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tamingthemuseDetermining Value 3/?
Author: SunnyD_lite
Fandom: The Sentinel
Disclaimer: I believe that PetFly owns the boys. I don't own any teddy bears or Lloyds of London either.
Rating: G (pre-slash)
Set: 1st Season between Night Train and Rogue
Word Count: 1,940
Feedback: Yes please!
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tamingthemuse prompt 79 Marigold
A/N: Part three of the Teddy Bear caper. Interviewing the victim.The part is Here and the second is Here Unbeta'd so please tell me of any errors.
After reporting in to the station, Jim just started driving.
"Um, where are we going?"
"This one's on the Mayor's radar, so I'm going to interview Mrs. Hopkins."
"And then she can't complain nothing is being done. Smart."
He didn't miss Jim's sideways glare, meaning he'd said something moronic. Just when he thought knew what was going on, he run against that thin blue line. No matter what Jim thought, it was so there. A few more hits and he'd have to check himself for a concussion.
But he was here to help Jim with his senses. He had a job to do, and he'd do it whether Jim wanted him to or not.
At least until his observer pass ran out. But as his mother said, negative thinking lead to negative results. Taking a calming breath Blair decided the direct approach might work.
"Did anything at the scene twig for you? I know you found that stuff, and how long with the analysis take, but anything else?"
Blair pulled his left leg up so he could twist to better see Jim's demeanor. In the weeks they'd been working together he was slowly learning how to read his, what? A subject? A teacher? A guy whose generous nature gave him a place to stay, despite the grumbling over wet towels? Maybe even a friend? Face value was the one thing not to rely on with Jim.
"With the brass riding this one, Forensics will rush the tests. Singh will call as soon as they're done. Chemical analysis normally takes a couple of days." He paused to rub his temple. "Not that facts will stop the pressure for an immediate arrest."
The traffic had eased, and Blair realized that the passing trees had suddenly gotten a lot bigger, as had the houses. He'd done a semester house sitting for one of his profs, and thought he was living the high life. That place looked like his old apartment compared to these residences. Clearly they were now in millionaires' row.
"Man, I didn't even know this part of the city existed." He scanned the gates and stone half walls. He even noticed a six foot tall cedar hedge that completely obscured the house behind. They turned into a driveway of interlocking bricks and Jim pulled up to an intercom. "Cascade PD for Mrs. Dickson. We're expected," Jim stated into the static. They must have heard him because the gates began moving back as if of their own volition.
"Wow, technology has become the invisible servants. Hey, I might be able to write a paper with Cecelia, she's a history major with a feminist interpretation. I bet we could..."
"Chief?" Jim interrupted. "One job at a time, capiche?" Jim pulled the truck into the circular drive avoiding the four expensive vehicles already there.
"Oh, right. So this is the same as the museum. I feel like a Victorian child: seen not and heard."
Jim started at that, but then tossed a half smile his way. "I didn't think you even knew that phrase."
"I'm full of surprises," was Blair's rejoinder as he slid out of the truck.
"This is just an interview, see who might have been interested, who had a motive for the theft."
"And to make her feel like we're doing something."
"And to make her feel like we're doing something," Jim agreed reaching out to the bell.
Just as he was about to, the door was opened and a number of ladies of various ages spilled out in long coats and Burberry scarves. He and Jim side stepped to let the bevy of good-byes pass them. Remaining in the doorway was a woman in her sixties. The gardening gloves were incongruous with the grey flannel trousers and navy sweater.
"Oh you must be the detected Ron,"--Blair mentally expanded that to Mayor Ronald Whitchurch--"said would be coming."
She ushered them into the hall. "Please excuse the mess. I've just finished hosting our monthly flower arranging class. This month featured marigolds."
"If this is a bad time, ma'am," Jim started.
"No, it's fine. We're just wrapping up."
Blair felt that he should check the soles of his hiking boots when faced with the gleaming black and white marble floor of the entrance way. The squares branched around the grand staircase opposite the front door. Mrs. Hopkins led them to the left past a study and a closed door to French doors opening into a glassed-in extension at the back of the house.
