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Devon | Vittorio
Moments of Silence
Sat Feb 18, 2006 21:41
66.244.88.49

Devon felt worn… And tired.

Seated behind the driving wheel in his car, he stared through the windshield at his precinct, not wanting to step foot inside. He couldn’t deal with the looks again. Of pity and anguish, like last time. Or when he had come back from his… leave. Things had never become any better after that, though at least his colleagues would speak to him now.

Heaving a sigh, the officer finally got out of his car, and trudged into the building through the rear entrance. The first person that saw him was the dispatcher, who buzzed him in with a vaguely sympathetic look. Then it began. Every officer he saw, even just city employees, favored him with that look. The one he could never escape from. No one tried to talk to him after looking him in the eyes. Only a few shows of solidarity with a pat on the back, or squeezing his shoulder, before the path was cleared to the Chief’s office.

He didn’t even bother knocked, just walked right into his boss’ office. God, why did he feel so tired? He’d stayed up for longer hours than this, working just harder than he was now. Even so, it didn’t stop him from falling down into one of the chairs flanking the desk, the large dark-skinned man seated just beyond it favoring him with a sympathetic look.

“Any news?”

“Sonnet… She, uh… She’ll be in the ICU for a while,” Devon finally managed, looking down at his hands. “Those bastards almost broke her jaw, Vince!” Swallowing hard, the cop shook his head. “She’s fukked up, real bad. But she should be fine.” Eventually. Right, on to the reason he was here. “I need to take some time off, Chief.”

“Devon, I don’t think that’s such a good idea…”

“No. It probably isn’t, but I don’t give a rat’s ass any more. If you can’t get me the time off, transfer me to a department that can. I don’t care.” Devon couldn’t stop his voice from cracking, and it killed him inside. She had to be okay. Had to be! “I never even found out what happened. How…”

“Luciana Av—Holmes and Sonnet had walked past the shops and towards the docks.” But why? That wasn’t like them! “Apparently three men wanted to, uhm… take advantage of the woman.” Jesus Christ. “From what Luciana told us, Sonnet pushed her away, made her run.” Oh Sonnet… Stupid brave girl. “She phoned nine-one-one, and ran into two men.”

“Wait, what?” She had help?

“The details are fuzzy after this, mainly because… Well. The guy’s a diplomat, Holmes. But he had blood on his knuckles, and his hands were too large for any of the marks…” Devon let the Chief’s voice fade away at that point; he couldn’t listen to those things. “… Honestly? The guy did something we all wanted to do. One of those bastards is going to be a vegetable, more than likely. The other two are beat to hell.” Did us a favor…

“A diplomat did that?” The Chief nodded, handing Devon the case file on the incident. He bypassed the photographs, not having the stomach to deal with it at the moment. But the information on this man was something he’d like to see.

“Apparently your brother and sister-in-law took him and his partner back to his hotel.” Huh. Why would they do that? One of the officers would have likely given them a lift back. This wasn’t making any sense, there were gaps in the information that wasn’t allowing the stories to mesh.

Ri-ring! Ri-ring!

Devon scrambled for his phone, dropping the case file on the Chief’s desk. When he saw the hospital phone number on the caller ID, he could feel his heart jump into his throat. With shaking hands, he carefully flipped it open and put the infernal thing to his ear.

“Holmes heres.”

Darling! Everything’s fine. God, it was just Isabel. Why the hell was he acting like this? I wanted you to call your brother and Lucy, and invite them to lunch this afternoon. It was an odd request, but what was he going to do, say no? Hah. Oh, and that nice Sean and his boyfriend. I want everyone that cares about Sonnet there.

“Well, I doubt I can invite the entire force…” Devon murmured in good humor, feeling a bit more light hearted. If Isabel thought that they could leave the hospital for a short while, it would be fine. “Who’s staying with Sonnet?”

Michael will. Well, that was better than him being an angry jackass at lunch. And he’ll call if anything happens with Sonnet. Even if she just flickers an eyelid. He could deal with that. Just needed to remember to take nice deep breaths.

“All right, Isabel. I’ll get a hold of everyone. Call me later?” After receiving an affirmative, Devon flipped off the phone and slumped down into his chair, breathing deeply. He couldn’t take this, damn it! “Put in my time, Vince. I’ll get back to you.” He didn’t feel any steadier after that phone call, and left the precinct feeling as if he were stumbling on his own two feet.




Did you fetch the records?

Vittorio only nodded when Giulio handed him another manilla folder, which would eventually join the stack on the desk in his suite. But he had wanted to peek at the life surrounding this family that Luciana had insisted on joining. To say that it was colorful would be a… poor description.

