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He found some cash in his right pants pocket, along with a hotel room card and a little flip knife at the back of his belt. The man’s phone was in his inside jacket pocket, and he slid it out. It was still on. The phone was in one of those industrial waterproof shock cases and had survived the fall unharmed. How do you like that?
“Who says they don’t make good products anymore?” Devine said as he pocketed it.
He patted Pretty Boy down, took off his shoes and socks, and unbuckled his belt. He did a quick professional groin probe with his green rubber-gloved hands. There was nothing else on him. Not even a wallet. It had to be on his phone then, on his contacts or in his notes. It wasn’t in his room. They’d already checked there. No luck. Found what looked liked a couple of grand in cash, sure—but left it. Give the cops a chance to chase their tails.
Devine shook his head as he took Pretty Boy’s pulse again. Still alive, the stupid ass. Too dumb to die. Was he conscious on some level?
“Where is it?” he said to him. “On your phone, right? Is it on your phone? Tell me, bro, and I’ll save you. You still have a chance.”
He waited. Nothing. He looked at the state of him. His face and jaw. Pretty Boy couldn’t have talked if he’d wanted to.
“Okay, have it your way,” Devine said, pinching Pretty Boy’s nose and closing a hand over his mouth.
Devine clucked his tongue and shook his head down at Pretty Boy as he made the smallest groan of protest.
“No, Pretty Boy, it’s time for me to talk,” Devine told him quietly as he squatted there, killing him.
“See, everybody always said how top-notch you were. Mr. True Team Member, grace under pressure and all that jazz, but I never bought it. I never liked you. I always knew you looked down on me, that it was just an act.
“You had it all, bro. But you had to go and screw yourself up and ruin everything. We’re all really disappointed in you, man. Me and Therk and the boss. You had such potential, dude, such amazing potential, but you blew it like the loser that you deep down are and always were. Okay? I just wanted you to know that. Get it off my chest and set the record straight. I feel better now. Thanks a bunch, bro. Good night now.”
Chase
Chapter 1
“Good morning, Detective Bennet
t.”
A little after 8:30 on a Tuesday morning late in October, I smiled at the double row of kids sitting cross-legged on the linoleum at the front of the classroom. They were seven-year-olds, about thirty of them, very cute and trying to stay still so as not to muss their Catholic school uniforms.
I was doing a little free PR work for the NYPD. It was Holy Name’s career day, and I was there in front of my youngest daughter, Chrissy’s, second grade class.
It wasn’t the first time I had spoken at the school. In fact, I had spoken at the second grade career day for pretty much all of my ten adopted kids.
But because of my not-so-stellar track record as a speaker, I’d already been told by my older daughters to keep my talk brief and to the point. There was to be no going off script, and there would be absolutely no displays of the patented Bennett sense of humor.
I had absolutely no idea what they were talking about. My kids were far too sensitive.
I took a breath and Chrissy’s teacher, Sr. Claire, smiled at me encouragingly.
“Try to keep the f-bombs to a minimum, Serpico, would you, please?” whispered my grandfather, Father Seamus, who was at my side to observe the proceedings. “Try not to scar the minds of these fine young Christians any more than necessary.”
“I’ll do my best, Monsignor. Thanks for the pep talk. It means a lot coming from a man of the cloth.”
Seamus was my actual grandfather and, yes, a priest. He’d gone into the seminary after Nana passed. Though well into his eighties, he was still as sharp and sarcastic as ever.
“Hello, boys and girls. I’m Chrissy’s dad, and I’m a police officer. Who knows what police officers do?” I started.
A cute, nerdy little kid with glasses, Henry, raised his hand from the back.
“Yes, Henry?”
“Have you ever handled a sniper rifle?” he said as the other kids started laughing.
“Well, yes, actually. I have. Now who knows what a policeman does?”
Just as I said this, my phone started ringing. I had forgotten to put it on airplane mode, and the loud tones started playing, to the amusement of all the kids.