"Delia?" she asked, "Is everything done?"
A stylishly dressed black woman smiled as she packed up squares of Oasis foam. "Yes, I'll just clear these out, unless you'd like to store them for next time."
"I'm away next month, so you should probably take them. Thank you again for a creative session."
Jim began to sneeze, not surprising since the room was almost a full greenhouse. There were ferns and flowers edging the room and in the center were two tables that were scattered with cuttings and some hideous arrangements. He picked out marigolds, the red amaryllis, tulips, and a few daffodils amongst the greenery.
"I'm sorry," Jim said between sneezes. "Could we speak in," another sneeze interrupted his question, "another room?"
Ahh the big bad cop had hay fever..wait, Sentinel, what if... But before Blair could echo the plead, their hostess smiled.
"Actually, I'd like you to see you to see my collection to understand why I'm so concerned." She drew them back to the closed door, pausing to key in a code on a discretely hidden touch pad.
"I feel silly each time I do this, but Lloyd's insisted on an alarm when they insured my bears." She opened the door to reveal a room full of bears. There were shelves of bears, bears on the wall, bears on chairs. Big bears, little bears, bear figurines, and even a bear lamp.
In the middle of the room, beside a picnic blanket with several bears, was a table with three beds, three bowls, and three chairs. And a doll with yellow hair in curls. Goldilocks.
"Wow, the museum didn't have this many," He blurted out, earning him a not so subtle elbow from Jim.
Another scan of the room showed a number of gaps in the collection. And more importantly, the key figure seemed to be a bear with only one ear, whose nose was worn to a nub. Without realizing it, he must have approached the doll.
"You've fine taste young man. Patches was my very first teddy bear." She picked up the mohaired animal, and snuggled it against her cheek. "My father purchased him in Germany for my fifth birthday, and I fell in love. My children and grand children have all played with him, played with most of these." She waved her hand indicating the room.
Jim's eyebrow went up, "You let children touch them?"
"They are dolls, and, like the Velveteen Rabbit, dolls need a child's love. It was only when my son realized what I paid for some of them that he insisted on the insurance." She sighed. "Christopher laughed when I told him about Lloyd's demands."
And suddenly they were in the interview mode.
"You knew Mr. Blake?"
She put down the bear. "Oh yes. He'd often tease me about my zoo. When he was in trouble I offered to buy the Michtom, but he'd promised to keep it in the family."
"What kind of trouble, if I may ask?" Jim had his notebook out and was scribbling notes.
"The usual. His father had a head for business; Christopher had an acumen for spending. That plus the three ex-wives did a number on the Blake fortune. However, Christopher was not one to do without."
"Deep debts then?"
"I wouldn't want to spread rumors, but probate's public record. The executor made it sound like they barely had enough to cover the funeral. That's why he was so anxious to sell me the bear."
As they were talking, Blair prowled the room. The last time he'd seen so many stuffed toys was his last visit to F.A.O. Schwarz in New York. A splash of red caught his eye. It was a floppy hat on a bear with a blue coat sitting on a suit case. The bear had a tag on it. Without looking he recited, "Please look after this bear. Thank you." He wondered if Jim would appreciate seeing another visitor from Darkest Peru.
Blair noted the number of gaps in the collection. Maybe she'd loaned out other bears for the exhibit.
"Thank you for your help." Jim closed up his notebook with a snap. "Just one more question, Mrs. Hopkins. Did you have a visitor who smoked here recently?"
She tilted her head in thought. "I don't let anyone smoke in here. It's bad for the bears. But after I acquired the Michtom, a person claiming to be from Picnic, that's a Teddy Bear collectable magazine, asked to interview me and see it." Her smile dropped. "He ignored the rest of my collection, that gave me pause and I refused to let him hold the Michtom. He had a pipe in his pocket. It fell out."
"Did he say what he wanted?" Jim was quiet and control. A sure sign that this was important.
"After he ascertained it was a Michtom, he asked what I had paid for it. He stuttered and then stormed out cursing that it had been promised to him." Her left hand rubbed her right wrist.
