Prompt 90 Colorless Sunnyd_lite Determining Value 4/4 The Sentinel G

[sunnyd-lite.livejournal.com]

Determining Value 4/4
Author: SunnyD_lite
Fandom: The Sentinel
Disclaimer: The Sentinel is owned by Petfly and other corporations. No profit no foul right?
Rating: G (pre-slash)
Set: 1st Season between Night Train and Rogue
Word Count: 3,465
Prompt: tamingthemuse prompt 90 colorless
A/N: This is the final part of a story that started in August. But look, finishing a WIP! I'd suggest at least glancing a the earlier parts for this to make sense. I wrote a procedural! The first part is Here and the second is Here while the third is Here



After swinging by the park to pick up a hot dog and tofu dog—he was amazed that not only did the vendor sell tofu dogs, but there seemed to be a market for them, besides Sandburg—they returned to the station.

Since the Estate of Christopher Blake had popped up in two different avenues of investigation, it was a lead that had to be followed. Luckily, it didn't need to be followed by him.

"Hey, Henri."

Jim might have a reputation of a lone wolf, but, to avoid messing with lawyers, he was happy to delegate.

And Brown was a good man. Oh he glared and grumbled, but he'd asked Rhonda to pull the Court records and was meeting with the Personal Representative who was administering the Estate.

Which left him with an over energetic observer and hours of museum tapes. At least Simon couldn't complain about gun fire.

"I grabbed the paper to see if the coverage of the reception was different than the documents Ms. Svendsen sent with the tapes. Should I get popcorn?"

"Surveillance tapes, Sandburg! This isn't the latest Hollywood blockbuster." He remembered some of Blair's weekend suggestions. "And it isn't a documentary. We're looking for anomalies."

"Which is why I've got competing sources of information." Sandburg plopped himself into one of the leatherette office chairs they'd dragged into the A.V. room. "Anthropologist? PhD student? It's not like I haven't researched before."

And that's the only reason he was here, Jim reminded himself. Research for his PhD. No matter how normal it seemed that Sandburg should be helping him, it was only temporary.

"I'll cue the tapes," he said briskly. They had hours to cover; they should get started.

Within minutes the first tape revealed that they didn't have the originals, but rather the copies made in the security office of the museum. The scene on the tape changed every three seconds, running through all their cameras.

Cursing wouldn't accomplish anything, even if it did make him feel better. So he refrained.

His partner didn't. "Oh man – did they cheap out on their technology or," and here Sandburg turned to look at him with wide eyes, "you don't think they gave the originals to that Lloyds' insurance guy, do you? Not that I'm in favour of police oppression but this is an investigation to their benefit too."

So many thoughts, and the one that stuck out was, "Police oppression? Care to explain that one, Darwin?"

Apparently Sandburg's sarcasm meter was set to off, again, because he did.

"There's a balance between private property and communal need and the role of the police in seizing surveillance tapes could be construed as silencing right of free speech, but in this situation it's an vital tool to an end that all parties would agree is good. Furthermore,--"

"Or less." Jim waved the rest of the diatribe away. "You do have a point about the Lloyds' agent. I think I need to give Ms. Cooper a call." Ms. P.R.'s ego was on the line; people do and say funny things when that's the case. However, from what he'd seen, Cooper was a straight shooter. Plus, she should know the state of the museum's security technology.

Sandburg shrugged and said, "Say hi to Melissa for me! I'll just be going over the guest list." Then he began shuffling through the lists, as if he knew what he was looking for.

Leaving him where he was harmless, Jim started dialing the security guard's daytime number. Was there a lady in the city that Sandburg didn't know?

##

"Seems like you were right on the first one."

His observer looked up from the papers spread on the table. "What?"

"The Museum's recently upgraded their security system. It's digital, but the tapes only capture what's seen by the office. The guards have complained about it, but since the supplier is the son of a board member.. ."

"That just sucks. I remember them fundraising for the capital fund, using the need for updated security as one of the reasons. For most people this would be useless, but you should be able to assemble the different streams to see if they make sense."

And that was not the response he'd been expecting. "For me?"

Sandburg tilted his head. "Yes. Look, your brain is wired to assimilate large amounts of information and make sense of it. We just have to watch the tapes and your mind will create parallel scenes contemporaneous of each other."

His incredulity must have shown.

"How can I explain? It's like those flip books, you know? Where each page is a slightly different picture and when you flip, it becomes animation. I know it sounds wild, but you can do it."

The kid had come up with wackier suggestions that had worked, so, since these tapes were all they had, he shrugged his acceptance.

"Fine, let's see what we've got." And he hit play.

