Thinking Ahead

Previously: Mark returns to the office, Jeannie goes to therapy and then makes a stop at her other office.

Photo and Graphic by Annie Wilson

4:25 PM - Tuesday, November 4, 2014

SFPD Northern Station, San Francisco 

“Exactly what type of assistance do you need, Hagen?” The Lieutenant sneered quietly. “This isn’t our case, we’re merely contributing as good neighbors.”

“Sir, yes sir. If I may?” Jeannie felt a bead of sweat trickle down between her shoulder blades. 

“Speak.”

“Sir, if and when this case hits the press, which, given the circumstances is a likelihood, it would behoove the department to be seen as supporting the investigation generously rather then simply making a contribution with a single rookie.” Jeannie felt herself blush. The Lieutenant’s eyes flared at her insolence, but she pressed on, raising her chin. “We need to set up a tip line and have it answered, recorded, followed-up on. Even if it’s just one person. We also need assistance sorting through the hundreds of photos and text messages from Halloween night, plus the days prior and days after. In my opinion, sir,” she emphasized, “the SFPD would do well to show it is fully supporting this investigation especially given the caliber of schools and families involved. We all know Presidio Heights and the private prep schools are a who’s who of the city, and I would venture that we should be on the front side of this investigation, rather than waiting for promptings from the press or concerned parents who will think the department isn’t doing enough.” Jeannie swallowed.  The Lieutenant approached her and stood directly in front of her vision.

“Is that what you think, Hagen?” He growled. 

“Sir, yes sir.” She stared at him, unmoved. 

“Alright, alright…” the Captain said from the desk. “That’s enough. Hagen is correct. We do need to show support and well before this hits the press. The last thing I need is every parent in town lighting up our asses because their spoiled little precious doesn’t feel safe, not to mention the Lieutenant Governor or Congresswoman Pelosi.” The Lieutenant backed away to face the Captain. “And if it does hit the press, which it will, because it’s a beautiful young girl who died, you know they’ll be calling us anyway.” The Captain sighed and moved to stand. “You should commend Hagen for thinking ahead. We can’t just be reactionary especially with a high profile case, even if it’s a federal case. This is a chance for us to look good and neighborly, even if we can’t take any credit. Understood?” 

“Yes sir.” The Lieutenant folded his arms across his chest, taking a wide stance. 

“Who can we give her?” The Captain asked the Sergeant.

“I can do Choy and Dunne — I know you three work well together. But that’s all we can do for now. Is two enough?” 

“Sir, thank you sir. Yes, we will do whatever we can with two. Agent Greenberg is also trying to cull more resources. Unfortunately the Park Police team is limited, with most agents available only part-time. Officer Mayfield is working with his office in DC to open up more budget for staff hours.”

“Very good. Okay you two, out.” The Captain nodded at the Lieutenant and Sergeant. “Tell Choy and Dunne their new assignments for tomorrow morning.” The Sergeant moved to pass Jeannie giving her a quick, faint smile. The Lieutenant gave her a hard look-over and moved out slowly, closing the door behind him.

“Well Hagen, what did you do to piss him off?” 

“I have no idea, sir.” The air felt easier to breathe suddenly. “But I’m sure he thinks you’re giving me special treatment and wonders why.” The Captain scoffed. 

“Alright. Then he should take it up with me, not you.” He considered her, planted on the floor in front of him. “What is it you aren’t telling me?”

“Nothing at all, sir. There’s still so much evidence to get through to build the timeline — we’re making it happen, but it’s slow going.”

“And what about this personal photo of you? I don’t like that.”

“Sir, I don’t like it either. I have no idea how they would have found that photo.”

Jeannie stood in front of the station on lower Fillmore, typing the address of the Park Police into Uber. 

“Hagen - need a ride?” A black-and-white pulled out of the parking lot and paused. It was the Sergeant, now wearing an SFPD ball cap. He nodded at her to come get in the car. 

“Are you sure? It’s in the Presidio.”

“It’s fine. Get in.” Jeannie made her way around to the passenger side and joined him in the front seat. 

“Thank you, sir.” She said quietly as she buckled herself in. The radio gave a low murmur from the dashboard, calling out codes. “Where are you headed?” 

