Conflict of Interest

Chapter Twenty Four

Carrie

I wondered when exactly this role reversal had taken place - the one in which I was being irrational and just plain stupid, and Kim, Detective Kimberly Hayden of all people, was the voice of reason. As it turned out, that voice was quite an annoying one, and one I tuned out completely. For a moment I wondered whether I sounded that annoying when I preached to Kim about trying to bend the fourth amendment. 

"It doesn't matter if we find anything, because it'll be inadmissible," she whined, nonetheless following me into the storage room. "You tell me this every day."

"There are six exceptions to the exclusionary rule," I mulled didactically. "One of which is consent, another of which is plain view. And if, hypothetically, I were to come across pertinent evidence incident to a sweep of the premises which was permitted by the suspect..."

"En ingles, por favor," she muttered, unimpressed. 

"He let us in here," I amended. "Kind of. So whatever happens to turn up in plain view is fair game. Kind of."

"And what if he says that he kind of didn't let us in here?"

I just shrugged. "What does he know? He's drunk."

"That's pushing it."

"Okay, he's above the legal limit? Look, it doesn't matter. Clapp is going to keep him occupied, I'm going to find something to link him to the assault, then -- have it your way -- I'll get you a warrant to come back for it with."

"A warrant is for what you're expecting to find."

"Well if I find it today, I'm expecting to find it tomorrow."

"I don't think I like your tone, Counselor."

"I didn't ask you to like my tone. I asked you to look for a crowbar in this mess of a storage room."

She just sighed. "You would bring up the cleanliness of the area to be searched. And CSRU already collected the weapon, so to be honest, I think you're on a fruitless journey here."

"Like always, you're wrong. If we can find others like the weapon, that links the assault to the bar, the bar to Walsh, and therefore, Walsh to the assault. It's syllogism."

She sighed, sitting down on a crate. "You are such a nerd."

"But I can't find anything in here," I complained, ignoring her. "It could take years to pull some usable evidence out of all this...entropy."

"Maybe that's God telling you you're breaking the law."

"Fuck off."

"Excuse me?"

"That's Carrie telling you to fuck off."

"You know, I don't know why I even hang out with you anymore. You're such a bitch."

"You don't hang out with me period," I noted as fact. "We work together."

Barely audibly, she added "And sleep together every so often."

I turned around completely, somewhat appalled by her inability to let this go. "Once," I reminded her loudly.

"Twice," she reminded me, but quietly.

"One and a half," I muttered, compromising because I didn't want to lose.

"No," she disagreed, shaking her head. "No, a half is usually reserved for something that's started but never finished, and well..." She started laughing then, unable to finish her own joke. "I think we're both in agreement that you definitely finished."