The state penitentiary was a grim, gray citadel of
stone and mortar surrounded by a web of electrical
fencing and rolls of barbed wire. A maximum security
facility, it was filled to overflowing with men of various
ethnic and social backgrounds tied together with one
common cord: heinous crimes committed against society.
Patrick Michael Epstein sat in a chair at the visitor's
center, waiting to talk with one of the newly
incarcerated. Epstein was somewhere in his early
fifties, with gray hairs liberally sprinkled throughout
the brown, and a hairline beginning to recede. His face
was etched with lines of deep pain and disillusionment,
and his eyes were sad and old and tired. He rubbed his
sweating palms on his pant legs as he waited.
As Epstein watched from his side of the glassed-in
cubicle, a guard brought from the cell block a surly-
looking young inmate dressed in standard prison-issue
blue work shirt and denim jeans. The prisoner looked
barely out of his teens, but the sullen expression on his
face was ageless. He had seen too much and knew too
much of the real world to be anything less than cynical.
People were no damn good, and anything wanted in life
had to be taken.
The guard hustled his captive to the chair in the
cubicle and pushed him down to sit. "You have five
minutes."
The youth looked through the glass at the older man
and scowled belligerently before picking up the receiver.
He stared defiantly, waiting for Epstein to speak first.
"Brian. How are you?" Epstein spoke hesitantly,
almost cringing before the hostile stare.
"How are you? Is that the best you can do after two
years, 'Dad'? How are you?" The inmate's eyes were
filled with hate. "When does the standard line 'how could
you do this to me and your mother?' come in, 'Dad'?"
Epstein cleared his throat and dropped his eyes a
moment before asking, "Is there anything I can get for
you, Brian? Anything that you need?"
"Anything I need?" Brian laughed harshly. "Isn't it a
little late to be asking me that? This is my home for the
next twenty years, 'Daddy'. Not that it'll be a whole lot
different from what I knew growing up. Lots of rules
thrown in your face. Fighting. Yelling. Why are you
here? Doing the parent thing to soothe your conscience?"
Finally angered enough to react, Epstein snapped, "I
got nothin' on MY conscience! I'm not the one that tried
to pull off a bank job and ended up killing a guard!"
Satisfied with the reaction, Brian smirked. "Ah, at
last the sanctimonious cop shows up. I wondered when
he would. Hey, if you're visiting me, does that mean
you're looking up Trent and John, too?"
The flush on Epstein's face revealed that a nerve had
been struck. Brian laughed at him bitterly. "You don't
even know where they are, do you?"
"You know so much, smart ass, why don't you tell me?"
The young man leaned forward menacingly, and
Epstein was glad there was a restraining glass between
them. "Well, I'll just tell you, 'Dad'. Trent has probably
crawled off in a hole someplace to die. He found out he
had AIDS six months ago, and has kept a needle stuck in
his arm ever since to forget the fact." Pleased by the
horrified look on his father's face, he continued. "And
John? Oh, John you can REALLY be proud of. He's worked
his way into the syndicate in New York. Yes, sir, he's hit
the big time. You should be real proud of the sons you
raised, 'Dad'. We've all made our mark in the world."
"You can't blame me for what you kids have done!"
Epstein denied vehemently.
"The hell we can't!" Brian snarled. "You were around
long enough to make us, but you never had time for us!
You were never around to be a dad! You were too busy
being supercop to worry about any of us! Mom included!
No wonder she dumped you. Do you have any idea what it
was like growing up listening to you and Mom do nothing
but scream at one another whenever you DID happen to be
home? You make me sick. I don't know why you bothered
coming here today. I don't need you and I don't want you.
The next time I see your face, I hope it's in the obituary
column!" The young man threw the receiver down on the
table and turned to the guard. "My five minutes are up.
Get me out of here." He got to his feet and walked away.
Epstein stared after his son and then hung up his
receiver slowly. He sat woodenly for a moment before
standing up and shakily makinghis way out the door.
Peter was looking through a file drawer in the back of
the squad room, trying to run down a report he needed for
an upcoming court appearance. He ran a hand through his
hair as he frowned in deep concentration.
"Hey, Tomato Can! Who you tryin' to fool by actin' like
you're really workin'?"
Peter's head whipped around, and he grinned before
shouting, "Epstein! What the hell you doin' here?" The
two men grabbed one another in a huge bear hug. Peter's
mind quickly flew through the four years they had been
partners together, and he asked again, "You old dog! What
brings you to town?"
"Ah, I ended up with some extra time on my hands,"
Eppy answered vaguely. "I decided I needed to come to
the city to see for myself if some ugly rumors I been
hearin' were true."
"I'll bite. So what rumors might those be?"
Epstein looked Peter up and down and replied, "First
off, I heard ya tried to get yourself killed awhile back.
What?! You forget Eppy's rule number one?"
Peter flushed and recited with his former partner,
"Don't forget to duck." He sobered and answered slowly.
"Yeah...I just about bought it a few months back. But I'm
OK now."
"What's your definition of OK? Now I'm concerned
about your mental health."
At Peter's quizzical look, he continued, "I heard you
went completely off the deep end and got married?! I
thought I taught you better than that!"