“To the Marina — apparently a guy on a bike crashed through a window of a store on Chestnut and took out a bunch of product. Officers on site requested backup - guy’s drunk and the shop owners are screaming.” 

“Ah - the usual.” He gave a slight smirk in response. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.” 

“Do-do you know why the Lieutenant —”

“No I don’t have any idea.” He shook his head. “I was surprised — he had been curious about the case you’re on and asking the Captain about it, but something you said must have set him off.”

“I know, and I have no idea what I said that made him angry.” Jeannie’s mouth was dry. “I - you know I hate the idea that anyone would give me special treatment because of —”

“Yes, Hagen, I know.” He turned left onto Pine Street. “Trust me, no one thinks you’re getting special treatment but they are trying to use your assets. You know the law, and they know you can think. You’re already way ahead of most of your class, so they’re going to use you.” He got quiet. “Maybe I shouldn’t admit that, but that’s what I see happening. Don’t be afraid of it, just keep your head down and do the work and it will shake out.” Jeannie swallowed and nodded silently.

“Okay. Thank you sir.” They rode in silence for a while, Jeannie realizing she’d never been alone with the Sergeant before. She knew almost nothing about him and felt strange asking him anything personal. 

“So, how bad is it — the case?” He asked as they turned right on Presidio Ave, proceeding north into the park through blocks of neighborhood shops and restaurants. 

“It’s — it’s bad. She was seventeen and lovely and accomplished and getting bullied online and trying to play soccer and make her grades and be a kid. Her parents are the nicest people: standard bearers of San Francisco success, you know? Affluent people from New York, father in private equity.” Jeannie heaved a sigh. “They’re exactly the kind of people the press is going to go after and I feel that storm coming and I hate it.” Entering the Presidio, bands of golden afternoon light cut through the massive eucalyptus trees.

“That’s always the worst part of it. But I think you’re right to dread this storm — a lot of people will be shocked that it’s a kid in private school. You know how they are.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I think that might be what set off the Lieutenant.” Jeannie looked at him from the side, noticing the shades of red in his beard.

“Keep going straight and then the first left. Why do you say that?” 

“He went to Xavier — I think he was in class with that Hartman guy you mentioned.” A sickening hole dropped through Jeannie’s center. “I only mention it because I think — well you know he plays golf, right? There was some Xavier charity tournament that they did at Lake Merced last year and he and a few buddies won it.” The Sergeant sighed. “I could be wrong, but he had a photo of the four of them holding the cup, and I think Jim Hartman was one of them.” Jeannie felt herself sink into stillness.

“Anyone else on the photo of note?” 

“Yeah, it was him, Hartman, and then their buddies Parisi and Sullivan — he told me that Sullivan was Con Sullivan, that big developer? Anyway - all the names are written across the bottom of the photo. It’s on the shelf in his office so I see it all the time.” 

“Interesting.” Jeannie said, trying for blasé. She had no idea if this was a bait she was to chase or if he was legit. “Who knew the Lieutenant was so well-connected?”

“Not me. I went to Bishop.” The Sergeant chuckled. 

“Ah - the enemy.” Jeannie gave a slight smile. It was an old joke among San Franciscans; the Xavier/Bishop rivalry went way back to the late 1800s and it was custom for city natives to good-naturedly state their side. Jeannie guided him around the bends into Ft Winfield Scott, showing him the obscure driveway for the Park Police. 

“It’s quiet over here.”

“Yes, but a lot happening inside. Thank you, sir.”

“For what? It’s just a ride.” He gave her a nod. 

“Yes, but also for supporting me in the briefing before, or at least not being like the Lieutenant in the briefing before.”

“You held your own, Hagen. And you were right.” He paused, hand draped over the top of the steering wheel. Jeannie saw a glint of a gold band on his fourth finger. “But you should be careful there. Don’t piss him off.” 

“Yes sir, I understand. Thank you.” Jeannie nodded again and popped the door. She felt his eyes on her as she ascended the metal stairs outside, making her way to the top, stomach unsettled. Finally, hearing the engine rev and peel away, she felt she could breathe easier.