll make sure you're safe."
And he meant it.
Sean took a deep breath. "If he knew I'd spoke to you," he faltered, "I'd be dead. I just needed to score, that's all. You know - I really NEEDED to and - and there's this guy who'll take good stuff and credit cards and ID and stuff and - I gave it to him. The picture."
Kinyon. It had to be. He was the only guy in town that could scare the kid enough to be willing to go to jail - and he dealt in the sale of stolen goods among other things. But he needed the kid to say it.
"Just give me his name," Deacon said, "and we'll make sure it's taken care of. And your name will never come up, he'll never know it was you."
Sean put his head in his hands, his fingers scrubbing through his short blond hair, and he took two deep breaths before whispering a name. He whispered quietly but Deacon had sharp ears.
"Kinyon," he said, possibly throwing his life away, possibly being thrown a lifeline, he didn't know which and was too scared to guess. "I gave the painting to Allan Kinyon."
Inwardly Deacon crowed with victory though outwardly he just nodded and stood, squeezing the kid's shoulder.
"Ya did good," he said. "Now you just sit tight and we'll get you taken care of."
Once he was out of the room he pumped his fist in the air and the officers waiting for him all raised a brow.
"We've got Kinyon," he said and they all got excited. "He gave Kinyon the painting. That's all we need to get a warrant to search his home and business. Matt, get the interrogation tape to the district attorney and get us our warrant. Jackson, I told the kid if he talked we'd work with him. Make it happen."
"You got it, boss," Jackson said and went in to the room to talk to Fletcher while Matt got the recording and went to make his phone calls.
Deacon headed to his desk, adrenaline pumping at the thought of finally, finally having a way into Kinyon's buildings, and wondered where the hell his partner was. News like this needed to be shared.
"So?" a laconic voice enquired, just a few minutes later. "Who's had their hands in your pants? Hell, Deac, I haven't seen you this excited since the last Mardi Gras." Friend, partner and long time tormentor, Andy Andrassi offered him a capped Starbucks just the way he liked it and looked around the room in bemusement. "Don't tell me we all got a raise."
Deacon smiled up at Andy as he took the coffee from her. Despite her hard demeanor and sharp tongue she was a gorgeous woman. All sensual curves and thick, dark hair - which she hid most of the time with pant suits and her hair in a braid down her back. But it didn't stop some of the guys from watching her and Deacon was one of them - even if his tastes ran a different direction most of the time now a days.
"Better than a raise," he said, leaning back in his chair with a grin. "Matt's callin' the DA right now. Gettin' a warrant for Kinyon's buildings."
"You are fucking kidding!" Andy said and swore as her coffee slopped over the brim. She reached for tissues, found the box empty and swore again. "So how did you manage that, Dumbledore?"
"Well I took this guy home," he said then cut her off as she started in on him. "No, seriously, listen. I was at the hospital talkin' to that pusher, you know calls himself Slick? Anyway there was this guy there that had been mugged at the airport. Had just flown in from England. Anyway he was gonna be stayin' with a friend at the Manor so I gave him a lift."
He took a sip of his coffee and when Andy raised a brow he continued.
"Yesterday I ran into him in the Mocha and he was wearin' borrowed clothes so I took him shoppin'. Don't look at me like that. Even you'd have taken him for clothes. Anyway we got to talkin' about the stuff he'd lost when his bag was stolen and just an hour ago I noticed this kid in Vine Square wearin' a shirt that fit the description of one Shaw had lost in his bag. And the kid stole this lady's purse so I brought him in. Had a hunch ya see. And it paid off. Cuz the real thing Shaw's been worried about that was in that bag was a painting. An expensive painting. And this kid just told me he sold it to Allan Kinyon."
"An expensive painting? Shit, not the one of City Hall," Andy snickered delightedly. "At this rate, Deac you'll be Chief before you're forty-five. Aint you just damn thrilled?"
But there was something else that had him feeling a little thrill as well. If they were lucky they'd find the painting. Charlie Shaw's painting.
And there was a bit of Deacon that really wanted to be the hero that brought it back to him.
###
Later - outside O'Malley's, evening.
