Detective Riker’s head lolled on the back of the velvet theater seat. He was staring up at the chandelier. A million sharp crystal shards dangled from a giant ball of light, and he had the sense that it might fall on him at any moment.
The fear of falling objects was common in the hazard zone of Manhattan, where pedestrians were routinely flattened by crumbling gargoyles and cornices. This lottery of city life brought out the sporting nature of New Yorkers, who kept score on direct hits – disparaging near misses and nonfatal glancing blows.
This chandelier was on much too grand a scale for a theater with only three hundred seats. Piss-elegant was the term he was looking for. Though, according to Nick Prado’s press release, it was an exact replica of the original fixture from Faustine’s.
Oliver Tree had spent a fortune re-creating his grandmother’s theater. The grand opening was three days away, and the construction work was not yet complete. The air had the smell of fresh plaster and paint.
Riker looked at his watch.
Where is she?
If Mallory didn’t arrive soon, she would miss the main event, the bidding on the platform.
He looked up at the stage, where men and women were inspecting long tables decked with magic props. During the intermission, the auctioneer had left his podium on top of the platform. The man from Hollywood was favored to make the high bid, and then Mallory’s precious evidence would be on its way to the West Coast. He wondered if the auctioneer had been nervous standing in Oliver Tree’s place and looking down at the crossbows.
Nick Prado gave Riker a friendly wave as he walked down a short flight of steps at the side of the stage. For the past hour, this man had been exuding professional charm and warmth, presuming the role of a dear and close friend. But Riker preferred the distance of a suspicious acquaintance. He disliked Prado’s wide smile that said to everyone he met, Love me. Ah, but then how could you not?
Now the man was coming toward him, swaggering up the long green carpet. And green was the color of the theater seats, the walls and their high balconies, and the long drapes gathered in golden ropes at the sides of the stage.
Prado hunkered down by Riker’s aisle seat. „Well, what do you think of the place?“
„So this is what the inside of an avocado looks like.“
„You can blame the decor on Oliver’s grandmother. Actually, it’s Federal green, the color of American money. Faustine loved tourists. That’s why she spelled out the name in English. She wasn’t sure Americans were bright enough to work out Theatre de Magie.“
Emile St. John stood at the edge of the stage, hailing his friend. Prado excused himself and walked back toward the auction crowd.
When Riker had gotten past his fear of the chandelier, he admired the ceiling fresco of characters from famous plays. None of the actors’ roles were detailed in Prado’s handout sheet, and the only one Riker could identify was the long-nosed figure of Cyrano de Bergerac. This was an obvious departure from the original painting, circa 1900. But was it a joke or a tribute? Apparently, decades had passed since the old man and the younger one had met, for Cyrano was portrayed as a teenage Charles Butler.
Riker left his chair and turned to face the lobby door.
Where is she?
Though Mallory carried a pocket watch, he knew she only consulted it for show, a prop of normalcy. She was guided by an interior clock wired directly into her brain, and she was never, never late.
He walked down the center aisle and climbed the steps leading up to the stage. When he was past the lengths of heavy green curtains, he looked up again.
Oh, more things to fall on him.
Space expanded upward for twenty feet beyond the curtain valance. A narrow suspension bridge spanned the length of the stage. This catwalk of wooden planks was none too stable, swaying high in the air as a workman stood at its center, testing the rigging that held massive backdrop screens in place over Riker’s head.
He turned his eyes down to the less hazardous display tables and made a rough head count of thirty bidders examining the remaining auction items. A small group was clustered around the base of the platform, and a lone magician stood behind the auctioneer’s podium. Franny Futura was the new target of the crossbow pistols.
For the second time this afternoon, Riker stopped by each of the pedestals and checked the weapon magazines to be sure they were empty of arrows. And still it made him edgy to see the old man standing in the crosshairs of four pistol sights.
The white-haired magician walked to the edge of the platform and caught the eye of Nick Prado on the stage below. Futura made a rolling motion with his hand. „Nick, come up here. Come up and look at this.“
Prado shook his head and turned away.
