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The door was open, but I knocked anyway. The captain looked up from her desk. She was one of those women who should have been attractive. She had thick black hair and deep brown eyes, and olive skin that in her midforties looked like it was still in its twenties. She had all the right bits in all the right places, but she was somehow unlovable. Her eyes gave me that “what the hell do you want” look. Then I guess she remembered she’d called me, and gave something that should have been a smile but wasn’t. Captain Jennifer Cuevas was all about what should have been.
“Lead detective was Sam Goodman. Now retired. It was suspected at the time that Nelson and his gang may have run afoul of the Mob, but a total lack of evidence or witnesses meant the case foundered.” “Foundered…” “Yeah. The other victims were Dickson Rodriguez, Evandro Perez, José Perez, and Geronimo Peralta. All cousins of Nelson’s, and Evandro and José were brothers.”
he ambushes us and takes out three of the boys. Tony, Angelo, and…” He thought for a while, making a round-and-round motion with his finger. “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Go on.” “It fuckin’ matters. Frankie. It was Frankie. Anyway, so he ambushes us with superior numbers and kills four of our boys.
“Womeng wefobu zaya landa yinchin tsi shuchen poo shedze hersaw shund atanya!”
‘We will have vengeance on the Irish penis whose ancestors were not human and also were born from big eggs.’ As last words go, they have a certain je ne sais quoi.”
“Little grasshopper, if the strength of your determination to hit the bull’s eye makes you jump up and down and stamp your feet, your aim will become faulty and you will miss the target.”
“when you eliminate the impossible, whatever is left, no matter how improbable, is the truth.” It
“Slánta!”
check them against Mick Harragan’s dental records. They’ll be in the NYPD database for the 43rd precinct.
“Yesˆ Now
