On the way back with his refill, he walked over and perched a hip on the edge of Peter's desk. "You got a minute, Peter? There's some things I'd like to talk over with you."

"What things?" Peter kept typing the report he was working on, frequently hitting the backspace key and swearing under his breath.

"Tammy Wright for one. Jason Fischer for another."

"Haven't you heard, Kermit? I'm under investigation. I'm supposed to be a dirty cop. Aren't you afraid it'll hurt your professional reputation to be seen talking to me?"

Kermit laughed. "Glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humor. My professional reputation? Get real, Peter. My reputation isn't here, and you know it." He took a sip of coffee and stood up. "When you get done sulking out here, I'll be waiting for you in my office." That said, he sauntered off, knowing full well it would be only a matter of seconds before he was followed.

He had barely seated himself and set his coffee within easy arm's reach when Peter stalked in and slammed the door. "Sit down, make yourself comfortable, Kid."

"For your information, Kermit, I have not been sulking, I've been working," Peter snarled as he plopped down into a chair.

Kermit wriggled his eyebrows. "Call it what you like. Either way, it's not normal behavior for Peter Caine."

Peter slumped in his seat and sighed, suddenly tired of being resentful and angry. "You're not going to let me wallow in this, are you?"

"Not a chance. Now get up off your ass and come over here and look at what lovely things computers are able to find." He frowned and added, "Or maybe I should say unlovely things."

Curiosity aroused, Peter jumped up to look over Kermit's shoulder. "Their parents were killed when they were how old?"

"She was sixteen and he was twelve. Neither of them was home at the time of the fire. Their parents were overcome by toxic fumes and died in their sleep." Kermit massaged his chin with a thumb and forefinger. "Hmm...chemical fire in the basement. You don't suppose our dearly departed Mr. Fischer had a penchant for playing with chemicals before he started manufacturing meth in his kitchen lab, do you?"

"Hell, slime like that is capable of deliberately starting that fire if he was mad at Mommy and Daddy. What happened to them after their parents were dead?"

Kermit surfed from one screen image to another. "Looks like they were shuffled from one set of relatives to another. Wright managed to finish high school at the top of her class, but the kid brother spent more time in detention than in a classroom." His fingers flew over the keyboard. "Get a look at Ms. Wright's financial statement."

Peter gave a long, low whistle. "Holy shit. What was her brother doing living the way he was while his sister was sitting on a pile like that?"

Kermit shrugged. "She paid her dues, worked hard for her money. No reason for her to support a methhead."

Peter started pacing. "Obviously the two had lost touch, so why the hell is she so upset about the fact he's dead?"

"One of those strange things in life, Peter," Kermit observed. "You can say anything you want about your own family. Criticize, ridicule, belittle. But woe to anyone outside the family if they say one negative word." He watched as Peter continued roaming around the office, picking up anything lying around, fiddling with it a while, and setting it back down again. "Why don't you tell me what else is bothering you, Peter?"

Peter stopped and frowned, shaking his head. "Something Wong said the other day keeps sticking in my mind, Kermit. When his father brought Kacie that gift, he said something about the package being tied up neatly, with no loose ends."

"So?"

"So...don't you remember? He said the same thing the day he was here at the precinct, when we were all still trying to find out where Kacie was. He said that if 'their men' found her first, there wouldn't be any loose ends to tie up." He scratched the back of his head agitatedly. "I think that he or someone from the Wong syndicate took Fischer out."

"Are we talking about the same Jack Wong here? The one who wouldn't be able to get a real job if his life depended on it?"

Peter shrugged. "I know. I know. I can't believe it, either. But there was just something about the way he acted the other day. Really cocky, like he was one up on me."

"You talk to Roger Chin about it?"

Shaking his head, Peter huffed out an exasperated breath. "I haven't had a chance to try and track him down. With him undercover in Chinatown, it's not real safe to try and meet. I don't want to blow his cover. And now, with this-this investigation going on, there's no way I'd want to try and make contact."

"Why don't you leave that to Skalany or Jody or me? We can find a way to get noses sniffing in Chinatown and see if anyone knows anything."

"You can try." Peter's voice reflected his doubts. "That is a community that doesn't like to talk -- to anyone. I don't know if even my father could get some of those people to open up."

"If your father can't, maybe we could try the Ancient. He knows everybody, and they know him."

"They also know he's a friend of mine and my father's. I don't think he can get anywhere, either."

"Gonna give up and turn in your badge now?" Kermit's words were sharp and he looked angry. "Since when did you turn into a quitter, Peter?"

"Who said anything about quitting?" Peter snapped. "I'm just telling you the way it is in Chinatown!"

Kermit stared at his friend, eyes burning through the green-tinted lenses. "I don't care where we're talking about, Peter. You ask enough questions in enough places, and somebody always talks. You hold out enough motivation, and some people would turn on their own grandmother."

A grim smile twitched at Peter's lips. "With no more evidence than we have, it'll take a confession from somebody. I've never seen a case that has less to go on than this one."

"You've gotta remember, Peter, there's a lot of highly motivated detectives in this precinct, and when someone comes after one of our own, they've just declared war."

"Show no mercy, take no prisoners?"

Kermit laughed shortly. "You're catching on, Peter. I might make a mercenary out of you yet. But you make a better cop than you would a spook." He got to his feet and extended his hand.

Peter shook Kermit's offered hand, eyes shining in appreciation.

"We're going to take care of this, Peter. My word on it. This will go away. One way or another."

"Mercenary rules gone into effect, have they, Kermit?"

"Not yet. But if somebody wants to push hard enough, anything is possible." Kermit gave Peter a gentle shove. "Now get out of my office. How am I supposed to get anything done when you keep coming in here and interrupting me?"

To Part 9

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