Peter blushed and apologized. "Sorry about not
inviting you, but it was a really small wedding. We had
it in the Blaisdell back yard. We sent out wedding
announcements to the people that didn't get invited. I
was surprised that I hadn't heard anything from you about
it."
"Never got anything in the mail, Petey, but you know
how the postal service can be. I'm havin' a hard time
swallowing this, Kid. I watched you wade through a
smorgasbord of women for four years. I can't imagine
you sittin' down to the same meal night after night after
all the variety YOU'VE had."
Peter turned a fiery red and commented, "Guess I
finally figured out what was best for me, Partner."
"That'll be the day," Epstein snorted in disbelief.
"No kiddin', Eppy. Once you meet my wife, you'll see
why. Hey, a bunch of us are getting together at
Chandler's tonight; why don't you come and join us? You
can meet Kacie, and we can catch up on things, too."
Skalany stepped out of Kermit's office and stopped
short when she saw Epstein. A wary look crossed her
face when she recognized him. They had met on only one
other occasion, and while she could appreciate his
obvious affection for Peter, his sexist comments had
been irritating.
Peter reintroduced the two. "Skalany, you remember
Epstein here, don't you?"
"How could I forget?" she responded in a voice that
was pleasant enough, but that dripped with double-
entendre.
"Always nice to see you, too, Officer Skalany. Still
take your coffee black?" At her nod, he requested,
"Please, allow me."
Epstein went over to the coffeepot, and while there,
observed his former partner surreptitiously. The kid
looked a little thinner than before, but considering the
fact he had never been one to put on weight, that wasn't
all that unusual. Eppy was struck most by the new self-
possession Peter was demonstrating. The same cocky
grin was there, and he was sure the smart mouth would
never change, but the sense of serenity about the young
man he had never seen evidenced before.
He remembered back to the brash young kid who had
first partnered with him over ten years ago. He smiled
to himself as he thought about how often he'd despaired
of whether or not the kid would live to see twenty-five.
Peter had had all the qualities necessary to be a top-
notch cop, but had seemed to have had some kind of
secret death wish and a total disregard for his own
personal safety.
Eppy remembered the last time they had worked
together, when Stella and the Green Hornet had been on a
rampage, and how he had initially met Peter's father,
Caine. It had first made him a little angry to see this
man, Caine. He had listened to Peter talk about his
father a lot, and knew how much pain it had caused when
he had thought his father had died. There was no denying
the bond between the two Caines, and their unashamed
physical show ofaffection had made his guts twist with
jealousy. He had come to think of Peter as a son, had
needed to have someone look up to him the way the kid
had. Even all those years ago, his own sons had distanced
themselves from him and shown their disdain for his
chosen profession. The fact that he and their mother had
divorced did not help matters any.
With Caine back in the picture, he hadn't felt needed
by Peter anymore, which was part of the reason he had
left the precinct.
He had looked forward to this reunion with Peter, and
had hoped to spend a lot of time with the kid. He hadn't
known of Peter's marriage until he had talked to
Broderick just a few days ago, and it had stung him more
than he let on. The old Peter would have tried harder to
contact him. Was this 'new' Peter so enchanted with his
new wife that he had no time for old friends, old
loyalties? Would he, too, turn his back? That would be
the cruelest blow of all: to have the kid treat him the
same way his own sons had. He didn't like sharing the
kid's time and attention. It had been hard enough to
'share' Peter with his father. A new wife could interfere
with their friendship even more.
Epstein's eyes narrowed and his face took on a
speculative expression. He wondered to himself, {What
kind of woman has been able to tame the kid?}
Epstein shook himself out of his reverie and forced a
smile. "Coming right up, Sweet Lips. Excuse me, I mean,
Detective."
He handed Skalany her coffee and was about to say
something to Peter when Kermit emerged from behind his
computer screen and joined the three at Skalany's desk.
"Kermit, ya gotta meet my first partner, Patrick Michael
Epstein." Peter introduced the two men cheerfully.
"Eppy, this is Detective Kermit Griffin, the resident
computer expert at the One-o-One."
The two men shook hands cordially, each appraising
the other. Kermit had heard Peter tell many a war story
about his four years with Eppy, and he appreciated the
fact that the man had managed to get Peter through his
first years of being a cop without getting himself killed.
Kermit thought he detected the first signs of dissipation
around Eppy's eyes and face. Booze, he surmised, and if
half the stories Peter told about Epstein were true, it
was a damn shame the man had fallen into the same trap
that ensnared so many other cops and mercenaries.
Kermit knew he had a habit of making snap judgments
about people, a carry-over from his mercenary days,
when it had been essential to survival to identify friend
or foe in microseconds. For Peter's sake, he hoped he
was wrong, and seeing more than was really there. He
also wondered if -- should his suspicions about Eppy
prove true -- Peter would be able to see Epstein as the
man he was now, or if the past would blind him to the
present.
Epstein had been wondering how effective a computer
geek could be as a cop, but something about the studied
casualness of this man, Kermit, made him think about
how often appearances could be deceiving.
Peter declared happily, "Hey, I'm gonna call Paul and
Annie and see if they wanna come join this gathering of
the troops at Chandler's tonight."
Skalany smiled wickedly. "What about your father?"
"Oh, yeah, he can come, too," Peter replied airily. "I
figured that you would take care of that little invitation."
