Phil Spinoza followed Tannehill to Capital City during the same year as the latter's migration - 1913 - and from the same originating city - Chicago. Spinoza's family had settled in the Uptown neighborhood of the city a few years prior to his birth after emigrating from Europe. The family's original name was Landau, but Phil's father changed their family name to Spinoza to honor the philosopher who espoused the Jewish roots and Enlightenment ideals his father held so dear.
Unlike Tannehill, Spinoza came to Capital City with an express purpose of joining the burgeoning journalism community of the exploding city. Armed with a freshly minted English degree from Northwestern and a recommendation from a cousin in the publishing industry, Spinoza breezed easily through his interview at The Daily Courier and accepted a position as a cub reporter and photographer on the crime beat.
Though he received no small amount of newsroom abuse for his pedigree - Spinoza was amazed that reporters who could wax poetic with 2000 word deadlines looming couldn't come up with a better nickname for him than "College Boy" - the environment at the Courier couldn't be more different than the environment Tannehill faced at the CCPD. Reporters were commended for upholding constant barrages of questions and pursuing lines of inquiry that seemed to have little in common with the matter at hand but resulted in an amusing factoid nonetheless. This was in stark contrast to the police department's taciturn and direct culture.
Though Spinoza could've nominally applied for the CCPD, he would've been rejected for his inability to speak Gaelic proficiently. When confronted with this fact, he would've pointed out that he had a good grasp of both Yiddish and Polish, the latter of which would've proven valuable in a police force that was nearly 40% Catholic and Eastern European. Upon pointing out this fact, CCPD commanders would've have pointed out, per The Professor's scientific research, that Yiddish could easily be confused with other languages of Eastern and Central Europe causing confusion during periods of intense stress. This fact was often used to discouraged men of Jewish descent from applying to the CCPD, for fear that, when confused or under pressure, they would speak unintelligibly in Yiddish, risking the lives of other officers. However, when faced with this fact, Spinoza would've pointed out that this was of little concern as he was fluent in English because (a) he was a native-born citizen of the United States and (b) had an English degree from a well-known university in those same United States.
When confronted with this fact, the CCPD brass likely would've discovered another flaw that made Spinoza unsuitable for police work - he did tend to be a bit nasal, which could cause confusion during periods of intense stress among officers for those who didn't understand his speech patterns. Spinoza would've responded that the French - a nation known and celebrated for their nasal language - did not face national security risks or crime prevention problems based on their accent. Luckily for both Spinoza and the CCPD, he didn't apply to the police force.
Unluckily for the CCPD, Spinoza used this back-and-forth style in his interaction with officers and CCPD superiors at a crime scene or press conference to deconstruct their often poorly constructed theories or press releases leading to more than one embarrassing political scandal for a city and department that prized political perception above all else.
Spinoza met Tannehill early in their careers while Tannehill was guarding the crime scene of a garden variety homicide Spinoza had been dispatched to report on and photograph. The air was cool and permeated with the mildest of drizzles. While other people around them pulled their lapels around their throats and huddled against the misery of the night, both Spinoza and Tannehill stood proud-chested observing the scene around them - a telling indicator for spotting someone else who'd survived more than one Midwestern winter. Seeing each other set in relief against weather others found unbearable, it was merely a matter of moments before the two men began chatting and discovered that they were, in fact, from the same city.
With this common bond in place and a shared passion for intellectual pursuits, the two soon became familiar with one another an aware of the other's intent on serving the public from their own perspective.
Though he would provide Spinoza the occasional direct tip when he could be assured that his anonymity would remain intact, more often Tannehill would deliver (the often absurd) official statements doled out by his superiors to Spinoza and the other members of the press corps. These statements would often address the precarious nature of the conditions suspects faced in various in precincts around the city.
Spinoza would challenge the official account, fully expecting Tannehill to respond to the challenge in pseudo-defense of the police department's policies. To an outside observer, the interaction would've been indistinguishable from a Vaudeville act. Both participants knew the broad underlying truth, but the point of this particular discourse was to determine who could reach the point of absurdity without crossing into it, for what else was there to do when the parts they played were predetermined than to improvise on the mode of delivery. The exchanges often took place along lines similar to ones that follow:
Tannehill: Unfortunately, the suspect passed away before he was able to be brought to justice. We've notified his next of kin.
Spinoza: How did he die?
Tannehill: The coroner is still finishing his investigation, but it appears to be due to massive internal injuries caused by blunt force trauma.
Spinoza: How did the blunt force trauma occur?
Tannehill: As you may have been aware, the suspect tended to be clumsy and fell down a flight of stairs.
Spinoza: Is that your official investigative opinion? That he was clumsy?
Tannehill: You're right. I shouldn't speculate. The fact, however, remains that he fell down a flight of stairs and expired shortly thereafter.
Spinoza: Quite a solid fact. Any comment on the fact that this is the third suspect to meet the same untimely end in a police precinct in the last year?
Tannehill: Unfortunately, many of our precincts are antiquated and moving around them can be precarious.
Spinoza: Then why is it always suspects, not officers who face these problems?
Tannehill: Officers of the CCPD have more experience in their home precincts than do the suspects we apprehend. We're more likely to know the tricky spots.
Spinoza: Fair response. My sources in the coroner's office indicated that this particular suspect had a bullet wound to his chest. Any comment on that?
Tannehill: It's a police station. Many people are armed. It's not unlikely that a new officer may have panicked at the thought of a suspected violent criminal coming toward him quickly down a flight of stairs and discharged his revolver in defense while the suspect was falling.
Spinoza: So, not necessarily blunt trauma?
Tannehill: It's also possible the suspect fell on a bullet while tumbling down the stairs. As I said, it's a police station, there are weapons everywhere.
...and so on. The cat and mouse game always headed in a direction in which Spinoza made clear he wasn't going to back down, while Tannehill made clear that Spinoza's line of thought was correct, but did so without violating the code of silence the department held so dear. Through these types of interactions and the implicit shared understanding between the two participants, the two developed a mutual respect that served them well in their respective, if contrary, roles.
[Author's Note: 1256 words for this round for a grand total of 9504 - almost to the first 5 figure mark (and 20%) to the 50000 words I promised.]
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