"Just breathe, like we practiced. Let the images flow over you. Don't worry about trying to make sense of them. Just let it happen." He had dropped into his coaching tone, so Jim found himself following the directions.

And began to see several scenes at once.

"Keep breathing and discard the ones you don't want. Focus on the scene with the bear."

The scenes resolved themselves into the front of the exhibit. People holding wine glasses were milling around, one couple had formed a clinch in the corner only to move abruptly when others entered. There was a general exodus, probably for the mandatory speeches, and only two people remained.

One of whom he already knew.

"Hey, isn't that Mrs. Hopkins?"

"Focusing here, Chief."

"Sorry, sorry. Keep breathing."

The other figure was a middle aged gentleman, whose causal outfit stood out amongst the suits and cocktail dresses worn by the other guests. The videos were in black and white, but Jim would bet that the man was wearing khakis. Definitely part of a different social set.

"Wait, pause that."

While Sandburg fiddled with the tape, he replayed the scene in his mind. Why hadn't Mrs. Hopkins mentioned that she'd been grabbed? The man had been clearly agitated, but to grab her wrist, spilling the wine? Well, that would account for the stain and odor he'd found at the scene. And the whole time the bear was in the box.

"Actually go on. The bear's still there."

"Are you sure?"

He turned a glare on Sandburg.

"Fine! Just let me." And the pictures started to flow again.

More people flowed in and out of the area. The time stamp showing that it was towards the end of the reception. The bear was still there.

The cleaning crews came in. Someone spotted the wine stain. They left. The bear was still there.

The screen turned black.

"Sandburg!"

"That shouldn't be the end of the tape. These are six hour tapes. Here, let me fast forward."

They both stared at the black screen. Not just of the exhibit, but every camera. That ruled out location specific sabotage. The rest of the tape ran blank.

The next tape started at one a.m. – without a bear.

This time he didn't hold back on his curses.

##

After collecting a coffee-like substance – the scent of Simon's secret stash was taunting him, but some things weren't worth the risk—he ran over the lists. It was a who's who of Cascade's philanthropic crowd. He circled a few names that weren't familiar, just to feel like he was doing something.

And speaking of his Captain.

"Any progress?"

"We've done tons! After the crime scene, we interviewed the victim, she's a really nice lady, and then Jim reviewed the museum's tapes, and –"

"Thank you, Sandburg, but I was asking Detective Ellison here about progress, not activity."

"We've narrowed down the list of suspects. And are running down a few other collaborating leads."

While he was reporting to Simon, he noticed a courier talking to Rhonda. She then approached them.

"Jim? Here are the copies from the Probate Court on the Blake Estate."

At last, something to do. "Thanks, Rhonda." He sent a grateful smile her way.

"Yes, yes. We all know you boys would be lost without me!" But she smiled back, then turned to Simon. "Sir? The Mayor's called. Twice."

"Ellison!"

"If you can hold off a few more minutes, Captain. Mrs. Hopkins mentioned an estate fight. The answer might be here."

Sandburg had been busy flipping through the documents. "Did you know he had a thirty page Will? Oh, here're the Letters Testamentary, this should sum it all up." He shook his head, wild hair flying all over the place. "Our society's obsession with paper work is amazing. When you compare these rituals to those of the Ka'wallen tribe in"

"If they're not a suspect, it doesn't matter what the Kay-walls were up to. Have you got anything?"

"Does the fact that one of the beneficiaries has filed an injunction against the Personal Representative count? And—" Sandburg looked Jim straight in the eye. "The topic of the injunction was a Michtom bear."

Simon was suddenly looming over the desk. "That all you got? Because the Mayor—"

"Will be interested to know that the complainant was also on the list of guests at the Museum's reception last night." Jim filled in smoothly. "If we can pull up his picture from the DMV, we might be able to identify him on the video."

"And if you're thinking what I'm thinking, that might be the man who got into it with Mrs. Hopkins," Sandburg finished.

"Fine. I'll go let the Mayor know that there are solid leads." He glared over his glasses. "And I'm trusting you that they are solid."

"Yes, Captain." Because really, what else was there to say?

He turned back to his desk to find somebody making themselves at home with his computer.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"The DMV search. Remember, you showed me how a few weeks ago." Sandburg typed one last bit of information then hit enter with a flourish.

"Have we heard from Henri, yet? That could be the missing link. This is so much faster than my normal research."

"Funny, I was just thinking how many less apes it included."

That got a wince, rather than the laugh he'd been expecting. "Man, I'm sorry about Larry. I have no idea why he broke those wine glasses. I'll pay you back, once I've found my new space. Really."

