and cops.”
“How then?”
“It’s an underworld thing. You get a rival group to go against them.”
“What happens?”
“Whatever it is, gets settled. Money. Face. Whatever.”
“So the scum take care of their own?”
“Something like that.”
He watched her work the drink down, a frown returning to her lips.
“Look, just call the precinct,” Jack advised. “If you see anything funny, like men loitering on the block, maybe they’ll roll a car by.”
“We filed three police brutality cases with the Civilian Complaint Review Board last year. You think that’ll happen?”
“And if you got pepper spray, anything like that, don’t be afraid to use it.”
“Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“You don’t think I’m just being paranoid, do you?”
“No, but are you?”
She drained the glass, signaled the waitress for a refill.
“We take on difficult cases,” she said distantly. “It’s not like we haven’t received threats before.”
“So what’s different here? ”
“I don’t know. It feels a little more personal. I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
“Well, you have to be careful. Be alert, know who’s around you. It’s still New York City, lady.”
Jack remembered that she was already under stress from her legal work on the Ninety-Nine Cents shooting incident.
“What’s gonna happen with the Ping woman’s lawsuits?” he asked.
“They’re going to work their way through the courts. There’s a lot involved. It’ll be a long time before anyone sees justice,” she replied. Her second drink arrived and she took a quick sip, keeping the glass at her fingertips. “How about you?” she asked, leveling a look at him. “You look tanned, but tired.”
“Yeah, soon as I got back from Hawaii I caught a murder-suicide. The whole family, gone.”
“Was this the Taiwanese family?”
Jack nodded, taking a gulp from the bottle.
“It’s in the papers everywhere.” She shook her head. “How sad. You caught that case, huh?”
Jack nodded stoically, drained his bottle, and ordered a whiskey shot.
After two martinis, Alex slowly became unfocused, making a kamikaze dive into the no-pain zone. Jack downed the whiskey shot. He knew she’d needed to vent and he was glad he’d been available. He glanced at his watch, gave a credit card to the waitress, and put his arm across Alex’s shoulders.
“Thanks again for Hawaii,” he said.
“Least could I do,” she slurred.
Jack grinned. “Time to go, lady.”
The dark streets ran down toward Confucius Towers. Jack considered walking Alex directly to her apartment door, weighing it against the implication of escorting a tipsy, high-strung, and vulnerable woman going through a divorce, who was coming home to an empty apartment for the holidays.
The term she’d used, irreconcilable differences, came to his mind.
He was still considering as they reached the main gates of the Towers.
“Thanks,” Alex said firmly, pushing Jack away gently with her palms. “I’m okay from here.”
“Sure . . . ?” Jack asked. It appeared the night air had revived her.
“Sure. And thanks a lot.”
“For what?” Jack smiled.
“For listening.” She smiled back. “See ya,” she called as she marched toward the high-rise, swaying slightly as she went.
Jack watched until she was inside the guarded lobby, inside the elevator.
Turning away from the Bowery, Jack took a deep swallow of icy air and stepped off the curb between parked cars, looking for a taxi back to Brooklyn. He didn’t see any cabs at the corner. The light turned red.
Behind him, a dark form rolled up, and he recognized the low rumble of the engine even before he saw the black Riviera, running without headlights, boxing him in between the cars. Instinctively, he brushed his gun hand against the grip of the Colt.
He was not surprised when Tat Louie, one-time blood brother and now Ghost Legion dailo, came out of the back of the car.
“Hey, homeboy.” Lucky grinned. “I mean
“How then?”
“It’s an underworld thing. You get a rival group to go against them.”
“What happens?”
“Whatever it is, gets settled. Money. Face. Whatever.”
“So the scum take care of their own?”
“Something like that.”
He watched her work the drink down, a frown returning to her lips.
“Look, just call the precinct,” Jack advised. “If you see anything funny, like men loitering on the block, maybe they’ll roll a car by.”
“We filed three police brutality cases with the Civilian Complaint Review Board last year. You think that’ll happen?”
“And if you got pepper spray, anything like that, don’t be afraid to use it.”
“Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“You don’t think I’m just being paranoid, do you?”
“No, but are you?”
She drained the glass, signaled the waitress for a refill.
“We take on difficult cases,” she said distantly. “It’s not like we haven’t received threats before.”
“So what’s different here? ”
“I don’t know. It feels a little more personal. I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
“Well, you have to be careful. Be alert, know who’s around you. It’s still New York City, lady.”
Jack remembered that she was already under stress from her legal work on the Ninety-Nine Cents shooting incident.
“What’s gonna happen with the Ping woman’s lawsuits?” he asked.
“They’re going to work their way through the courts. There’s a lot involved. It’ll be a long time before anyone sees justice,” she replied. Her second drink arrived and she took a quick sip, keeping the glass at her fingertips. “How about you?” she asked, leveling a look at him. “You look tanned, but tired.”
“Yeah, soon as I got back from Hawaii I caught a murder-suicide. The whole family, gone.”
“Was this the Taiwanese family?”
Jack nodded, taking a gulp from the bottle.
“It’s in the papers everywhere.” She shook her head. “How sad. You caught that case, huh?”
Jack nodded stoically, drained his bottle, and ordered a whiskey shot.
After two martinis, Alex slowly became unfocused, making a kamikaze dive into the no-pain zone. Jack downed the whiskey shot. He knew she’d needed to vent and he was glad he’d been available. He glanced at his watch, gave a credit card to the waitress, and put his arm across Alex’s shoulders.
“Thanks again for Hawaii,” he said.
“Least could I do,” she slurred.
Jack grinned. “Time to go, lady.”
The dark streets ran down toward Confucius Towers. Jack considered walking Alex directly to her apartment door, weighing it against the implication of escorting a tipsy, high-strung, and vulnerable woman going through a divorce, who was coming home to an empty apartment for the holidays.
The term she’d used, irreconcilable differences, came to his mind.
He was still considering as they reached the main gates of the Towers.
“Thanks,” Alex said firmly, pushing Jack away gently with her palms. “I’m okay from here.”
“Sure . . . ?” Jack asked. It appeared the night air had revived her.
“Sure. And thanks a lot.”
“For what?” Jack smiled.
“For listening.” She smiled back. “See ya,” she called as she marched toward the high-rise, swaying slightly as she went.
Jack watched until she was inside the guarded lobby, inside the elevator.
Turning away from the Bowery, Jack took a deep swallow of icy air and stepped off the curb between parked cars, looking for a taxi back to Brooklyn. He didn’t see any cabs at the corner. The light turned red.
Behind him, a dark form rolled up, and he recognized the low rumble of the engine even before he saw the black Riviera, running without headlights, boxing him in between the cars. Instinctively, he brushed his gun hand against the grip of the Colt.
He was not surprised when Tat Louie, one-time blood brother and now Ghost Legion dailo, came out of the back of the car.
“Hey, homeboy.” Lucky grinned. “I mean
Similar Books
