Betrayal of the Code

Captain Montrose sent Detective Raley home after he explained what happened at the doctor's place. He couldn't contain his surprise when Raley told him that the doctor was presumably dead and supposedly just a patsy and that the tails that he provided them were not-so-honorable. The Captain had shaken his head in disappointment; they were from his old precinct after all.

The Captain expected Raley to be angry with him because he got sent home, but he seemed at ease with the whole situation. Montrose just shrugged it off, thinking maybe the stress of the situation hadn't hit him yet.

Detective Ochoa along with Officer Johnson were both going to be okay. Ochoa would probably have to deal with a few weeks of physical therapy, but all in all, he would be back to work in no time at all. Johnson wasn't as lucky. He had several broken bones to go with his gunshot wounds, and as soon as possible he would be moved to a prison hospital to await trail.

Montrose's desk phone rang: the Caller-ID indicated that it was Detective Heat.

"What is it Detective?"

"I'm faxing you over a couple of pictures that the security camera took of Grant and the shop owner. They should be arriving at your desk in a minute or two. By the way, we were able to bring Grant with us, with one addendum to the plan: a prison guard is to accompany him to the precinct."

"That's fine, you on your way?"

"Not quite, we're headed to the car now. Thanks for the tail by the way."

Captain Montrose could hear the agitation in her voice. "Be glad you got who you did. Raley and Ochoa's turned out to be on the wrong side of the investigation."

Detective Heat froze for a moment, wondering what could have happened. "They okay?"

"Raley came out unscathed, but Ochoa was shot in the arm. He will be back to normal in a few weeks."

"Glad to hear it sir," the relief was easily covered the concern in her voice, but the Captain could still hear her distress. "By the way sir, we have any luck with the shop owner?"

"The team I sent didn't find him there, but someone left in a hurry, I am having a CSU team sweep the shop."

"Okay, let me know if you find out anything useful."

"Will do, see you in a few hours Detective."

Just as he hung up his phone, a fax printed off his printer. He pulled it out and found himself face to face with the image of Travis Grant yet again. Grant was sitting in what appeared to be the prisoner side of the visitor's area, conversing with someone on the other side of the glass. The visitors face was obscured by the glare from the lights across the room.

At the bottom of photo was a time stamp, it showed that this was a video still and not a photo. It was dated last Monday. Beside that Montrose noticed handwriting that he recognized as Detective Heat's. It read, Visitor picture on the way.

Just as soon has Montrose had finished reading; a new fax began to print itself off. The Captain pulled this new sheet off the printer and began to examine it. A shocking revelation struck him, he knew the man who had visited Grant.

He was a cop, or at least he used to be. His name was Ford Bunn and he was the former Captain of the 13th precinct. He remembered him from back when he was still a rookie detective. Bunn had retired just before the murder's that Grant was supposedly guilty of committing.

It was hard for Montrose to see Bunn as a 'dirty' cop, but it didn't look good, with him talking to Grant just a week before the murders occurred. He hoped that there was another explanation for what was going on but could think of none at the moment. How long had Bunn been up to this kind of stuff anyway?

Montrose hung his head and chuckled sadly to himself. A rookie would fall for what he was thinking, not a seasoned captain. He was just wondering a day ago if one of his own could have been a killer. The truth was that nobody was completely innocent, despite how honest and true that they may seem to be.

His former Captain was too smart to do something like stay put after committing a crime. There was somewhere that Bunn could possibly be he remembered from his time at the 13th. His knowledge could be useful, and he knew that he had to move now. Unfortunately he was out of officers that he could trust at the moment. He picked up his desk phone and began to dial.

"Raley, I know I just gave you the day off, but I need some backup and you're the only cop I feel I can trust in the city at the moment that's not injured," the captain's voice was shallow and breathy.

"Where," the detective replied immediately and without question.

"It's up north. I'll pick you up. Just make sure you're armed and ready when I swing by."

"Understood, Sir." With that, Raley hung up.

Montrose hung up as well and grabbed his jacket. He headed for the elevator, ready to settle a now personal score.