believe.”
“Oh, crap!” Gill spat out. “What the fuck do you use for brains?”
“Now, listen, Burke . . .”
“If you take that attitude, go screw yourself. You got an organization with an active hand inside of every big city government in the country who can call the shots in a political election or into somebody’s head and you find it hard to believe. There’s a gang war going on, narcotics turning citizens into corpses, businesses going bust because they can’t keep up with the planned thievery and I have to listen to that shit.”
Bill Long held up his hand. “Okay, tiger. I know the score. We’ve only put these out on a limited basis and it shouldn’t be too hard to run down. Why the sweat?”
“This is an old hand showing,” Gill told him. “It’s not going to be that easy.”
“So?”
“I want to know how old that hand is.”
Lederer didn’t like what he was getting at and frowned.
“Like a couple of years, maybe?”
“At least,” Gill agreed.
“I hope you’re not wasting a lot of time,” the captain said.
“No time’s being wasted. You always have to start at the beginning.”
“Mr. Burke . . .”
Gill looked over at Lederer. “What?”
“Our office has very efficiently and very systematically compiled a great deal of information on the syndicate operation in the past few weeks. It has done so without any help from you at all, in view of the fact that you were specifically recruited to add your supposed store of knowledge to our own. So far you have contributed nothing except this.” He tapped the picture with a forefinger, his face grim and accusing.
Burke’s face held no expression at all. It was the kind of face too many people had wondered about when they lay there hurting, and a lot of others were forced to talk to whether it was safe or not because they couldn’t read what was behind it. After a moment, Gill said, “Let me know when all that efficiency turns into evidence and convictions, Mr. Lederer. When you get that leak plugged up maybe I’ll add to your information. Meanwhile I’ll just work my end of the deal we made.”
Lederer didn’t feel capable of arguing against the face that stared at him. He never did feel comfortable inside a police building. There was something about the cold colors, the odd smell and indescribable mien of men who chose to work in an area of crime that reminded him of when he was a college freshman. But he was fortunate then that he had had a rich and influential family. He got up and took his coat off the rack, shook hands with the captain, barely nodded at Gill Burke and left.
“You sure like to rub that guy,” Long said.
“If he’s lucky, in ten years he’ll get some sense. What about that picture?”
“That isn’t the only incident.”
“Any leads?”
“No, but a few ideas.”
“How about the guy in the photo?”
“Our expert in the lab is willing to bet the whole thing was a disguise. There’s even a chance he knew the camera was there and let the picture get taken to throw us off.”
“Clever,” Gill said.
“Not really,” Long told him. “It was pretty sophisticated equipment and the next shot in the sequence took an automatic magnified shot that brought out some detail we might be able to focus on. Scientific advancement is getting to be pretty damn incredible.”
“Legwork is a lot better.”
“Only when you have the time, buddy. Right now we haven’t much of it. This morning we found a body in the middle of Prospect Park that had been worked over until it was a disgusting mess, but originally it could have fit the description of that man in the photo.”
“Got a make on him?”
“No trouble at all. He was a former con who had gone straight. For six years he had been making furniture, then switched over to selling upholstery fabrics.” Long picked up the photo and looked at it again. “This makes a little sense now.”
“How?”
“The odd thing about the corpse was its right
“Oh, crap!” Gill spat out. “What the fuck do you use for brains?”
“Now, listen, Burke . . .”
“If you take that attitude, go screw yourself. You got an organization with an active hand inside of every big city government in the country who can call the shots in a political election or into somebody’s head and you find it hard to believe. There’s a gang war going on, narcotics turning citizens into corpses, businesses going bust because they can’t keep up with the planned thievery and I have to listen to that shit.”
Bill Long held up his hand. “Okay, tiger. I know the score. We’ve only put these out on a limited basis and it shouldn’t be too hard to run down. Why the sweat?”
“This is an old hand showing,” Gill told him. “It’s not going to be that easy.”
“So?”
“I want to know how old that hand is.”
Lederer didn’t like what he was getting at and frowned.
“Like a couple of years, maybe?”
“At least,” Gill agreed.
“I hope you’re not wasting a lot of time,” the captain said.
“No time’s being wasted. You always have to start at the beginning.”
“Mr. Burke . . .”
Gill looked over at Lederer. “What?”
“Our office has very efficiently and very systematically compiled a great deal of information on the syndicate operation in the past few weeks. It has done so without any help from you at all, in view of the fact that you were specifically recruited to add your supposed store of knowledge to our own. So far you have contributed nothing except this.” He tapped the picture with a forefinger, his face grim and accusing.
Burke’s face held no expression at all. It was the kind of face too many people had wondered about when they lay there hurting, and a lot of others were forced to talk to whether it was safe or not because they couldn’t read what was behind it. After a moment, Gill said, “Let me know when all that efficiency turns into evidence and convictions, Mr. Lederer. When you get that leak plugged up maybe I’ll add to your information. Meanwhile I’ll just work my end of the deal we made.”
Lederer didn’t feel capable of arguing against the face that stared at him. He never did feel comfortable inside a police building. There was something about the cold colors, the odd smell and indescribable mien of men who chose to work in an area of crime that reminded him of when he was a college freshman. But he was fortunate then that he had had a rich and influential family. He got up and took his coat off the rack, shook hands with the captain, barely nodded at Gill Burke and left.
“You sure like to rub that guy,” Long said.
“If he’s lucky, in ten years he’ll get some sense. What about that picture?”
“That isn’t the only incident.”
“Any leads?”
“No, but a few ideas.”
“How about the guy in the photo?”
“Our expert in the lab is willing to bet the whole thing was a disguise. There’s even a chance he knew the camera was there and let the picture get taken to throw us off.”
“Clever,” Gill said.
“Not really,” Long told him. “It was pretty sophisticated equipment and the next shot in the sequence took an automatic magnified shot that brought out some detail we might be able to focus on. Scientific advancement is getting to be pretty damn incredible.”
“Legwork is a lot better.”
“Only when you have the time, buddy. Right now we haven’t much of it. This morning we found a body in the middle of Prospect Park that had been worked over until it was a disgusting mess, but originally it could have fit the description of that man in the photo.”
“Got a make on him?”
“No trouble at all. He was a former con who had gone straight. For six years he had been making furniture, then switched over to selling upholstery fabrics.” Long picked up the photo and looked at it again. “This makes a little sense now.”
“How?”
“The odd thing about the corpse was its right
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