straight.
“Things are good with you?” Ray asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on his legs as he studied Anthony.
Anth knew that he shouldn’t feel ill at ease.
Ray was in Anth ’s office, sitting in Anth ’s guest chair.
It was Anthony’s domain, and normally the people who came into this office knew it. But with Ray looking at him with that shrewd gaze of his, Anthony resisted the urge to squirm.
Ray couldn’t have been more than five years older than Anthony—maybe early forties at the most—but he had a quiet command about him.
“Things are good,” Anth said cautiously.
I mean, minus the fact that I haven’t caught Smiley, the one woman I’ve been even remotely interested in in months may or may not be avoiding me, and I haven’t eaten my leftover lasagna for lunch yet because you’ve been running your mouth for forty-five minutes.
“Good, good,” Ray said, oblivious to Anth’s inner rant. “I hate to ask, but you know I’ve got to…any update on Smiley? I know it’s a run-of-the-mill burglar, but ever since the press picked it up, the bosses have picked it up, all the way to the very top.”
Anthony was careful not to show a shred of emotion at mention of the current commissioner. He knew he was biased, but Tony Moretti’s successor was a grandstanding asshole who cared a lot more about looking good on TV than he did about the people of the city.
“We’ve got a lead,” Anthony said. “A good one.”
“Right, the wife.”
“Ex-wife,” Anthony corrected.
“Remind me how she came into the picture?”
Anthony stayed resolutely relaxed in his chair. “She’s a waitress at the Darby Diner. I was doing some off-hours work there and she saw the sketch.”
He was braced for the deputy chief to ride his ass for taking potentially sensitive documents out of the precinct, but luckily Ray was more about results than he was strict adherence to the rules.
“Lucky break,” Ray said, leaning back and tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair. “You trust her? Or think she’s looking for attention?”
“She provided a handful of pictures of Eddie Hansen. The resemblance is there. If anyone’s off base here, it’s the witness who provided the description of our guy. If that’s even our guy.”
“Hell of a thing,” Ray said. “A criminal savvy or lucky enough to evade us a half dozen times, and he doesn’t even take anything worth stealing.”
“He takes people’s sense of privacy…their right to safety,” Anthony said, barely managing to keep the lecture out of his mouth.
“Right, right,” Ray said distractedly. “Well, I guess this wife…”
“Ex-wife.”
“Ex-wife,” Ray continued, “won’t be much use if she’s not in touch with the guy. You said in your last report they hadn’t had any contact?”
Anthony shook his head. “No. Since then she thinks she might have seen him outside the diner where she works, but she won’t swear it’s him, and I can’t justify putting a watch on the place based on a hesitant maybe .”
Ray pursed his lips. “What if—”
There was a loud knock on Anthony’s door, but it opened before he could utter his usual gruff come in.
Vincent stormed in. “Anth, for God’s sake, would you answer your motherfucking— Oh . You’ve got company.”
Anthony inhaled. Leave it to his clueless brother to refer to Anthony’s superior as company , complete with a dark scowl.
“Vin, this is Deputy Chief Mandela.”
He waited for his brother to show some sort of deference, but Vin merely jerked his chin in greeting. “Hey.”
Luckily, Ray seemed more amused than he did offended, although he did look at Anthony for an explanation as to why uninvited visitors were barging into his office.
“Sir, this is Detective Moretti.”
“Ah, the other brother,” Ray said, standing and extending a hand. “I’ve met Luca a handful of times, but I don’t think you and I have met in person. Homicide,
“Things are good with you?” Ray asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on his legs as he studied Anthony.
Anth knew that he shouldn’t feel ill at ease.
Ray was in Anth ’s office, sitting in Anth ’s guest chair.
It was Anthony’s domain, and normally the people who came into this office knew it. But with Ray looking at him with that shrewd gaze of his, Anthony resisted the urge to squirm.
Ray couldn’t have been more than five years older than Anthony—maybe early forties at the most—but he had a quiet command about him.
“Things are good,” Anth said cautiously.
I mean, minus the fact that I haven’t caught Smiley, the one woman I’ve been even remotely interested in in months may or may not be avoiding me, and I haven’t eaten my leftover lasagna for lunch yet because you’ve been running your mouth for forty-five minutes.
“Good, good,” Ray said, oblivious to Anth’s inner rant. “I hate to ask, but you know I’ve got to…any update on Smiley? I know it’s a run-of-the-mill burglar, but ever since the press picked it up, the bosses have picked it up, all the way to the very top.”
Anthony was careful not to show a shred of emotion at mention of the current commissioner. He knew he was biased, but Tony Moretti’s successor was a grandstanding asshole who cared a lot more about looking good on TV than he did about the people of the city.
“We’ve got a lead,” Anthony said. “A good one.”
“Right, the wife.”
“Ex-wife,” Anthony corrected.
“Remind me how she came into the picture?”
Anthony stayed resolutely relaxed in his chair. “She’s a waitress at the Darby Diner. I was doing some off-hours work there and she saw the sketch.”
He was braced for the deputy chief to ride his ass for taking potentially sensitive documents out of the precinct, but luckily Ray was more about results than he was strict adherence to the rules.
“Lucky break,” Ray said, leaning back and tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair. “You trust her? Or think she’s looking for attention?”
“She provided a handful of pictures of Eddie Hansen. The resemblance is there. If anyone’s off base here, it’s the witness who provided the description of our guy. If that’s even our guy.”
“Hell of a thing,” Ray said. “A criminal savvy or lucky enough to evade us a half dozen times, and he doesn’t even take anything worth stealing.”
“He takes people’s sense of privacy…their right to safety,” Anthony said, barely managing to keep the lecture out of his mouth.
“Right, right,” Ray said distractedly. “Well, I guess this wife…”
“Ex-wife.”
“Ex-wife,” Ray continued, “won’t be much use if she’s not in touch with the guy. You said in your last report they hadn’t had any contact?”
Anthony shook his head. “No. Since then she thinks she might have seen him outside the diner where she works, but she won’t swear it’s him, and I can’t justify putting a watch on the place based on a hesitant maybe .”
Ray pursed his lips. “What if—”
There was a loud knock on Anthony’s door, but it opened before he could utter his usual gruff come in.
Vincent stormed in. “Anth, for God’s sake, would you answer your motherfucking— Oh . You’ve got company.”
Anthony inhaled. Leave it to his clueless brother to refer to Anthony’s superior as company , complete with a dark scowl.
“Vin, this is Deputy Chief Mandela.”
He waited for his brother to show some sort of deference, but Vin merely jerked his chin in greeting. “Hey.”
Luckily, Ray seemed more amused than he did offended, although he did look at Anthony for an explanation as to why uninvited visitors were barging into his office.
“Sir, this is Detective Moretti.”
“Ah, the other brother,” Ray said, standing and extending a hand. “I’ve met Luca a handful of times, but I don’t think you and I have met in person. Homicide,
Similar Books