"Let's just focus on this case, Chief." Didn't Sandberg know he didn't care about wine glasses? That whole trick with the video was worth crystal glasses, while the broken ones had owed their existence to Ikea.

"Fine, I'll just read the Will, then." A little abrupt for his partner. With wills he'd expected a spiel on material possessions, or tribal status, or something. And was it odd that he missed it?

His musings were interrupted by Henri's return. "You do realize you own me one, Ellison, right?"

"Why, what have you got?" He leaned back against the desk, and noticed that Blair had dropped the papers he'd been looking at.

Henri sat down at his desk and flipped open his notepad. "The Personal Rep had lawyer-ed up by the time I met with him. But he happily confirmed what Mrs. Hopkins said. Three ex-wives, all with a hand out; and while assets did out weigh liabilities, none of those were liquid."

Here he looked up. "Blair, you won't believe what she paid for that toy! It was enough to clear credit cards – and I'm talking platinum here-- and pay out some of the minor legacies. Sounds like some of the real estate will have to go to meet taxes."

"I know not everyone was thrilled with the sale," Sandburg added. "The Court documents state that one beneficiary, Carl Reynolds, was to get the bear."

"John Gordon, the Representative, mentioned him. Kinda of a black sheep in the not so close family. By the sounds of it, no one was close. There were the ex-wives and then second cousins. But Reynolds, he apparently was obsessed with that bear. Gordon said he was hung up on family history, but that history didn't pay the piper."

"H'uh." Sandburg sat back and steepled his hands. "I guess it's a question of value. What's more important, immediate satisfaction, public regard, or long term security? Looks like there wasn't agreement."

He took a breath, as if preparing to pontificate on the subject, when the computer pinged. "Shove over, Chief. With luck, those are the D.M.V. results. Maybe we have a match."

They were. And it was. Time to make an arrest.

Sticking his head in the Captain's office, Jim spoke. "Simon, we've got an address. I'll call it in when we've the perp in custody."

Simon was still on the phone, so just make wavy hand motions. Good enough.

"Good news, at least this case shouldn't require the S.W.A.T. team," he commented on their way to the parking garage.

"Oh man, are you trying to jinx us?"

"Jinx, Chief? Even you're too old for jinxing." He was so easy to wind up.

"It's not an age thing, more like taunting the universe. Consider it hubris, which comes from the Greek.. ."

And he was off and running. Jim let the commentary flow over him as they headed to a small house in a middle class section of town. Smaller lots and no gated driveways. Even if it was only a couple of miles from the Hopkins' house, it was part of a different universe.

"..and that's why you shouldn't start eliminating extreme options. Hey, have you even been listening?" This was accompanied with a slight slap on his arm.

"Yes, dear," he responded mockingly, even though he had been paying attention. The linking of Ancient Greece, to druidism, to medieval Christianity and current pop culture was like one of those see 14 countries in 14 days tours. Mind-bending, but enjoyable.

"By the way, Chief, we're not expecting trouble but it would be best if- -"

"You want me to stay in the truck? Haven't I been good today?"

"An arrest isn't the same as a trip to Wonder Burger; it's not a reward for good behaviour. You're an observer. Stay here and observe!"

As this debate was going on, Brown was knocking on the side window. "Hey Ellison, are we doing this?"

With a "Stay" and the resulting eye roll, they headed up the cement walkway to the door at number 427 Windy Pines Road. The setting sun cast a warm glow over the sand-colored Civic in the driveway, so hopefully Mr. Reynolds was home.

Brown nodded to him, indicating that he was to take lead. He knocked. Nothing. Wait, not nothing.

"Did you hear that?" Reaching for his weapon with one hand, he signaled for a confused looking Brown to cover the front while he raced around to the back door.

Why couldn't it have been easy?

He heard Brown calling it in, and he heard scrambling from the backyard. As he rounded the corner, he saw a gate and realized it was an enclosed backyard. Clearly they were dealing with a criminal mastermind.

A criminal mastermind with a Jack Russell Terrier. "Cascade P.D.! Get that dog under control!"

He eased the gate behind him closed, keeping the gun up. This guy was scared, not violent. The man from the tape called, "Heel, Teddy!"

Luckily the dog did. "Carl Reynolds?" The man nodded. "You are under arrest for the theft of –" Oh god. He was really going to have to say it wasn't he? "A teddy bear."

And dignity would have been too much to expect from this case. Even as Reynolds submitted to the cuffs, he was babbling at Blairspeed.

"It's my bear. He promised it to me. It's even in the Will. I can show you!"

As the man grew more agitated, so did his dog, yipping and jumping. "Get that thing under control. You have the right to remain silent." No dignity at all. He was trying to Mirandize someone while preventing the terrier from biting his leg. Luckily he'd re-holstered his gun before pulling out the cuffs, one less thing to juggle.