They had covered all exits and were as ready as they could be. Deacon had asked for, and had been given, a full team and the blessings of all the powers. Arresting Allan Kinyon for something as relatively minor as receiving stolen goods was, they were sure, just the first step. Once they had some evidence they could go after his bank accounts and poke around the really inconvenient places. Sean Fletcher, enabler, was going to get VIP treatment, and might even turn out a decent kid.
But Andy needed some time to get in the right frame of mind so she continued to ask Deacon inconvenient questions while she made final preparations. "So you took him shopping? Then what?"
Deacon rolled his eyes as he checked his gun. "Then nothin'," he said. "I took him home and came to work. Is this really the time to be discussin' my shoppin' trip?"
Andy grinned. "Well if not that, what else? Oh I know - when are you seeing him again?" She looked at him, her expression bright, and hiding almost all her nervousness. Two years ago on just such an assignment, she hadn't ducked fast enough and had taken a bullet that punctured her lung and broke two ribs. She had made a full recovery and seemed, to most people, to have forgotten all about it.
Except Deacon knew better and so indulged her as he handed her a bullet proof vest. "I don't know when I'll see him again," he said. "It wasn't a date after all. Just a shoppin' trip. Though," and he tried to hide his smile but couldn't quite do it, "he did look damn good in the new clothes."
Andy grunted as she shed her jacket and began to put the vest on, reaching inside it to hitch her boobs into a more comfortable position. "If we find the painting, d'you want me to wrap it up in red tape?" she asked. "Or I could hide it at the back of my locker. Well - if it's found he'll be off home to Blighty, won't he? Might as well see if you can keep him for the full ninety day visa."
He chuckled as he strapped his own vest on. "No you can't hide it," he said. "He's kinda desperate to have it back so we get it back to him. Like we're supposed to. And if that means he goes home... well..."
He shrugged but Andy probably could see that the thought of Charlie Shaw going home so soon wasn't really something Deacon wanted to think about. "I dunno, Andy. There's just something - right - about having him around. I guess I'll just have to hope he doesn't hop the first flight back to England, huh."
"I could arrest him," Andy mused. "As a last resort. Handcuff him to a chair, then he wouldn't be able to get away from you. And then you could - hey - who's that?"
People had been coming and going from the bar but this was something a bit different. A hummer pulled up, crawled past and paused at the entrance to the alleyway at the side of the building. She could just see someone getting out - tall, broad shouldered, blond - then the vehicle pulled away again and she had a glimpse of the alley door closing behind the tall man. She was sure he was familiar.
"Time?" she asked.
"Oh yeah," Deacon said with the kind of smile that usually meant bad news for someone.
With the ease of a well oiled machine everyone moved into position, making sure no one could leave the alley exit as Deacon, Andy and another squad went through the front door. Gus O'Malley, manager and former owner of the building, looked up from the bar, eyes going wide.
"City Police," Deacon said, raising his badge. "We have a warrant to search the building. Where's Kinyon?"
Gus swallowed and his eyes darted to the door leading to the back but he stayed silent. Deacon nodded and sent a section of the men with them to check the kitchen and cover the main room while the rest headed for the back.
"Ready?" he said, looking at them all and on three they burst through the door, guns drawn. "City Police, nobody move!"
There was the utter stillness of shock but it didn't last long. The two men at the desk were the first to move, one diving towards another door and Kinyon snapping off the lights Then in the dimness the others rallied and according to nature ran or fought or surrendered.
A cold eyed thug called Dwyer threw a chair at Deacon. Andy ducked a punch thrown by another man and darted after Kinyon's guest, screaming an order to stop.
Deacon had dodged the chair and ran forward gun at the ready. "Get down!" he yelled at Dwyer who, naturally, ignored him and was lunging for a gun. Deacon swore under his breath and pulled the trigger and Dwyer went down with a shout of pain as the bullet tore through his leg.
Deacon had moved to check on him when he saw a flash of a dark hair and a familiar profile darting behind a shelf. "Jackson, cover Dwyer!" he shouted and ran after the fleeing form. Pressed against the wall near a corner Deacon took a few deep breaths and quickly glanced around the corner. It was clear so he moved down the hall, gun held at the ready and listening closely.