„Still afraid of heights?“ Futura said this with great glee, as if scoring a point. „It’s only nine feet. Not that much of a – “ His words faltered as Prado’s body went rigid, then slowly turned back toward the platform.
„Franny, may I remind you that I live in a penthouse – a very high penthouse?“
Riker counted a double-point score in Prado’s favor. A fear of heights did not square with an apartment in the sky. And Futura did not have the means to live as high as Prado did, not according to Riker’s credit reports on both men. Futura’s face took on the humble aspect of a timid man, the poorer man, a mere ground-dweller. He moved back from the edge with some fear of his own. Perhaps he was seeing the crossbows for the first time and feeling vulnerable. Cautiously, he made his way down the platform staircase.
Prado was staring at the lobby doors and smiling.
Riker looked over his shoulder to see his partner walking down the aisle. Mallory’s eyes took in the chandelier and the painted ceiling, then traveled over the green walls and the balconies. She had the look of – what? Recognition? Had she been here before? No, that was not quite it, for she was obviously surprised by her surroundings.
As she climbed the short flight of stairs stage left, Riker made an exaggerated point of looking at his wristwatch, relishing this rare opportunity to rag her about punctuality, to inform her that she was tardy by a full forty minutes. This chance might never come again.
But now a familiar giant in a three-piece suit was running down the center aisle toward the stage, and Mallory called out to him, „You’re late, Charles.“
Riker ceased to look at his watch.
„Sorry.“ Charles Butler paused by the front row to catch his breath. „I was down in the basement and lost track of the time. Thought I’d have another look at the posts on the platform. You know, there is a fracture line – “
„So now you believe me.“ Mallory turned away from him. „Riker, who bid on the platform?“
„Nobody yet. The auctioneer called a time-out.“
Charles was staring at the ceiling. He had found himself in the painting of Cyrano. Yet he was smiling, playing the good sport, as he walked up the stairs toward Mallory. „You want me to have a look inside the platform now?“
„You can’t. It’s sealed.“ Riker pointed to the security guard posted by the platform staircase. „The door stays shut till the lawyer has the cash in his fat little hand. I talked to the movie producer. He’s a sure thing for the high bid. After the auction, he’ll let us have a quick look inside before he ships it out to the Coast.“
„Not good enough,“ said Mallory. „That platform’s not going anywhere till I have time to – “
„Hold it.“ Riker put on his let’s-be-reasonable face. „You can’t impound it, and there’s no search warrant. We don’t even have an open homicide case. The new owner can ship it to the moon if he wants to.“
Charles was distracted by a table of magic props. He read one of the authentication tags, then held up a round silver object that Riker had taken for a covered cake plate. „This dove load is over a hundred years old.“
Mallory drifted toward another table, finding the firearms more interesting. She glanced at each tag as she made her way down the length of the table.
Shopping?
As if she didn’t own enough weapons. But none of these should appeal to her. What good was a gun that could not fire bullets? Riker had already checked them against the auction list in the will and read the tags identifying their different functions. The old muskets only fired smoke. One Luger could be loaded with lines and darts, and several revolvers looked as deadly as anything Mallory carried, but these starter pistols were just for noise.
Franny Futura was standing at the foot of the platform staircase when Mallory approached him from behind. „I had dinner with Malakhai last night,“ she said. „I know what happened at Faustine’s.“
Futura turned around to face her, his hands opening and closing in nervous fidgets. „I don’t – “
„It’s all right, Franny.“ Nick Prado appeared at the foot of the staircase and smiled at Mallory. „Emile and I had brunch with Malakhai this morning. I wonder why he didn’t mention that conversation.“
„Well, his memory isn’t what it used to be.“ There was an unmistakable subtext in Mallory’s voice, but Riker could not follow its meaning. She was clearly disappointed in Prado’s response when the man shrugged it off.
As she moved closer to Futura, the man’s head was backing away, comically attenuating his skinny neck, while his feet remained rooted to the floor.
„Malakhai didn’t tell me how you got rid of the body,“ said Mallory. „What did you do with her?“
Riker felt sorry for Mallory’s target, but he knew she was onto something. Futura’s mouth hung open – stunned speechless.