"Brown? Some assistance here?" Although he wasn't sure if he wanted to be seen hopping during an arrest.

"Do you understand your rights?"

"It's my bear!" Reynolds glared over his shoulder. "I don't understand why you're here. It's a private matter."

"The property" He was not going to say teddy bear, again. "was stolen from the Cascade Museum. That makes it a crime. I repeat, do you understand your rights?"

Jim figured this would get pled out, but no way would he let the case get tossed because he hadn't done his job. It was a crime, like any other. He had to believe that.

"Yes," huffed the man. "Can I let my dog back in? How long will this take? Should I get a dog sitter?"

Of course, this was the point that Brown turned up.

"Dog sitter?"

Jim hung his head. "Can you just get him out of here?" He gently pushed the perp towards Brown. "I'll check the house for the stolen property."

"Hey, don't touch it! Your hands are dirty."

"Brown." That might have come out as more of a growl but this guy would try the patience of a saint. Or two.

"This way, sir. I'm sure Detective Ellison won't harm a thing."

"Ellison? The one who caught the transvestite serial killer? I'm that important?"

Cue the back up's entry to the yard. At least Sandburg--

"Jim? Is everything okay?"

--Hadn't stayed in the truck. He was just one ring shy of a circus.

"I'm going to clear the residence. You two, keep an eye on the dog. Sandburg-"

The kid looked up hopefully, but this was still not his job. "Why don't you talk to these guys about your research?"

If anything could distract them when he exited with a toy, it would be Sandburg. Please, please, let this work.

One of the uniforms interrupted their silence discussion. "Let me get this straight. You're fine with international terrorists, but you need back up with a Russell Terrier?"

He tossed another look to Sandburg, who finally got it.

"I don't think we've met. I'm Blair Sandburg and I'm studying the police department, its hierarchy and I'm betting you two have some great stories about interaction both the public and.. ."

He slipped into the house during the familiar patter. All he needed to do was find the bear.

# #

Safely back at the department, he figured his partner had forgiven him by the number of questions streaming from his mouth.

"What about the blank tape from the museum and the insurance company? Will Mrs. Hopkins get the Michtom bear back? I feel like I'm leaving the theatre before the end of the movie." Sandburg's arms were waving as expansively as a conductor's.

"A side effect of police work. We can only take the case so far."

"But far enough." Simon strode out of his office. "Just got off the phone with the Mayor. He just got off the phone with Mrs. Hopkins. He's pleased with the speed you—" That was interrupted by a cough from Brown. "All of you, solved this case."

"And Jim didn't even drop his gun!"

He ducked his head. It must be the senses. He was sure he'd never been as butterfingers before. Of course, his actions just added to the grins and cheers.

"Hey, keep it down," Simon said gruffly. But he was smirking while chewing on the end of an unlit cigar. "It's not like the Mayor increased our budget."

As they groaned, a detective from Vice popped his head in. "You guys do realize you're celebrating the return of a teddy bear, right? Go Major Crimes!"

His smug expression was quickly wiped off as a latex glove hit him in the face.

"Nice arm, Jim." As amused as the comment was, warmth underlined his partner's tone. "Hey, doesn't this feel like it's wrapping up quickly?"

"Sometimes there are good days, Chief. If we're done here?" He looked to Simon, who nodded. "Let's head home."

They were laughing as they entered the loft carrying Chinese take out and a micro brewery Sandburg insisted he try. Jim glanced around, seeing but not being bothered by the bright splashes of Sandburg's native throw rug over the couch and various items of clothing in the living room. His world before was tidy, ordered, colorless. This case had been about determining value. If his senses brought the unexpected and unsettling in the form of Blair, maybe that was value enough.

-fin-

Comments

[thismaz.livejournal.com]

*laughs* Care to explain that one, Darwin?"
Apparently Sandburg's sarcasm meter was set to off, again, because he did.
but it wasn't off a moment later (or maybe it was on too high) - "Funny, I was just thinking how many less apes it included." Hee, having seen that episode, that made me laugh too.
And I love Simon - "Thank you, Sandburg, but I was asking Detective Ellison here about progress, not activity." A nice but very important distinction. *g*
So it all got wrapped up nicely and Jim learnt something important. That was nice. I really enjoyed this story, not only for the sheer crazy premise, but for the voices as well.

[sunnyd-lite.livejournal.com]

I'm glad that this chapter wrapped things up in a satisfactory manner, with a few giggles along the way!

Line quotage! SQUUEE!

And yup Jim's learned something....now he just has to let Blair know it (you know some time in the next few years)