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“This is Pro. What’s up, Tom?”
“Have you seen a television today?”
“No,” Pro said and got to her feet. “What’s wrong?”
“Ask Shaut to tune in Channel Four. They are about to show something you need to see.”
Pro pressed the phone to her shoulder and walked into Malcolm Shaut’s office. “Sir, how do you turn on the TV in the room I’m in?”
“What?” Shaut said and looked up. He rose from his desk and went into the waiting room where Pro had been sitting. He yanked open a hidden drawer on the coffee table, extracted a remote control, and pointed it at the screen, which came to life. “Is that what you need?”
“Yes, please, Channel Four.”
Shaut hit a number on the remote, then handed it to Pro and returned to his office.
“Thank you,” Pro told Shaut as he left. She then spoke into her phone. “Okay, I’ve got it.”
“And we are both going to get it,” Chu grunted.
The screen was tuned to the correct station, and a pair of clean-cut news anchors were sitting side by side at a large desk. The man, who had a smile that suggested expensive dentistry, turned to his cohost and smirked. “Rough day for the NYPD, Carole.”
The blonde co-host, obviously Carole, grinned a practiced dimpled smile and replied, “You’re right, Frank. Video footage given to Channel Four clearly shows that they have trouble keeping people in their cells.”
“No, God, please no,” Pro whimpered, as the image changed to the holding cell occupied by her father.
With enhancements that highlighted the unlocking of the cell, and arrows that showed Max’s escape route, the male host continued speaking. “Indeed they do. Of course, it turns out they had arrested none other than famed Las Vegas magician, Max Marvell. As you can see from the footage, he was able to pick the cell lock in mere seconds, and then walked right out disguised as an NYPD officer.”
The camera went back to the artfully dimpled Carole who was saying, “I think there are going to be some people in trouble at NYPD.”
Frank appeared and glanced back at his shapely associate. “It is an embarrassing situation, as Max Marvell is over sixty-two years old and got out of the cell in less than sixty-two seconds. I guess this proves the old guy still has some mad skills, Carole.”
Carole was centered in the camera and continued, “In other news tonight—”
Pro still had the remote in her hand, and she pressed the button to shut off the television, as she forced herself to stay calm. She walked through the apartment door and into the hall and put the phone to her ear. “You still there, Tom?”
“I haven’t been thrown out of the building yet. But I do expect the LT at any moment to do that very thing.”
“I am so sorry,” Pro fretted.
“This points to what you said about the NYPD servers being hacked. How else could anyone get that video?”
“It not only makes us look bad, it hurts the entire department,” Pro lamented.
“Pro, look, I gotta tell you that it is only going to get worse. Channel Four has been playing it for hours, and once this goes viral, someone is going to find out you’re his daughter. Once they do that, they are probably going to suggest this was all a publicity stunt with you as an accomplice!”
Pro sighed heavily. “I’ll fix it, Tom.”
“How can you fix it?”
“Easy. Tomorrow, I’ll go to the LT and resign,” Pro said as she fought to hold back tears.
“Pro, that’s not a good answer! You’re a good cop. You have the makings of a great detective.”
“I won’t bring shame on my precinct or the NYPD. Don’t try to talk me out of it. I’ve made my decision.”
“But, Pro—”
“In the meantime,” Pro said, taking a deep breath and straightening her back, “I am still a cop for one more day. I’d better get to work.”