Nick Prado answered for him. „We buried her in the cellar.“
Futura nodded with a sickly smile. „It’s not as if we killed the old lady.“
It was Mallory’s turn to be surprised. „Old lady?“
Prado grinned to show her every tooth he owned. „Oliver’s grandmother, Faustine. I can assure you she died of natural causes.“
„And that’s why you hid the body in the cellar?“ Mallory waved one hand in the air. „Of course.“
„Well, we did neglect to inform the authorities when she died.“ Prado’s tone was casual, as if covert burials were an everyday thing with him. „We needed her pension money to pay rent on the theater. She was Oliver’s grandmother. If he didn’t mind, why should you?“
„Fine, I don’t care if you had the old woman stuffed and mounted. Let’s talk about Louisa.“ She was speaking only to Futura, and now the man got control of his feet and stepped back. Mallory moved a step closer. „I’m betting you were the informer, the one who turned her in.“
Riker shook his head. This bluff was miles too obvious, not Mallory’s style at all.
„I wouldn’t give odds on that bet.“ Nick Prado stepped between Mallory and Futura. His smile was easy and affable. „You’d have a fifty-fifty chance of being right. At least half of Paris was collaborating with the Germans.“
Riker repressed a smile. Nick Prado had just confirmed Louisa Malakhai’s status in the scheme of war. Mallory had pegged this man right, the ultimate egoist. He would never miss a chance to play a fast round of one-upmanship.
„That’s right,“ she said. „But the Germans didn’t kill her.“ Mallory was still looking at Futura, or what she could see of him behind Prado’s back.
Then Futura straightened his spine and held his head a bit higher, braver now that another man had joined them. The larger, more placid Emile St. John rested one massive hand on Futura’s slight shoulder, playing the role of protector.
Riker felt an odd affinity for St. John, who walked about in a portable atmosphere of tranquillity, affecting everyone in his sphere – except Mallory.
Of course. St. John shared this trait with her late foster father. Did Mallory see it, too?
„Louisa’s death was an accident,“ said St. John. „It wasn’t – “
„You mean the magic-bullet trick?“ Mallory shifted her position to one side of Nick Prado. And now she had a clear bead on Futura again. „The gun trick adapted for the crossbow? No, an arrow didn’t kill Louisa.“
Futura was slightly off balance, not cocking his head in his habitual startled-bird fashion, but leaning his whole body to one side, and even St. John had been caught off guard. But not Prado, whose smile never wavered.
Mallory skirted around Prado to get to Futura. „Did Louisa know she was going to be shot for real? Did she know Malakhai was using a loaded crossbow?“
Futura took this as a physical jolt. His head moved somewhere between a wobble and a shake of denial. „If she knew, she was a wonderful actress.“ He looked up at St. John. „Remember her face, Emile? She was stunned.“
Riker decided this might be a bad time to remind Mallory that she had been forbidden to conduct interviews. A loud squeal of electronic feedback called his attention up to the smaller stage on top of the platform.
Oliver Tree’s attorney was standing behind the microphone on the auctioneer’s podium. „May I have your attention?“ The bald head was shining with reflections from a bank of overhead lights. Though he must weigh three hundred pounds, no one would call him a fat man; money had cured that glaring flaw. An expanse of dark suit material elegantly draped his wide girth with the genius lines of Armani. „We’ll end the intermission in a few minutes. If you would all take your seats?“
Mallory walked to the foot of the platform staircase and held up her gold shield. „First I want a look at the room inside this box. Are you the executor? Atkins?“
„Ye-e-es.“ Only a man with a Park Avenue address could put that many syllables into a three-letter word. And by his attitude, it was clear that she should address him as Mr. Atkins. The attorney walked down the short flight of stairs on tiny mincing patent-leather feet so incongruous with his mass. Waving her identification away with one white hand of glittering jewels, he made a point of not meeting her eyes. He addressed the air above her head: „I know who you are. You’re the balloon shooter. I’ve already spoken with the other detective – Riker, was it?“
The lawyer’s tone was clear – Riker should substitute the word riffraff for his own name.