So he wasn't taken completely by surprise when Kinyon jumped him at the next corner. The Irishman came at him low, one hand grabbing for his genitals and the other stabbing out towards his throat as he blocked the grab. But he didn't just block the grab, Deacon dropped to his knees, Kinyon's jab at his throat going over his head while Deacon grabbed the hand headed for his crotch at the wrist, twisting it painfully and yanking downward, pulling Kinyon off balance and bringing the hand holding the gun up hard, clocking Kinyon under the chin. Blood flew as the flesh split and Kinyon gave at the knees. Then he rallied and, too furious to acknowledge that he was beaten, he rammed his shoulder into Deacon's gut and lifted him back and up to crash into the corner. The Irishman was roaring incoherently and grappling for the gun.
Deacon grunted as hit the corner, shoulder popping out of socket and making him howl and his grip on the gun loosen. But before Kinyon could rip it out of his slackened grip Deacon brought his good arm up, slamming his elbow down hard on Kinyon's shoulder. Both lost their grips on the gun and it fell, Deacon kicking it far across the floor and then went at Kinyon with everything he had, dislocated shoulder be damned.
Kinyon was hurt but he didn't seem to be likely to go down any time soon and he seemed intent on killing Deacon if he could. Weakened by the blow to his jaw, which was still pouring blood, he snarled curses as they grappled. These garbled roars attracted Andy's attention as she handed her captive over to a couple of uniforms and she rounded the corner with a smirk on her face.
"Stop playing with him, Deac," she ordered, then, "Shit!" as she noticed his arm dangling loose. "Matt," she yelled but wasted no more time in tackling Kinyon from the side. Stamping on the back of his knee she buckled his leg under him and punched him in the throat as he reached a convenient height.
"Concentrate on trying to breathe you son of a bitch," she said as she flipped him onto his front and busied herself with handcuffs. "You wanna read him his rights, Deac? Go on - you know you want to."
"Hell yes I want to," Deacon growled, pulling himself up and spitting blood from his mouth. "Allan Kinyon you're under arrest. Anything you say can and most definitely will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney - which I'm sure you've got - but in case you don't one will be appointed to you by the court. Do you understand your rights as I've read them to you, asshole?"
Kinyon made some sort of strangled noise and Deacon smirked.
"I'll take that as a yes. Get him the fuck outta here, Matt."
"With pleasure," matt said and he and jackson levered a still spitting Kinyon to his feet and manhandled him away.
"Did you enjoy that?" Andy said, smiling as she caught his eye. She took his shoulder in one hand and his wrist in the other and waited for the nod.
"Immensely," he said then nodded and gave a shout as she popped his shoulder back in place. "That's better. Thanks."
"Not so fast buster," she said, wiping her finger across his chin and showing it to him bloodied. "I'm taking you to ER. You're still leaking. C'mon, you know the drill for head injuries."
Deacon rolled his eyes but followed her - after he'd retrieved his gun and returned it to his hostler. As they past Kinyon's desk something caught his eye. Several boxes were stacked there and one had a swatch of bubble wrap spilling over the edge.
"Hang on," he said, heading for the open box, and peeled the wrap back a bit more. Then smiled. "Someone up there likes me today," he said, eyeing the painting inside.
"Hey, is that the one?" Andy said peering round his shoulder. "Oh, and looky here." She took a pen from her pocket and used it to shift some of the other items around. "Several sets of ID, including passports. Hey, wasn't there some Dutchman mugged last month? There's a set here name of Vanderpoele."
"Oh we have him on so much," Deacon breathed, the thrill of finally catching Kinyon overpowering the pain from his shoulder and other injuries. "We need to get this all back to the station and logged in. But this one," he pointed to the painting, "I want to be the one to let him know we got it back."
Andy rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay lover boy, but FIRST we secure the evidence and get the prisoners put away and THEN get you stitched up and then you can ring the Brit. No! My word is law."
"Yes, mom," Deacon said with a grin, motioning some of the other uniforms over to begin the collection. Much as he might want to call Charlie now and tell him about the painting there were procedures to go through. The phone call could wait a few hours.
