“Thanks,” Marlow said.
The Black Hawk swung in over them, and Gil kicked two ropes down. The thick, weighted skein of black webbing swung back and forth over the roof.
“We’ve got to rescue ourselves?” Bennett asked. “What the hell. Give me a hand.”
Marlow pushed himself up, grabbed her wrist, and dragged her up. The dregs of gas that reached them stung his throat and made his eyes itch. It didn’t have the same potency on a null as it did on a wolf, but it was still an irritant. Usually it set Marlow’s hay fever off as well.
They limped over to the ropes. Marlow steadied the first as Bennett clumsily wedged her uninjured foot in the loop. She twisted the rope around her hand and looked at Marlow.
“You know, either of us would have been a fucking amazing lieutenant,” she said.
“Still could be,” Marlow said as he grabbed the other rope.
It was a lie, but it was a nice thought. Both of them hung on grimly as the pilot took the Black Hawk up and out of the hot zone. When it landed, the paramedics grabbed Bennett and Gil stalked over to Marlow.
“You’re under arrest,” she said. “What the hell did you think—”
“It wasn’t him,” Bennett said. She wrenched her arm away from the medic before they could slip a needle into the crook of her elbow. “Franklin did it and framed Marlow. He tried to kill me too.”
Not quite the whole story, but it was close enough. It would do until they got back to the station and Marlow could lay it all out for them.
He nodded when Gil looked at him. “I didn’t kill anyone,” he said. “Franklin can’t say the same.”
It was morning, but there was no rest for the wicked. Or for anyone else.
Gil leaned against the back wall of the office and drank cold, thick coffee as if she couldn’t taste it. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her hands had a slight, noticeable tremor.
“So you see,” she said as O’Hara stared at his desk. “Clemons is a serial killer. Franklin is a murderer, a wannabe cop killer twice over, and a corrupt cop, and Piper’s lawyer is a fucking shark. So, busy night.”
Technically, Marlow was still under arrest. His hands were cuffed, and they’d taken his weapons when they brought him in. He slouched down in the black leather chair and spread his hands as far as the cuffs would let him.
“Don’t forget that Bennett’s in hospital,” Marlow added. “And the Old Town Market is in ruins.”
O’Hara sat back and rubbed his hands over his face.
“Why didn’t you just turn yourself in, Marlow?” he asked. “You know I knew there was still corruption in the Night Shift.”
Gil pushed herself off the wall. “You knew what the fuck?” she said.
That made O’Hara wince. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
“I didn’t know who else was dirty,” Marlow said. “Every single Night Shift officer in this precinct came up with either Piper or Franklin. Any of them could have been dirty.”
“Even me?” Gil asked.
“You turned a blind eye to Piper,” Marlow said. “You knew he bent the rules. Why should I assume you didn’t know he’d broken them?”
“I…”
“He’s right,” O’Hara said. “We didn’t clean house last time, Gil. Not enough. We just brushed stuff under the rug and tried not to look down. I wouldn’t have trusted us either, I guess.”
He flicked through the file in front of him: Clemons’s other victims. There was a map that Bennett had made of Clemons’s route that turned up three more potential targets and then the information on Franklin that Justin had sent over. A lot of problems for first thing in the morning.
“You’re still suspended for now,” O’Hara said. “Until I can do this officially, but go home, Marlow. Get some rest.”
Easier said than done. Marlow held his hands out to be uncuffed and pushed himself up from the seat.
“Piper’s going to be a problem,” he said. “He didn’t hand over that stuff for free.”
