Gospel by Sydney Bauer

hospitality for some time.’
    â€˜And what is that, Detective?’ asked Ramirez, his breath unusually cool. ‘Some witty revolutionary anecdote no doubt. “No taxation without representation” or the like.’
    â€˜Close,’ said Joe. ‘But this one is a little less poetic. It goes something like this: “Think before you speak, look before you shoot and . . . ”’
    â€˜Oh, I can guess this one,’ interrupted Ramirez, his words dripping with derision. ‘“Wait before you criticise”. Am I right, Detective?’
    â€˜Wrong, Ramirez,’ said Joe, maintaining eye contact as he took a slight step closer to the arrogant FBI Agent. ‘It’s “Be careful who you fuck with”.’
    Minutes later, Special Agent Leo King left his office and made for the fire stairs of the FBI’s Boston Field Office at the semi-circular One Center Plaza building. He wanted to catch his detective friend before he managed to hail a cab and head back to Roxbury.
    He saw him, at the top of the incline, turning right off Somerset into Beacon. King picked up the pace.
    â€˜Joe. Wait up,’ he called, and Mannix turned, the look on his face saying it all.
    â€˜Forget it, Leo. I’ve heard all I wanted to hear this afternoon – and none of it came from you.’
    â€˜Come on, Joe,’ he was next to him now, shading his face from the early evening sun that crept in between the high rise of a shady Downtown jungle. ‘You’re the one who set the cat amongst the pigeons. Ramirez is an asshole but he’s also very good at his job.’
    â€˜What?’ said Joe. ‘You cannot be serious, Simba. The guy is a prize dickhead with a serious God complex. Believe me, I know the type. Give them a badge and they think they’re invincible.’
    â€˜I think so too, but he was the one who . . . well . . . I have a lot to tell you,’ said King.
    â€˜Oh really? Could have fooled me.’
    â€˜Okay, so I decided to lay low in that meeting, but it’s only because I know Ramirez is on top of this one. He nailed it, Joe. Montgomery is guilty. And we have the evidence to prove it.’
    â€˜Ramirez tell you that?’
    â€˜Ramirez found the proof.’
    â€˜Which is . . . ?’
    â€˜Look,’ said Leo, instinctively looking around for fear of being overheard. ‘Now is not the time or the place. We have to arrest Montgomery first. I’ll call you tomorrow, after it’s done. And then, I promise, you’re in 100 per cent.’
    â€˜Lucky me,’ said Joe, hailing a taxi.
    â€˜Can’t hurt your career,’ said King.
    â€˜Like I said, lucky me.’
    â€˜There’s one other thing,’ said King, just as Mannix hailed a metro cab, which slowed in the one-way traffic on Beacon to pull up alongside the pair.
    â€˜You better warn your friend. The media are gonna go ape over this one, and like it or not, he’s involved.’
    â€˜What? Who?’
    â€˜Cavanaugh, he used to be married to Montgomery’s wife.’
    â€˜That was years ago. He’s in Boston, she’s in DC.’
    â€˜Since when do little details like time and distance get in the way of a good story? Cavanaugh’s a local identity. He’s easy fodder.’
    That night David took Sara out to celebrate her joining the firm. They chose a cosy Italian restaurant in the North End’s famous Hanover Street, not far from the brownstone Sara shared with her best friend, Cindy Alverez.
    Ristorante Fiore was known for its authentic Mediterranean cuisine and for a colourful violinist named Roberto who made you believe you were sipping your Barolo on a hillside in Tuscany.
    â€˜You know,’ said Sara, ‘on nights like this you feel like anything is possible. Like right now I’m thinking why don’t you and I drive to Logan and hop a plane for Venice. Have dessert on a gondola