her breath enough to say,
“Don’t Richie.”
A man and a woman, both wearing business
clothes and detective’s badges on their belts, entered the
staircase. The male detective was white with blond hair. He was
tall, but not as tall as Richie was. The female detective was short
and looked Hispanic.
The male detective turned to the cop in uniform
and said, “I’ll take it from here, officer Martello. Just try to
clear that hallway, the bus should be here any minute.”
He turned to Richie and said, “I’m Detective
McCoy. This is my partner, Detective Perez.”
CHAPTER 3
At a small table in the back of the fundraiser,
near the piano, Bradley Bedford sipped a Martini while conversing
with his boss, David Schultz.
Next to David was Ko Sin Lu, the US ambassador
from The Republic of Tan Guk Van.
All three men wore glasses and tailored Italian
suits.
David, a sixty-two year old financial genius
with a swollen red nose and a receding hairline, supervisor of
American affairs for Yates Pharmaceuticals, sipped his
twelve-year-old Scotch, then turned to Ko Sin Lu and said, “So . .
. Lu . . . do you mind if I call you Lu?”
Ko Sin Lu replied in his heavy accent, “I like
it. It sounds very American.”
Bradley chuckled.
David took another sip, then said, “So . . . Lu
. . . your country will soon realize they made the right decision
to become a part of this great ideal we call
capitalism.”
As a black man who grew up in the projects and
earned his law degree through scholarships and hard work, Bradley
was happy to raise his glass and make a toast, “To
capitalism.”
David and Lu also raised their glasses and
said, “Capitalism.”
They all took a drink.
Bradley glanced at his watch. He was hoping to
visit his hot Russian mistress tonight before going home to his
wife, but now, watching David suck down that Scotch, he had a
feeling this was going to be a long night.
David said, “You know, Lu . . . you and your
country have given me something to look forward to. For the past
ten years, we’ve been dealing with religious fanatics in
Afghanistan. What a shit hole.” David took another sip and
winced.
Bradly watched a crowd of people gathered on
the other side of the room, near the entrance. He wondered what was
going on.
David continued speaking with Lu. “I hate those
damn religious fanatics. They’re not scared to kill themselves
because they get all those virgins after they die.”
“Virgins?”
David said, “Yeah, virgins. I know . . . the
whole thing is just so fucking crazy. Anyways, I’m just happy to
get out of there and get into your country. We don’t mind doing
business with gangsters. That’s something we already know how to
do.” David winked, then raised his glass.
Lu raised his glass.
Bradley noticed two paramedics enter the
fundraiser with an empty stretcher, then disappear behind the
crowd. “Something’s happening.”
David and Lu turned their heads to the
direction Bradley was looking.
The paramedics returned with the stretcher, no
longer empty, now it had a little boy on it.
Bradley said, “I wonder if that little boy is
one of the cancer patients.”
While looking at his phone, Lu said, “So sorry,
but I must go.”
David asked, “Everything alright? You need
anything?”
“Everything is fine.”
CHAPTER 4
While the detectives were at the hospital with
Richie Carson and his family, Joe Martello completed his paperwork
at the precinct.
He couldn’t understand how some people could
have such bad luck. That poor family. It’s not enough that their
five-year-old daughter had been diagnosed with cancer, now this
atrocity had to happen to their seven-year-old son.
Joe finished his paperwork and hoped there
weren’t any mistakes. He turned it in to the sergeant on duty and
prepared to go home for the night.
Before entering the men’s locker room, a chubby
little desk cop named Amy was just about to pass Joe, but she
stopped. She was short and round,
“Don’t Richie.”
A man and a woman, both wearing business
clothes and detective’s badges on their belts, entered the
staircase. The male detective was white with blond hair. He was
tall, but not as tall as Richie was. The female detective was short
and looked Hispanic.
The male detective turned to the cop in uniform
and said, “I’ll take it from here, officer Martello. Just try to
clear that hallway, the bus should be here any minute.”
He turned to Richie and said, “I’m Detective
McCoy. This is my partner, Detective Perez.”
CHAPTER 3
At a small table in the back of the fundraiser,
near the piano, Bradley Bedford sipped a Martini while conversing
with his boss, David Schultz.
Next to David was Ko Sin Lu, the US ambassador
from The Republic of Tan Guk Van.
All three men wore glasses and tailored Italian
suits.
David, a sixty-two year old financial genius
with a swollen red nose and a receding hairline, supervisor of
American affairs for Yates Pharmaceuticals, sipped his
twelve-year-old Scotch, then turned to Ko Sin Lu and said, “So . .
. Lu . . . do you mind if I call you Lu?”
Ko Sin Lu replied in his heavy accent, “I like
it. It sounds very American.”
Bradley chuckled.
David took another sip, then said, “So . . . Lu
. . . your country will soon realize they made the right decision
to become a part of this great ideal we call
capitalism.”
As a black man who grew up in the projects and
earned his law degree through scholarships and hard work, Bradley
was happy to raise his glass and make a toast, “To
capitalism.”
David and Lu also raised their glasses and
said, “Capitalism.”
They all took a drink.
Bradley glanced at his watch. He was hoping to
visit his hot Russian mistress tonight before going home to his
wife, but now, watching David suck down that Scotch, he had a
feeling this was going to be a long night.
David said, “You know, Lu . . . you and your
country have given me something to look forward to. For the past
ten years, we’ve been dealing with religious fanatics in
Afghanistan. What a shit hole.” David took another sip and
winced.
Bradly watched a crowd of people gathered on
the other side of the room, near the entrance. He wondered what was
going on.
David continued speaking with Lu. “I hate those
damn religious fanatics. They’re not scared to kill themselves
because they get all those virgins after they die.”
“Virgins?”
David said, “Yeah, virgins. I know . . . the
whole thing is just so fucking crazy. Anyways, I’m just happy to
get out of there and get into your country. We don’t mind doing
business with gangsters. That’s something we already know how to
do.” David winked, then raised his glass.
Lu raised his glass.
Bradley noticed two paramedics enter the
fundraiser with an empty stretcher, then disappear behind the
crowd. “Something’s happening.”
David and Lu turned their heads to the
direction Bradley was looking.
The paramedics returned with the stretcher, no
longer empty, now it had a little boy on it.
Bradley said, “I wonder if that little boy is
one of the cancer patients.”
While looking at his phone, Lu said, “So sorry,
but I must go.”
David asked, “Everything alright? You need
anything?”
“Everything is fine.”
CHAPTER 4
While the detectives were at the hospital with
Richie Carson and his family, Joe Martello completed his paperwork
at the precinct.
He couldn’t understand how some people could
have such bad luck. That poor family. It’s not enough that their
five-year-old daughter had been diagnosed with cancer, now this
atrocity had to happen to their seven-year-old son.
Joe finished his paperwork and hoped there
weren’t any mistakes. He turned it in to the sergeant on duty and
prepared to go home for the night.
Before entering the men’s locker room, a chubby
little desk cop named Amy was just about to pass Joe, but she
stopped. She was short and round,
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