"Was that the last you saw of him?"
She hesitated. "I thought I'd caught a glimpse of him at the museum's reception last night, but that was invitation only." She started out of the room. "Detective Ellison, I don't like estate fights. Had I known it was a contentious item I would have waited. But the Executor approached me." She looked around. "As much as I'd love to have an original Teddy Bear, I do not want to be dragged into litigation. Life is too short for that, even if it seems death isn't. I'd advise you to speak with John Gordon."
"Thank you. We will. If we should have any questions, will you be available this week? You mentioned going out of town?" Jim slipped his notepad into his jacket pocket.
"Out of...of course, Delia. That's not to the 30th. A teddy bear convention actually. In Atlanta. I was going to take the Michtom."
"We hope to have this sorted before then, Mrs. Hopkins." Handing her a card, he continued. "If you think of anything else, please call."
As they exited the drive way, Blair tried to sort out his thoughts. "She's an odd collector. Most want their prizes in pristine condition." He always thought it was a shame to have something you couldn't touch. His mom had encouraged him to practice on the Hendrix guitar, but he hadn't expected the same attitude from the wealthy.
"Her heart beat increased when I asked about the smoker. It was the same scent as at the museum." That was said low, grudgingly.
"Wow man! That's great. We can—"
"We can do the ground work. No judge would sign a warrant based on the scent of pipe ash." Another admonishment. He really should get a copy of the police procedure.
"But at least we have a direction, right?"
"Did you ever have lunch?"
Okay that came from left field. Unless you spoke Ellison.
"No yet. Hot dogs in the park?" Apology accepted.
"Sounds great Chief. I'll leave Simon an update and see if those tapes have been delivered yet."
"Gee, dinner and a movie. You're all heart, man."
The thing was, Blair meant that.
Author: SunnyD_lite
Fandom: The Sentinel
Disclaimer: I believe that PetFly owns the boys. I don't own any teddy bears or Lloyds of London either.
Rating: G (pre-slash)
Set: 1st Season between Night Train and Rogue
Word Count: 1,940
Feedback: Yes please!
Prompt:
tamingthemuse prompt 79 MarigoldA/N: Part three of the Teddy Bear caper. Interviewing the victim.The part is Here and the second is Here Unbeta'd so please tell me of any errors.
After reporting in to the station, Jim just started driving.
"Um, where are we going?"
"This one's on the Mayor's radar, so I'm going to interview Mrs. Hopkins."
"And then she can't complain nothing is being done. Smart."
He didn't miss Jim's sideways glare, meaning he'd said something moronic. Just when he thought knew what was going on, he run against that thin blue line. No matter what Jim thought, it was so there. A few more hits and he'd have to check himself for a concussion.
But he was here to help Jim with his senses. He had a job to do, and he'd do it whether Jim wanted him to or not.
At least until his observer pass ran out. But as his mother said, negative thinking lead to negative results. Taking a calming breath Blair decided the direct approach might work.
"Did anything at the scene twig for you? I know you found that stuff, and how long with the analysis take, but anything else?"
Blair pulled his left leg up so he could twist to better see Jim's demeanor. In the weeks they'd been working together he was slowly learning how to read his, what? A subject? A teacher? A guy whose generous nature gave him a place to stay, despite the grumbling over wet towels? Maybe even a friend? Face value was the one thing not to rely on with Jim.
"With the brass riding this one, Forensics will rush the tests. Singh will call as soon as they're done. Chemical analysis normally takes a couple of days." He paused to rub his temple. "Not that facts will stop the pressure for an immediate arrest."
The traffic had eased, and Blair realized that the passing trees had suddenly gotten a lot bigger, as had the houses. He'd done a semester house sitting for one of his profs, and thought he was living the high life. That place looked like his old apartment compared to these residences. Clearly they were now in millionaires' row.
"Man, I didn't even know this part of the city existed." He scanned the gates and stone half walls. He even noticed a six foot tall cedar hedge that completely obscured the house behind. They turned into a driveway of interlocking bricks and Jim pulled up to an intercom. "Cascade PD for Mrs. Dickson. We're expected," Jim stated into the static. They must have heard him because the gates began moving back as if of their own volition.