Atkins wagged one finger at Mallory in the gesture of admonishing a child. „No one but the buyer may inspect the platform’s interior room.“
„This is police business,“ said Mallory – substitute the words, You prick.
„Do you have a warrant? No? I didn’t think so.“ The lawyer turned around, and in the manner of a large dark ship leaving the harbor, he grandly sailed across the stage.
She called after him, „Atkins? This platform ties into a homicide.“
And now she had everyone’s attention. Thirty heads were turning in her direction.
The attorney was smiling when he turned around. „But no warrant?“ He sailed back across the stage and docked in front of her, this time deigning to look into her eyes. „However, I’m sure your little comment did raise the bidding considerably. You want to make a scene? Go ahead. Rant and rave about murder, and I might cut you in for a small percentage.“
„Sounds like a bribe to me, Counselor.“
Atkins snorted and covered his mouth with one hand. His fingers sparkled with the large gemstones of four rings. „You’ll have to do better than that, Detective.“ His tone implied that this was obscene wealth and power speaking, so she would have to do a lot better.
Mallory pointed at the crossbows. „Do you have a license to sell firearms?“ She smiled. „No? Then I’ll have to stop the auction.“
The attorney only raised one eyebrow. „Don’t even repeat that threat. Oliver Tree had a special permit signed by the mayor. Executor’s privilege extends that license to the disposal of his effects.“
Riker thought that had the sound of a lawyer’s bluff, but Mallory, a consummate card shark, showed no signs of calling him on it. She seemed distracted by the table display of prop weapons. „I’ve seen the permit, Atkins. I know it doesn’t cover the sale of guns.“
„These are all harmless props, and you know it.“
„Maybe not. I know Oliver Tree’s nephew had access to this collection. One of these guns could be a murder weapon. If you can’t produce the license – “
„Oliver Tree was killed by arrows. Odd that I should have to point out this simple fact to a police officer.“
„Wrong investigation, Atkins.“ Her voice was so low, Riker had to crane his neck to hear the words. „I have a dead drug dealer in the East Village.“
What? Well, actually, that was a safe lie. There was always a dead dealer somewhere downtown. But now that the Dominican drug gangs had completely finished murdering the American gangs, she would be lucky to get a fresh corpse.
„The nephew is also your client, Atkins. I know you bailed the kid out on his last drug arrest.“ Now she spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. „When a cop wants to see your gun seller’s license, you don’t get to argue the point. Are there any other simple laws I can explain to you – before I shut down this auction?“
Riker smiled. He knew the big money in this room was returning to Hollywood on the morning plane. Atkins’s cut would be smaller if the auction was delayed. Mallory had scored a blow to the lawyer’s wallet, the equivalent of a groin shot on a human being.
„Let’s read the tags, shall we?“ The attorney lifted a revolver from the table, brandishing it in a careless manner. Apparently, he had never handled a gun before – or perhaps he had, for he was pointing the muzzle at Mallory’s face as he checked the tag. „All harmless props. See here?“ He held up the tag. „This one only fires smoke. Not the least bit deadly.“
„He’s right, Mallory.“ Nick Prado was looking over the attorney’s shoulder. „Lots of smoke and bang, but no bullets. That one won’t even hold ammunition. The mechanism runs through the barrel and – “
His words ended abruptly when he met Mallory’s eyes. In that moment, they formed an odd alliance. Taking his cue from her, Prado stepped back and bestowed an evil grin on the attorney.
Mallory looked down at another revolver on the table, bending low to examine it closely. It was tagged as a starter’s pistol. „This one looks real to me, but I’m only a cop. What do I know? I think I’ll just stop the auction until I get a decision from the DA’s office. It shouldn’t take more than a few days.“ As an afterthought, she said, „Or I could have a look inside the platform.“
„I’m not buying it, Detective.“ The lawyer had lost his patronizing smile. „Look around you. I have a room full of magicians, experts. They can tell you these guns are props. Look at the damn tags.“ Now a hint of menace came stealing into the man’s voice as he lowered his volume. „But you were right about Oliver’s nephew. The boy is my client.“ He advanced on her, perhaps believing that she would retreat. She did not. And now he was in the awkward position of stepping back a pace and yielding ground to Mallory.
