the wrong racket. ”
“ I really can’t picture you in a spandex costume, Mirabelle. ”
A young uniformed officer walks in holding a piece of paper. “ Um, ma’am? ”
“ Yes? ” I ask.
“ There’s a woman on the tip line who’s asking to speak to a detective. She’s pretty insistent. ”
Ugh. “ Fine. Transfer her. ”
The officer walks back into the other room.
“ You want me to take it? ” Mirabelle asks.
The light on my phone blinks to let me know I have a call. “ I got it. ” I pick up the phone. “ Det. Joanna Fallon. ”
“ Are you like in charge of the Alkaline case? ” a young woman asks nervously.
“ Yes, ” I lie. “ You say you have information? Can I get your name and telephone number, please? ”
“ Can’t this be, like, anonymous or something? I don’t want them to know it was me. They’ll, like, kill me. ”
The certainty in her voice with those last words grabs my attention. I signal to Mirabelle, mouthing “ trace the call. ” He hops to. “ That’s fine. What can you tell me? ”
“ It’s my boyfriend. Robbie. I think he’s in trouble. Like major trouble. And I’m like totally freaking out. ”
“ What’s his connection to Alkaline? ”
“ If I tell you, you have to promise you won’t arrest him, okay? ”
“ That’s not up to me, that’s up to the DA. But if his cooperation leads to Alkaline’s capture, the DA will take that into consideration. ” The girl is quiet as she considers this. I’m going to lose her, so I add, “ Miss, if your boyfriend is involved with Alkaline, then he is in grave danger. This is a man who could very easily kill Robbie just so he won’t talk. You as well. ”
She waits a moment before saying, “ I think Robbie is making a driver’s license and passport for Alkaline. I saw him printing one with Alkaline’s picture on it. He doesn’t know I saw it. ”
Yes! Yes! A legitimate break. Finally. I’m so happy, I could cry. I smile at Mirabelle, who has been listening to my every word. “ What’s Robbie’s last name? ”
“ Munoz. I’m not saying anything else. I gotta go. ” She hangs up before I can ask another question. I sigh. “ Crap. ”
Mirabelle listens into his phone for a moment, and then hangs up. “ Call came from a payphone on McFarlane. The Ward. ”
“ Is the name ‘Robbie Munoz’ familiar to you? ” I ask Mirabelle. “ Counterfeiter? ”
“ Munoz? Yeah. We had him in today. He was Luis Rivas’ old apprentice. You know, the documents guy Alkaline offed? Weren’t you the first responder on that one? ”
“ Yeah. ” I get up to retrieve the file on the interview today. Mirabelle helps me with the other box. I think we set a new record for number of interviews in one day with not a damn thing to show for it. Munoz is about a third of the way through. I open the file. Munoz swore up and down he had nothing to do with Alkaline and wouldn’t, even if asked.
“ Why would a guy work with the man who melted his boss? ” Mirabelle asks.
“ A shitload of money? ” I copy down the address, and put the file back. We’re going to the Ward. “ You coming with me? ”
“ Think this is legit? ”
“ Worth a look. ” I grab my coat, clip my gun back on, and rush out with Mirabelle behind me. I briefly consider filling Harry in, but don’t want to wake him if this doesn’t pan out. He’s grumpy without enough sleep.
The streets are near empty as I drive us to my old stomping ground, Diablo’s Ward. It boasts a hooker and junkie on every street corner. Really a wonderful place to raise kids. I made pocket money turning in dirty needles I found in parks to clinics. Fifty cents a pop. Treasured childhood memories.
Every election year some politician swears on his or her own mother that their first priority is cleaning up the Ward. The rotting, splintering, condemned buildings where junkies inject their fixes will come down, replaced with schools and parks. There must be a lot of
“ I really can’t picture you in a spandex costume, Mirabelle. ”
A young uniformed officer walks in holding a piece of paper. “ Um, ma’am? ”
“ Yes? ” I ask.
“ There’s a woman on the tip line who’s asking to speak to a detective. She’s pretty insistent. ”
Ugh. “ Fine. Transfer her. ”
The officer walks back into the other room.
“ You want me to take it? ” Mirabelle asks.
The light on my phone blinks to let me know I have a call. “ I got it. ” I pick up the phone. “ Det. Joanna Fallon. ”
“ Are you like in charge of the Alkaline case? ” a young woman asks nervously.
“ Yes, ” I lie. “ You say you have information? Can I get your name and telephone number, please? ”
“ Can’t this be, like, anonymous or something? I don’t want them to know it was me. They’ll, like, kill me. ”
The certainty in her voice with those last words grabs my attention. I signal to Mirabelle, mouthing “ trace the call. ” He hops to. “ That’s fine. What can you tell me? ”
“ It’s my boyfriend. Robbie. I think he’s in trouble. Like major trouble. And I’m like totally freaking out. ”
“ What’s his connection to Alkaline? ”
“ If I tell you, you have to promise you won’t arrest him, okay? ”
“ That’s not up to me, that’s up to the DA. But if his cooperation leads to Alkaline’s capture, the DA will take that into consideration. ” The girl is quiet as she considers this. I’m going to lose her, so I add, “ Miss, if your boyfriend is involved with Alkaline, then he is in grave danger. This is a man who could very easily kill Robbie just so he won’t talk. You as well. ”
She waits a moment before saying, “ I think Robbie is making a driver’s license and passport for Alkaline. I saw him printing one with Alkaline’s picture on it. He doesn’t know I saw it. ”
Yes! Yes! A legitimate break. Finally. I’m so happy, I could cry. I smile at Mirabelle, who has been listening to my every word. “ What’s Robbie’s last name? ”
“ Munoz. I’m not saying anything else. I gotta go. ” She hangs up before I can ask another question. I sigh. “ Crap. ”
Mirabelle listens into his phone for a moment, and then hangs up. “ Call came from a payphone on McFarlane. The Ward. ”
“ Is the name ‘Robbie Munoz’ familiar to you? ” I ask Mirabelle. “ Counterfeiter? ”
“ Munoz? Yeah. We had him in today. He was Luis Rivas’ old apprentice. You know, the documents guy Alkaline offed? Weren’t you the first responder on that one? ”
“ Yeah. ” I get up to retrieve the file on the interview today. Mirabelle helps me with the other box. I think we set a new record for number of interviews in one day with not a damn thing to show for it. Munoz is about a third of the way through. I open the file. Munoz swore up and down he had nothing to do with Alkaline and wouldn’t, even if asked.
“ Why would a guy work with the man who melted his boss? ” Mirabelle asks.
“ A shitload of money? ” I copy down the address, and put the file back. We’re going to the Ward. “ You coming with me? ”
“ Think this is legit? ”
“ Worth a look. ” I grab my coat, clip my gun back on, and rush out with Mirabelle behind me. I briefly consider filling Harry in, but don’t want to wake him if this doesn’t pan out. He’s grumpy without enough sleep.
The streets are near empty as I drive us to my old stomping ground, Diablo’s Ward. It boasts a hooker and junkie on every street corner. Really a wonderful place to raise kids. I made pocket money turning in dirty needles I found in parks to clinics. Fifty cents a pop. Treasured childhood memories.
Every election year some politician swears on his or her own mother that their first priority is cleaning up the Ward. The rotting, splintering, condemned buildings where junkies inject their fixes will come down, replaced with schools and parks. There must be a lot of
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