"Wow, technology has become the invisible servants. Hey, I might be able to write a paper with Cecelia, she's a history major with a feminist interpretation. I bet we could..."
"Chief?" Jim interrupted. "One job at a time, capiche?" Jim pulled the truck into the circular drive avoiding the four expensive vehicles already there.
"Oh, right. So this is the same as the museum. I feel like a Victorian child: seen not and heard."
Jim started at that, but then tossed a half smile his way. "I didn't think you even knew that phrase."
"I'm full of surprises," was Blair's rejoinder as he slid out of the truck.
"This is just an interview, see who might have been interested, who had a motive for the theft."
"And to make her feel like we're doing something."
"And to make her feel like we're doing something," Jim agreed reaching out to the bell.
Just as he was about to, the door was opened and a number of ladies of various ages spilled out in long coats and Burberry scarves. He and Jim side stepped to let the bevy of good-byes pass them. Remaining in the doorway was a woman in her sixties. The gardening gloves were incongruous with the grey flannel trousers and navy sweater.
"Oh you must be the detected Ron,"--Blair mentally expanded that to Mayor Ronald Whitchurch--"said would be coming."
She ushered them into the hall. "Please excuse the mess. I've just finished hosting our monthly flower arranging class. This month featured marigolds."
"If this is a bad time, ma'am," Jim started.
"No, it's fine. We're just wrapping up."
Blair felt that he should check the soles of his hiking boots when faced with the gleaming black and white marble floor of the entrance way. The squares branched around the grand staircase opposite the front door. Mrs. Hopkins led them to the left past a study and a closed door to French doors opening into a glassed-in extension at the back of the house.
"Delia?" she asked, "Is everything done?"
A stylishly dressed black woman smiled as she packed up squares of Oasis foam. "Yes, I'll just clear these out, unless you'd like to store them for next time."
"I'm away next month, so you should probably take them. Thank you again for a creative session."
Jim began to sneeze, not surprising since the room was almost a full greenhouse. There were ferns and flowers edging the room and in the center were two tables that were scattered with cuttings and some hideous arrangements. He picked out marigolds, the red amaryllis, tulips, and a few daffodils amongst the greenery.
"I'm sorry," Jim said between sneezes. "Could we speak in," another sneeze interrupted his question, "another room?"
Ahh the big bad cop had hay fever..wait, Sentinel, what if... But before Blair could echo the plead, their hostess smiled.
"Actually, I'd like you to see you to see my collection to understand why I'm so concerned." She drew them back to the closed door, pausing to key in a code on a discretely hidden touch pad.
"I feel silly each time I do this, but Lloyd's insisted on an alarm when they insured my bears." She opened the door to reveal a room full of bears. There were shelves of bears, bears on the wall, bears on chairs. Big bears, little bears, bear figurines, and even a bear lamp.
In the middle of the room, beside a picnic blanket with several bears, was a table with three beds, three bowls, and three chairs. And a doll with yellow hair in curls. Goldilocks.
"Wow, the museum didn't have this many," He blurted out, earning him a not so subtle elbow from Jim.
Another scan of the room showed a number of gaps in the collection. And more importantly, the key figure seemed to be a bear with only one ear, whose nose was worn to a nub. Without realizing it, he must have approached the doll.
"You've fine taste young man. Patches was my very first teddy bear." She picked up the mohaired animal, and snuggled it against her cheek. "My father purchased him in Germany for my fifth birthday, and I fell in love. My children and grand children have all played with him, played with most of these." She waved her hand indicating the room.
Jim's eyebrow went up, "You let children touch them?"
"They are dolls, and, like the Velveteen Rabbit, dolls need a child's love. It was only when my son realized what I paid for some of them that he insisted on the insurance." She sighed. "Christopher laughed when I told him about Lloyd's demands."
And suddenly they were in the interview mode.
"You knew Mr. Blake?"
