The Killer Sex Game (A Frank Boff Mystery) by Nathan Gottlieb Page B

“Before the other cars came, did you see colored lights flashing in your window from the first cop vehicle to arrive?”
    The old man shook his head again. “No lights until the other cops arrived.” He turned back to his door and succeeded in putting his key in the lock this time. As he opened it, he said over his shoulder, “I’m glad they killed the bastard who did this. I don’t trust the courts to get justice.”
    “I couldn’t agree more. Thanks for talking to me.”
    The man quickly disappeared inside.
    Taking out his phone, Boff made a call.
    Detective Damiano.
    She sounded out of breath. He smiled. Either she was exercising, or….
    “It’s Boff. Is this a bad time?”
    Yes , it fucking is! Whatcha want?
    “Have you talked to the two cops who shot the killer of Danny’s girlfriend yet?”
    No. There’s no rush. This’s an open and shut case. Now I’m hanging up.
    “Wait! Would I interrupt you from whatever you were doing—sounded like exercising—if it wasn’t important?”
    He heard her sigh, and then she apparently cupped the receiver to muffle sound, but he could make out the words Diane and sorry before she came back on the line.
    What’s the deal here? Why is the Great Boffer nosing around in an open and shut?
    “I’m curious how the cops happened to be so close by. Do me a favor. Find out what their patrol perimeters were tonight. Also, I’d like to know what they said when they phoned in. And finally, whether they used their siren and lamps in responding.”
    He heard her sigh again, then, And what do I get in exchange?
    “I did a financial workup on Rafael. Apparently he lived an active social life. Without his wife. The kind of social life where an arrogant boxer with a bad temper might’ve gotten in trouble. I’ll fill you in tomorrow. Go back to whatever you were doing. Tell Diane I’m sorry.”
    He hung up before she could begin swearing at him. 

Chapter 18
     
    Boff and Damiano met for lunch the next day at a pizzeria on Prospect Place. He ordered a ten-inch pie loaded with extra cheese, sausage, onions, and bacon, while she went for handmade fried zucchini sticks.
    After shaking a generous amount of red pepper flakes over his pie, he picked up a slice, bit into it, and then said, “I hope I didn’t cause any domestic trouble last night.”
    “Screw you. You’re such an asshole. Whatcha got for me?”
    “First,” he said through a mouthful, “some questions. Let’s say you’re in your police car and you hear a shot being fired. What do you do?”
    “Call in a ten-ten, ask for backup, and then hit the siren and lamps. Standard procedure. Why?”
    “Did you find out what the cops said when they called in?”
    “Yeah. Then I talked to them. They admitted that they didn’t call for backup. They said they were too worried the shooter would get away. The first time they phoned in was to report the rape and murder and the dead assailant.”
    “What about the siren and lamps?”
    “They said they turned ’em both on.”
    “Well, the people in the building adjacent to the crime scene said they never heard their siren or saw their lights. The first time they knew something was wrong in the alley was when they heard a string of gun shots. And , the first time they heard sirens and saw the lamps flashing in their windows was when backup arrived.”
    Damiano pointed a half-eaten zucchini stick at him. “Come on, Boff. You know witnesses are routinely unreliable.” She finished the zucchini and picked up another stick. “I’ll take the word of my cops.”
    “What’re the names of these hero cops?”
    “Pearson and Janovich. Boff, where are the hell are you going with this? There was a rape and a murder. We killed the mutt who did it. Case closed.”
    “Well, I have a theory that trumps your take on the crime. Finish your zucchini stick so you don’t choke on it when I tell you.”
    Instead of eating the zucchini, she put it down and frowned. “Okay, let’s hear