He sighed and gave her a long and pitying look. „Considering what you did to Richard – hurtling him to the pavement with utter disregard for his person.“ He sighed. „Well, I think the boy might sue for false arrest and police brutality. When the district attorney finds out how easily that lawsuit could’ve been avoided, you’ll lose your job, won’t you, Detective?“
The crowd of bidders gathered close around them in the spirit of spectators at a street fight.
„Sounds like a threat,“ said Mallory. „And in front of witnesses, too.“
„Oh, run along, Detective – before you become a laughingstock again. Go shoot another balloon.“ The lawyer turned to the crowd for their support, but he met with disapproval on every face. Apparently, they liked Mallory best, perhaps in the false assumption that she was the underdog in this exchange.
„There’s a faster way to check out the guns.“ She picked up a revolver from one table and reached for a deck of cards from another display.
Riker stood behind Atkins’s back, shaking his head and mouthing the word no. She turned away from him. He moved quickly around the attorney and reached out to her.
Too late.
She threw the deck high in the air and fired the gun into the falling shower of playing cards. The shot banged out in an explosion.
The attorney’s face was pale. His abstract world of lawbooks and contracts was far removed from the extreme violence of gunshots.
Mallory leaned down and picked up a card from the floor. She turned to the lawyer and looked at him through the round hole in its center. „Real bullets.“
And at this vulnerable moment, when the lawyer was still slack-jawed with shock – no, call it horror – she barked the order. „Get me the damn paperwork on this gun! I want to see your license! I want – “
Her voice was drowned out by loud applause and whistles from the gallery of bidders. They cheered her as the clear winner. But Riker noticed the lawyer was rallying and staring at Mallory with solid hatred.
„Maybe we can forgive paperwork on both sides?“ The attorney smiled somewhat insincerely. „Feel free to look around inside the platform. Just get it over with.“ He walked back through the crowd of onlookers. „Gentlemen, ladies, if you’ll just take your seats and wait a few more minutes.“
Most of the gathering retreated to the theater seats in the front row. Charles Butler remained on the stage close to Mallory, and his voice had an unfamiliar icy quality. „May I see that gun for a moment?“ Not waiting for her to surrender the weapon, Charles took it away from her – winning new respect from Riker.
She was about to protest when Riker pulled her off to one side of the stage, and he did not handle her gently. „Mallory, are you nuts?“ He held her by one arm, gripping it tight enough to leave bruises; he was that angry. „How could you fire a gun in a place like this? That bullet could’ve ricocheted off a – “
„Are you going to rat me out to Lieutenant Coffey?“
„What? Listen to me! You can’t – “
„I can’t be trusted with guns?“ She shook his hand off with a jerk of her arm. „Go on – report back to Coffey. Tell him all about my little card trick – and then he’ll fire me. That’s what you want, isn’t it? You figure it’s better I lose my job than get killed for a psycho cop.“ She poked a long red fingernail into his chest and put some force behind it. „Right?“
He turned his face upward and stared at the workman on the catwalk high above them. Oh, sweet Jesus. The man in coveralls had been directly in the path of her bullet. Riker came all undone as Mallory looked up at the man and smiled. This innocent bystander had not been planned on, but she clearly regarded him as an unexpected bonus.