Besides, he was beginning to hurt.
###
Later still - St Martin's ER - again
Andy was watching for him when he came out. She had one hand on her ear and the other holding her phone and was talking animatedly. As he watched she laughed and grinned at him and when he got in earshot she was saying, "I'd like that. Yeah, thanks. Here he is now. Speak to you soon, hun."
She offered him the phone and said, "Guess who."
"Aw hell you didn't," Deacon groaned and sighed. His right arm was in a sling - even though the muscles weren't torn they wanted him to wear it for at least twenty four hours - and he had some stitches in his head. A little battered and bruised but that was about it. He put the phone to his ear. "Hey, mom."
"Well st least you souind okay this time," his mother said with a sigh. There had been times when he had sounded pretty rough. "Well done for catching that man - you know the one I mean. You gott enough to put him away?"
"Yeah looks like it," he replied. "At least enough to start things in the right direction. Small stuff right now but there was enough to start investigatin' the bigger things. And I dunno what Andy told ya but I'm fine. Just a little roughed up. Nothin' to worry about. How're things there?"
"The chickens are off their lay," his mother said. "I think maybe there's a fox? But it could just be the season. Are you still coming to dinner Saturday night?"
"Yeah," he said then paused. "Um - though I might bring someone. Maybe. I dunno. If it's okay I mean."
There was a moment's quiet then Jessica said, "Really? Well that would be just fine, Deacon. So who is ... he?"
He glanced at Andy, who was pretending not to listen. "Just someone visitin' the City. He's staying with a friend at the Manor. Grew up on a farm back in the UK and made cider. Just - thought he might like to see your place. And I don't even know if he'll want to come but..."
"From England," Jessica said, a smile quite audible in her voice. "Then tell him I'll make apple crumble and custard. Brits like that and I bet he's getting homesick. And a farmer too. I'll look forward to meeting him."
Deacon smiled a bit. "If he wants to come," he reminded her. "I better go, mom. Need to finish up some paperwork.
"All right, hun," Jessica said. "Why not come a little early on Saturday? Then your guest can look round the farm. No need to call ahead. I'll make plenty and expect you when I see you. Take care."
The line went dead and Andy stopped picking her nails and said, with suspicious innocence, "So how did it go?"
"You're not funny," Deacon said, handing her back her phone. "Not at all. Just want you to know that." But it was said with great affection - especially considering what he was about to ask. She'd give him a hard time for it but still... "So - do you think they'd let me take the painting to him and surprise him with it? And have him come in tomorrow morning to fill out the paperwork?"
Yes, dammit, he wanted to surprise Charlie - be the hero.
Andy waggled her hand. "Guess we'll have to talk to the guy in charge of the case. Aldred? Yeah, Aldred. He's a tight ass and a pig. Never looks me in the eye, always talks to my tits. Talks a LOT." She raised her eyebrows at him. "Guess I'd better ask him for you."
"I'd love you forever," Deacon said as they left the hospital and went to her car. "Even more than I already do."
Andy was thumbing a number on her phone and just gave him a simper, fluttering her eyelashes, then put the phone to her ear. "Oh hey, Aldred," she said and after three fast talking minutes signed off with a grimace. "He's taking me bowling Tuesday," she said, "and you owe me. You SO owe me and I'm gonna take it out of your hide if he tries to put his hand in my pants."
Deacon beamed at her. "Anythin' ya want, darlin'. Anything at all. I am your devoted slave." He even kissed her then climbed into the car, looking forward to what was to come.
***
And yet later...
It was quite late when Deacon finally arrived outside Seth Roth's door. He wasn't even totally sure they'd be in but a hunch had said they would be and Deacon was used to following his hunches. With the painting propped against the wall next to the door he knocked.
Late or not Seth was still up and answered the door cautiously, grinning when he saw who it was. "Oh hey, Detective," he said then narrowed his eyes a bit when he noticed the arm in a sling and the bruises and such on Deacon's face. "Damn are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Deacon said and glanced past Seth into the apartment. "Charlie wouldn't happen to be here would he? I know it's late but..." he nodded towards the painting and Seth leaned out to see what he was looking at then covered his mouth with his hand to stiffle the squeak of excitement.