She put down the bear. "Oh yes. He'd often tease me about my zoo. When he was in trouble I offered to buy the Michtom, but he'd promised to keep it in the family."
"What kind of trouble, if I may ask?" Jim had his notebook out and was scribbling notes.
"The usual. His father had a head for business; Christopher had an acumen for spending. That plus the three ex-wives did a number on the Blake fortune. However, Christopher was not one to do without."
"Deep debts then?"
"I wouldn't want to spread rumors, but probate's public record. The executor made it sound like they barely had enough to cover the funeral. That's why he was so anxious to sell me the bear."
As they were talking, Blair prowled the room. The last time he'd seen so many stuffed toys was his last visit to F.A.O. Schwarz in New York. A splash of red caught his eye. It was a floppy hat on a bear with a blue coat sitting on a suit case. The bear had a tag on it. Without looking he recited, "Please look after this bear. Thank you." He wondered if Jim would appreciate seeing another visitor from Darkest Peru.
Blair noted the number of gaps in the collection. Maybe she'd loaned out other bears for the exhibit.
"Thank you for your help." Jim closed up his notebook with a snap. "Just one more question, Mrs. Hopkins. Did you have a visitor who smoked here recently?"
She tilted her head in thought. "I don't let anyone smoke in here. It's bad for the bears. But after I acquired the Michtom, a person claiming to be from Picnic, that's a Teddy Bear collectable magazine, asked to interview me and see it." Her smile dropped. "He ignored the rest of my collection, that gave me pause and I refused to let him hold the Michtom. He had a pipe in his pocket. It fell out."
"Did he say what he wanted?" Jim was quiet and control. A sure sign that this was important.
"After he ascertained it was a Michtom, he asked what I had paid for it. He stuttered and then stormed out cursing that it had been promised to him." Her left hand rubbed her right wrist.
"Was that the last you saw of him?"
She hesitated. "I thought I'd caught a glimpse of him at the museum's reception last night, but that was invitation only." She started out of the room. "Detective Ellison, I don't like estate fights. Had I known it was a contentious item I would have waited. But the Executor approached me." She looked around. "As much as I'd love to have an original Teddy Bear, I do not want to be dragged into litigation. Life is too short for that, even if it seems death isn't. I'd advise you to speak with John Gordon."
"Thank you. We will. If we should have any questions, will you be available this week? You mentioned going out of town?" Jim slipped his notepad into his jacket pocket.
"Out of...of course, Delia. That's not to the 30th. A teddy bear convention actually. In Atlanta. I was going to take the Michtom."
"We hope to have this sorted before then, Mrs. Hopkins." Handing her a card, he continued. "If you think of anything else, please call."
As they exited the drive way, Blair tried to sort out his thoughts. "She's an odd collector. Most want their prizes in pristine condition." He always thought it was a shame to have something you couldn't touch. His mom had encouraged him to practice on the Hendrix guitar, but he hadn't expected the same attitude from the wealthy.
"Her heart beat increased when I asked about the smoker. It was the same scent as at the museum." That was said low, grudgingly.
"Wow man! That's great. We can—"
"We can do the ground work. No judge would sign a warrant based on the scent of pipe ash." Another admonishment. He really should get a copy of the police procedure.
"But at least we have a direction, right?"
"Did you ever have lunch?"
Okay that came from left field. Unless you spoke Ellison.
"No yet. Hot dogs in the park?" Apology accepted.
"Sounds great Chief. I'll leave Simon an update and see if those tapes have been delivered yet."
"Gee, dinner and a movie. You're all heart, man."
The thing was, Blair meant that.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-27 02:12 pm (UTC)I feel like a Victorian child: seen not and heard."
"I didn't think you even knew that phrase."
*grin* Can't blame Jim for that one, I don't suppose anyone would suspect Blair of being familiar with that concept.
And I really liked this - Okay that came from left field. Unless you spoke Ellison.
"No yet. Hot dogs in the park?" Apology accepted.
You have lovely voices here.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-28 03:28 pm (UTC)Thank you again for your reassuring comments!