Riker raked one hand through his graying hair. He wanted a drink so badly. „If it was only the balloon. But first you pulled that stupid stunt with the rat, and now – “
„I never waste a bullet, Riker.“
„Don’t lie – not to me. Four cops saw you shoot that rat off the candy machine.“
„Riker, if I’m such a sick puppy, how come it’s so easy for me to read all you nice, normal people? You think I’m a gun-happy nutcase? Fine. Go to Coffey. Go now. Run!“ She stood back and regarded him as if he were a stranger, and not a man who had watched her grow up. „Don’t you get it, Riker? You’re the one I can’t trust. How do you like that feeling? I’m your partner, and I can’t trust you.“
„I don’t deserve that.“
„You’re not working this case with me. You’re only around to watch me. And I know why. Good housekeeping? Isn’t that what you call it when a nutcase cop goes down? I’ll just have to hope I’m never in a bad spot where I need you for backup.“
She stalked away from him, heading for the platform, but Charles Butler blocked her path. He was holding out his hand. Finally, reluctantly, she crossed his palm with the mutilated playing card.
Charles held up the gun he had taken from Mallory. „It really is a prop, Riker. Lots of noise, but no bullets.“
„She put a hole in the – “
„Not a bullet hole.“ Charles looked down at the mutilated playing card in his hand. „This one was made by a shaft of metal. Stainless steel, to be precise. Let’s narrow it down further, shall we?“ He held the card closer to his eyes as if divining more information from it, saying dryly, „Obviously a barbecue skewer from the kitchen drawer of Rabbi Kaplan.“ He flipped the card over. „And this pattern on the back? It doesn’t match the cards on the floor.“
Charles turned on Mallory and pointed an accusing finger at the cashmere showing through her open trench coat. „You were wearing that blazer the night of the poker game. That’s how you just happened to have a card in your pocket – a card with a bole in it. You palmed it during the game.“
Mallory was not the least bit contrite. „Well, the spook was cheating, wasn’t she? Just open the platform and check it out, okay, Charles?“
„But to palm a card? Mallory, I’m shocked.“
And so was Riker. He stood with both hands jammed into his pockets so his partner would not see them balling into fists.
Charles lightly touched the wood at the center of the platform wall, and the compartment door opened. He looked inside and quickly pulled back from the stench.
A human arm extended slowly and hit the floor of the stage with a soft thud of dead white flesh on wood. A sleeve was rolled to the elbow. And now the upper torso unfolded and tumbled out the door. There was an arrow in the ruffled breast of a formal dress shirt, but no blood at the wound site. This might have been a staged illusion – if not for the very real hole in the chest. Riker had never seen the crossbow shooter without his top hat. The carrot-red hair was wild with a boy’s cowlicks. The white face was contorted and conflicted between pain and the astonishment of dying.
The gallery of bidders was stealing back to the stage, all but tiptoeing toward the platform.
„That’s Richard – Oliver’s nephew,“ said Nick Prado. His face was composed, and his voice was calm.
Riker decided that Prado must be familiar with the smell of dead bodies, standing his ground while the rest of the civilians were visibly shaken and driven backward by nausea. The corpse had emptied its bowels in the postmortem relaxation of muscles. The containment of the odor spoke well for the seal on the platform door.
Franny Futura had retreated to the edge of the stage. His formerly ruddy cheeks had lost all their color. Emile St. John showed no emotion whatever, and Riker wondered what it would take to unhinge that man.
Mallory knelt down beside the corpse and touched it. The limp body moved easily under her probing hand. The rigidity of rigor mortis had run its course and passed off.