"Yeah," Seth said, all but bouncing. "Yeah he's here. He's just in my studio. Why don't you come in and I'll get him."
Deacon grinned his thanks and they got the painting in and propped against the couch and Seth went to the studio, poking his head in. "Hey, Charlie, you've got a visitor."
"Visitor?" Charlie said looking up from his painting. They had set up the easels back to back and had been painting and chatting all evening. He put his brush down and went to the door. "Oh lord what happened to you?" he demanded as soon as he saw Deacon. "I bet the other guy looks worse."
Actually Kinyon was under guard in hospital with a fractured jaw and would be feeling pretty sorry for himself when he came around from the anaesthetic. But Deacon didn't say that, just smiled - touched that Charlie seemed worried about him.
"Had a little disagreement with someone," he said and then stepped out from in front of the painting. "He disagreed with me bringin' this back to you."
"He dis - what?" Charlie stared then darted over to the painting and dropped to one knee beside it. "Oh God," he said. "Oh thank God."
Then he covered his eyes with one hand and went very still and very quiet.
Deacon looked at Seth with a raised brow but Seth just smiled softly and mouthed 'overcome'. Deacon nodded and looked down at the man next to him. He had the sudden urge to stroke Charlie's hair but instead he laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.
"You'll have to go in to the station first thing in the morning and fill out the paperwork but - I knew you wanted it back soon. So I pulled a few strings and they let me bring it here."
The shoulder under his hand heaved as Charlie took a deep breath then he stood and turned to face Deacon, his eyes a little bright but obviously back under control. "Thank you," he said, looking up at Deacon. "You have no idea what this means for the family. Thank you SO much. Oh and to the rest of the team as well, but mostly, thank you." He tried to smile. "If I was likely to have a first born, and you had a use for such a thing, I'd be having it gift wrapped. Oh I must ring Tildy, she's been going frantic!"
"Well go on then. I should really get some rest. Whatever they gave me at the ER is startin' to kick in I think." He smiled - a soft smile, perhaps a little sad because the painting returned would mean Charlie would go home. "I can pick you up in the morning though. Take you to the station for that paperwork?"
"Oh but ..." Charlie began, looking at the sling. Then he saw Seth, behind Deacon, making encouraging faces at him. "That would be most kind," he said primly. "What time should I be ready?"
"Sooner we get there the quicker it's done so... nine?" he suggested.
"I'll have him ready," Seth promised. "Thank you so much, Detective. You don't know how important this was."
"Hey no problem," Deacon said with a smile. "It actually helped us. I've been after this guy forever and just so happened that he bought the paintin' from the kid that swiped it. You get your paintin' back and I finally get the douchebag I've been after. Win win for everyone."
"Yes?" Charlie said. "Well everything's turned out fine. I'm so glad you - er - caught the bad guy. Nne in the morning." he smiled at Deacon, more evenly now the tightness was fading from the bruises. "Meet you in the lobby?"
"Sounds good," Deacon said and headed for the door. "I'll see ya in the mornin'."
"Goodbye, Deacon," Charlie said. "Sleep well."
Seth let Deacon out then turned to Charlie and pounced him with a squeal of excitement - both at the return of the painting and that he'd be seeing Deacon the next day.
Charlie who had half expected it grabbed him and swung him round before setting him down on the couch and flopping down beside him. "So, he said," no need to hang around in the gym tomorrow. D'you think I should still try and jump him, though. He looks pretty damaged to me and I wouldn't want to make matters worse."
"Hell yes you should," Seth said. "Just be gentle." He grinned wickedly.
"I'll do my best not to get carried away," Charlie said. "Heck i wouldn't want to get arrested." he sighed and gave Seth's leg a squeeze because it was there. "I ought to ring Tildy," he said. "Then she and Derek can get to spending the money."
"Yeah give her a call. I want to hear her squeal." Seth grinned. "And I'll make us some tea in celebration."
"Thanks, Seth," Charlie said and went to fetch his phone, but he didn't sigh until he was out of earshot. He hadn't told Seth the whole story - in fact he didn't much like thinking of it himself.