Sonnet Tennyson had done well at the academy, near the top of her class. It gave him a bit of insight as to why the woman would have shoved a civilian aside, for she appeared too young to be in law enforcement many years. Though… For a couple of years, she had been part of the K-9 unit, until her partner had died on duty. Why in God’s name did they make animals actual police officers? He never understood that.

For the last three years, Sonnet had been back to regular patrol duty. Devon Holmes – of course this would just have to be Caleb’s brother, now wouldn’t it? – was assigned her partner just a few weeks prior. Apparently a jewelry thief had gotten the best of her; or not, Vittorio amended after viewing the crime scene photos. Other various heroics littered the woman’s short career thus far, and he felt that he had a better handle on the people he had interacted with.

Giulio, arrange for a car. We have someone to visit.” Apparently the Holmes had touched a great many lives. Why in God’s grace was that name familiar? Frowning, Vittorio rifled through the stacks, coming away with a dossier on the family. Jane was the oldest, a prominent lawyer with marital issues, and twin sons that created problems at school on a regular basis. Then Caleb, with his pock-marked career. Finally Devon, the police officer that was now Sonnet’s partner. His history was rather similar to the woman’s, top of the class in academy, various heroic deeds, it went on and on. Aside from his… mental failings several months prior. Involving an obsession with Luciana, no less! Then there was Moira, a self-proclaimed neurotic interior designer that… that…

Shit.

It was the woman he had met some time ago; a guest of Matteo’s at his estates. Vittorio wondered how many kinds of a fool he could actually be, not to remember such a thing. The woman had been American, not some Italian harlot! Sighing, he studied the last two offspring. Nigel was a professor at the esteemed NYU department, foremost on ancient European history and culture. And Bennett – who looked as if he could have been related to Geno with his height – was a burgeoning musician, about to graduate with honors in several areas.

It was a family filled with good-doers and over-achievers, which was frightening to say the least. How in the hell did such a thing happen? Perhaps it was due to the grandfather figure that had overshadowed their lives for some time. Vittorio snorted in disbelief at the name. Honestly. Sherlock Holmes? What a farce.

The car is ready, L’indoss.

Outstanding. Rising from his perch, Vittorio took a moment to smooth down his lapels and right the cuffs of the suit jacket, before taking leave of the suite. His business had been accomplished that morning, and it was only the ongoing meets that forced him to remain in this blasted city any longer. But, obviously, it was not a terrible thing, judging from last night’s activities. Today, his knuckles were bruised and sore, but a pair of gloves could hide that easily, considering the cold weather.

Once in the car, the driver was instructed to visit a florist in the heart of Little Italy. After all, one could not visit the sick or injured without the brightly plumed plants. It took little to find an appropriate bunch of orchids and vase to accompany the flowers. With his prize in Giulio’s hand, the two then were off to the hospital where Sonnet was imprisoned.

The unfortunately quandary was that nurses did not flinched when they saw a badge, or cower when they heard your name. Instead, things had been done the proper way, with Giulio waiting in the lobby – much to his discontent – while Vittorio would make a brief visit with Sonnet. It was unlikely that she was even conscious, which would make things even easier on his behalf. The flowers would merely be left behind, a note hidden between the stems stating that she should rest and recuperate, with a small footnote that Luciana had his contact information if she needed him.

One elevator ride later, and Vittorio was prowling down the halls of the intensive care wards, looking out of place in his tailored suit and coat, gloves hiding his hands, a vase nestled in the crook of his arm. Five-oh-six, five-oh-eight… There was her room.

It was so easy to slip in, unbothered or even unnoticed by the nurses. A quick glance at Sonnet’s chart told him what he needed to know. The injuries had been extensive, and it was a surprise that the woman had managed to hold onto consciousness that long the previous evening. Just as well, considering the amount of pain she must have been in. Setting the orchids on the small table in the room, beside the phone, he nodded to himself.

But it was the woman’s face that caught his eye at that moment, for she was likely lovely to behold when not battered and broken. Standing there at the foot of her hospital bed, Vittorio allowed himself a few moments of silent contemplation. No matter what line of business he may be in, the unnecessary beatings that people received for trivial reasons was disheartening.

But it was the sound of someone clearing their throat that made him realize he was no longer alone.

  • Tales of OldCastelluccio | Holmes, Sat Feb 18 10:36
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    • Moments of Silence — Devon | Vittorio, Sat Feb 18 21:41
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                • Surprise?Devon | Caleb, Tue Feb 21 23:39
                  God, he really was tired . Devon glanced from Sonnet’s prone form, to Michael seated across the way. The younger man had been casting him dirty glances throughout the morning, and then after... more
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