„Couple of days dead.“ She wore a faint smile when she looked up at Riker. „And now I’ve got a real live game.“
Tack Coffey looked down at the paperwork on his desk, a police report on the death of Crossbow Man, a.k.a. Richard Tree. „So when do we get the medical examiner’s report?“
„First thing tomorrow,“ said Riker. „Dr. Slope’s doing it himself. And she got Heller to do the forensic workup on the platform. Looks like the kid had a good instinct.“
Coffey pushed Riker’s report to one side of his desk. „Slope’s doing a full autopsy?“
„Yeah, all the trimmings,“ said Riker. „Mallory got real lucky with that arrow sticking out of the body. It’s enough to impound the platform. And now she has an open homicide case. Damn good police work.“
„I never had any problem with her work,“ said Coffey. „It’s her state of mind that worries me. Are you keeping an eye on her?“
Riker shook his head. „No, I don’t do midget duty anymore. She’s a grown-up now.“
„She’s dangerous.“
„Is she?“ Riker lit a cigarette, despite the absence of an ashtray. „Maybe you’re just buying into your own lecture, Lieutenant. Incidentally, that didn’t scare her one bit. But it was a good try.“
„It scared you, Riker. You know what she is.“
„Yeah, she’s my partner, and she’s good. You never saw that much talent in a cop – except maybe her old man. But, you know something? I think she’s gonna be better than Markowitz in his prime. Well, you took your best shot, and it didn’t work.“ He stood up and buttoned his coat. „Fun’s over, Lieutenant. Give me Mallory’s revolver. I’ll see that she gets it. Now that the kid’s back on the job – “
„She has enough guns to play with. She can make do with her.38. I’m keeping the cannon for a while.“ He smiled. „Tell her I’m waiting on a recovered bullet from the dead balloon puppy, so we can match – “
„Bullshit,“ said Riker. „Nobody’s looking for that bullet. You got no call to keep her gun. You ivant her to think you don’t trust her?“
Coffey was incredulous. „I never trusted her. That’s news to Mallory? And the balloon isn’t a dead issue. There’s more fallout.“ He flicked a remote control at the small television in the corner of the office. The VCR played a repeat performance of Officer Henderson falling off his rearing horse as the giant balloon descended from the sky. „This tape is Henderson’s evidence in a lawsuit against the city.“
„Lawsuit? The idiot fell off his horse. Who knew he was such a lousy rider?“
„He’s claiming the horse wouldn’t have dumped him if Mallory hadn’t created a dangerous, life-threatening situation. It’s a ten-million-dollar lawsuit, Riker. And it all hangs on whether or not Henderson can prove she shot the big puppy.“
„Well, screw the job. I’m gonna get me a horse and a lawyer,“ said Riker.
„It gets worse. Henderson claims the city knowingly hired a dangerous psychopath. Now his terminology is a little off – but real close.“ Coffey rewound the tape and played it again. „I do like watching that little bastard fall on his ass. He broke his tailbone.“
„I hope it hurts like hell.“
Coffey switched off the set. „Mallory can go on working the case, but she’s not officially on the job. Maybe in a week or two, the city will settle the lawsuit to make it go away. But Mallory has to learn – “
„Oh, screw the balloon. She says she didn’t pull her gun in that crowd. I – “
„Yeah, right. She didn’t do it. I’d say that was a good joke, Riker. But I know Mallory has no sense of humor. And she didn’t deny shooting off her gun in the station house, did she? A stupid cowboy shot, and for what? A damn rat. Burns me up every time I think about it.“
„I don’t think – “
„It’s not up to you, Riker. It doesn’t actually matter what you think.“
„Well, yeah, it does. But I’m sorry you feel that way, Lieutenant.“ Riker put his gold shield on the corner of the desk. „Give me the kid’s gun, or I leave my badge behind when I walk out the door.“
„Riker, don’t take that personally. It’s the perception of the thing that matters. I have to worry about what those cops were thinking when she shot the – “
„Those uniforms are all big boys. They’ve all lost pet hamsters. I’m sure they’ll get over the rat.“ Riker pushed his gold shield across the desk. „Lieutenant, I never bluff. I never will. It’s a religion with me.“
As the weary detective emerged from the stairwell, carrying a paper sack heavy with the weight of Mallory’s largest gun, the desk sergeant called out, „Hey, Riker. You got a minute?“
„Yeah, sure.“
Riker ambled over and leaned one crooked elbow on the edge of the raised desk. It was more like a grandiose pulpit, and that fit well with the desk sergeant’s job of meting out rare blessings and more common penance to his patrolmen.
