Chapter 26–Wednesday, 7:03AM

Herb entered the station. Most of the day shift wouldn’t be there for fifteen minutes. The night shift guys were busy filling out paper work on the night’s calls.

The chief walked straight to his office and, pulling door shut and sat at his desk. He pulled out his yellow pad.

He was busily scribbling two hours later when a knock at his door startled him.

“Come in,” he shouted. “It’s unlocked.”

Linda opened the door. “Frond on line 2, sir,” she said.

Where was Marge? Herb wondered. She should’ve just put the call through.

Linda turned to leave, but Herb stopped her. “Hold on, Linda,” he said, reaching for the phone. “I need you to do something for me.” He paused. “I’ll come to your office when I’m done with Frond.”

“Yes, sir,” Linda said. She turned and walked away.

“Yeah,” Herb said, picking up the handset. “What did Sally find?”

“Nothing, Herb.” The shrink said nothing more.

“Nothing?” Herb wasn’t sure he’d heard right.

Frond was quick to explain. “She got here early and I put her to work on it right away. She’s checked everywhere.”

“Do we have any back up?” Herb asked. “Microfiche or something?”

“We do,” the psych confirmed. “Sally’s got a call in to someone at the microfiche center.”

“Okay,” Herb said. “Call me if they find anything.”

“You know I will, Herb.” Frond’s voice was soft.

Herb was taken aback by the polite tone. He stammered his thanks and hung up.

Seconds later, he stepped out of his office and headed for Linda’s. He walked through the door without knocking.

“I need the duty records for every day there was a chopping,” he blurted out. “I need them now.”

Linda looked up. “I’ll do my best, sir,” she promised. “Shouldn’t take long.”

Her words jogged his memory. Truman hadn’t called back about the VBI’s cell trace. He glanced at the clock on the wall. 7:22am. “Thanks,” he said to Linda. “I’ll be in the lab.” With that, the chief turned and walked out.

“Hey!” Marge shouted from her desk as Herb passed through the lobby. “Quick question.”

Herb stopped. “What is it, Marge?”

The eggplant spoke quickly. “Gone to String’s place?” she asked.

Herb smacked his forehead. He’d been so focused on everything else that he’d forgotten to phone his officer’s bereaved wife.

“I’ll call,” Herb said.

“No!” Marge insisted. “Go.”

“Okay,” Herb said. “I’ll go in a...”

“Go now!” His dispatcher was angry. Herb could tell by the reddish rings around her eyes. Marge was not one to be trifled with when she was mad.

“I’ll grab my coat,” Herb said, and walked to his office.

He was in and out in seconds. Pulling on his stalking cap as he walked past Marge’s desk, he spoke quickly. “Make sure Linda and Truman know where I am,” he instructed. “They’re working on things for me.”

“Will do,” Marge said pleasantly enough.

Herb exited the building.