„What’s the problem, Harry?“
Sergeant Harry Bell was a beefy, red-nosed man in uniform. He and Riker had gone gray together over the past thirty-five years on the job. „You gonna see your partner before she gets back from vacation?“
„Yeah.“
„Well, you tell her she called it right on Oscar the Wonder Rat.“ Sergeant Bell leaned over the desk and handed down a fistful of currency in tens, fives and singles. „That’s four cops, ten apiece. We’re all square with Mallory.“
„What?“ Riker stared at the money in his hand. „You guys made bets on a freaking rat?“
„Riker, I told you about the rat. When you – “
„No, Harry. You only said she shot it.“
„Well, she said the rat was sick. That was the bet.“
„Talk to me, Harry. ‘Cause Mallory never talks to me anymore, and I get real lonely. What’s all this crap about a sick rat?“
„You’ve seen him. Fastest thing on four feet, right?“ Harry Bell made a quick darting motion with his hand. „But the other night, Oscar was movin’ real slow, tame as a stoned kitten. He was just sittin’ there on top of the candy machine watchin’ the world go by. So Pete Hong – “
„The new recruit?“
„Yeah. The kid’s real young. Comes from a nice quiet town upstate. I don’t think he ever saw a rat before. So he waves his nightstick at Oscar. No reaction. He gets closer, like he’s gonna pet that dirty little sacka fur. But before I can say anything, Mallory pulls rank and orders Pete to back away from the rat.“
That’s my little diplomat.
„So, Harry, how’d your boy take it?“
„Not real well. Then Mallory says the rat’s sick, and even a rookie should know better than to touch it. Well, that stopped Pete cold for a second. I felt kinda bad for the kid – first week on the job, and your partner makes him feel like a fuckin’ idiot in front of two other cops.“
„So then you had to back up your guy, right?“ Riker was nodding. He could guess the rest of it.
„Damn right, I backed him up,“ said Sergeant Bell. „I can’t have one of my men look stupid in front of a damn homicide dick – no offense, Riker. So, I figure she’s right, but I say the rat’s just overfed, bloated – and that’s why he’s slow. Old Oscar’s been raidin’ our lunch bags for years, and he was a fat little sucker. So now the other two guys are goin’ along with my bloated-rat theory.“ The desk sergeant shrugged. „They know a sick rat when they see one, but – “
„But backing up their guy is the main thing,“ said Riker, smiling.
„Damn right. So your partner says, ‘Put up or shut up.’“
„Mallory knows a good sucker bet when she sees one.“
„Yeah, she does. So we all put money on it.“
„Let me get this straight,“ said Riker. „You and the other two cops – you knew she was right, but you still made the bet? All of you?“
„Yeah, it’d gone too far. And Pete Hong was the first one to lay his money down. Hey, what could we do? Ten bucks – not a big wad to save the kid’s face. Well, now we all got cash riding on the little hairball. So Pete doesn’t want Oscar to get away, but Mallory still won’t let him touch the rat.“
„ ‘Cause the rat’s sick, maybe dangerous.“
„Yeah, you never know with rats. So Oscar’s just about to take a slow dive behind the candy machine. That’s how he was gettin’ in. Damn hole in the wall, big as your fist. Just as the rat’s going into a roll, Mallory picks him off with one round. Nice clean shot.“
The desk sergeant held a sheaf of paperwork out to Riker. „This is the lab report from the Board of Health. Came in this morning. Mallory was right – that damn rat was diseased. Now the city docs are comin’ in to do blood tests on everybody.“
Riker scanned the sheets. They included a copy of the watch commander’s report. Less colorful than Sergeant Bell’s telling, it briefly described the lawful and necessary dispatch of a potentially dangerous animal.
„Harry, I want you to send all this paperwork up to Special Crimes. Make sure Coffey sees it.“ Riker lightly slapped the desk. „Right now, okay?“
„Sure thing. Did the lieutenant have something riding on the rat?“
„Yeah, he did.“ Riker was grinning as he strolled toward the front door.
Jack Coffey had been wrong about Mallory. She had a sense of humor. And he had been right about her, too. The kid truly was a monster. She had let the lieutenant run his mouth on deadly payback for gun-happy cops. And all the while, she had been patiently awaiting this official delivery of a world-class punch line from the Board of Health.
What a setup.
When the report hit Coffey’s desk, the lieutenant was going to implode or put his screaming head through a wall.
Riker left the station house with one fist raised high in triumph.
Mallory rules.