Heat Noir
Chapter 29
Friday 12th April 1946
(Just after midnight)
Sergeant Mike Royce found a spare parking spot at the rear of the 84th Precinct building and swiftly claimed it. He turned off the engine of the patrol car and cast a look over to the rookie sitting in the passenger seat.
The rookie continued to stare straight out the windshield. He had not spoken a word since they had gotten into the patrol car. Even in the darkness of the car Royce could see that the rookie still looked ashen faced and the colour did not look like returning to his face any time soon.
"You okay, Brooks?"
Trainee Patrolman David Brooks responded with a curt nod of his head but did not turn to look at his Training Officer.
Royce and the rookie, as he called him, had been dispatched to a bar room fight that had erupted between a pair of workers from the nearby Brooklyn Naval Yard. By the time they had turned up the fight was over and one of the combatants lay on the floor dead, with half his guts spilling out.
Royce did not have the chance to ask if Brooks had been to a murder scene before. The rookie had taken one look at the gruesome sight on the floor of the bar and had promptly thrown up, much to the amusement of some of the remaining witnesses, hard bitten men who had seen many a gruesome sight in their time working in the dockyards.
"You'll get used to it, rookie." Royce said in his gravelly voice. What he did not add was that he had better get used to it if he wanted to last as a cop.
Brooks slowly turned his head to look at Royce. A moment later he nodded his head.
"Let's go inside and finish writing up our reports." Royce announced.
Royce got out of the patrol car and crossed the street making his way to the precinct building. He did not pause to look around to see if Brooks was following him. He knew he would. A moment later he heard the patrol car door close.
Royce was thankful that this murder case had been fairly open and shut. While they had been waiting for the detectives and medical examiner to arrive on the scene, he had spoken to the witnesses and got their statements. As it happened the dead guy had been having an affair with the wife of the guy who had gutted him. The affair had been going on for quite a while but the murderer had only found out about it that morning. The murderer had spent the day searching for the other guy eventually finding him at the bar. A few fists were exchanged before the murderer produced a large butcher's knife and moments later the adulterer lay dead on the floor of the bar with his innards spilling out.
The killer had been picked up about an hour ago by another patrol car out the front of the navy yard front entrance still holding the knife that he had used to kill his wife's lover.
Reaching the rear entrance Royce opened the door and motioned Brooks to go in first. He saw the rookie start to make his way towards the change rooms.
"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Royce called out.
Brooks stopped and turned to look at Royce.
"I...I...was going to clean up a little, Sergeant."
Royce could see that Brooks was in need of a clean up. He had thrown up on his trousers and shoes.
"Go write up your report first." Royce told him.
"But Sergeant..."
"You heard me, rookie." Royce said in a firm voice. "Report first, then clean yourself up."
To emphasise the point, Royce pointed towards the patrol squad room.
Brooks frowned and looked like he was going to protest but thought better of that. He turned and headed towards the squad room.
"Let me see the report before you submit it, rookie." Royce called out.
Royce made his way to the sergeant's room. He walked over to his desk and saw the large buff coloured envelope sitting on the desk. He knew immediately that it was the report he had been waiting on. About time it showed up, he thought to himself as he sat down and reached for the envelope.
It had not been easy getting the report. He had to call in a couple of favours so that it could be released to him. He tore open the envelope and pulled out the file. Quickly he opened the file and started reading it.
It did not take Royce long to read through the file and what he read did not please him at all. Gretchen Mueller's murder remained unsolved. The case may have been his for only a couple of days before he had been transferred to Berlin but he still he had a proprietary right. It bothered him that the murderer had not been caught. It bothered him even more that from the looks of things the case had been handled in a slipshod manner.
When he had read the name of the lead investigator who had taken over the case Royce wanted to throw something. He couldn't believe they had given the case to Corporal Harvey Hudson. Royce had no doubt Hudson would have gone through the motions for a couple of days before shelving the case.
He read over the report a couple of times before he closed the file and tossed it on his desk. He leaned back in his chair deep in thought. A rapid knocking on the door startled him from his thoughts. Looking up he saw Brooks standing in the door way holding up his completed report. He was still wearing his soiled uniform Royce noticed.
"You finished it?" Royce asked.
"Yes Serge." Brooks replied. "Dotted all the 'I's and crossed all the 'T's."
"Good."
Royce held out his hand for the report. Brooks walked over to the desk and passed over the report.
"Go change and head home." Royce said.
Brooks nodded his head and started to walk to the door.
"And Brooks?"
"Yes Serge?"
"You did okay tonight. Don't make it a habit when you get to a murder scene you start throwing up and we'll be fine."
"Yes, Serge."
Royce glanced at Brooks report he was holding in his hand and set it aside. He would take a look at it a little later. He did not expect to find any glaring errors in it. Brooks, unlike a few rookies Royce had encountered in his time, could actually spell. He glanced at the report he had been reading, the one that had come from Germany. The frown returned to his face. Well if the official report on the Mueller case did not have much to say he knew someone who could fill in some of the missing details.
Royce leaned forward in his chair and reached for the telephone. It would be after sunrise over in Germany but the man he was calling would be getting ready to go to work and would take the call.
XXX
Lieutenant Montgomery walked through the empty Homicide bullpen. He had his briefcase in one hand and a cup of extra strong coffee in the other which he had picked up from the diner around the block from the Precinct house. The coffee was half finished by the time he had reached the bullpen. He needed the extra jolt of caffeine to get him started and face the day.
It was still too early in the morning for anyone to be at work already except for him. He had come in early to review the Queller and Strickland case files.
Entering his office he set the briefcase and coffee on the desk. Then he removed his coat and hat hanging them on the coat stand in the corner of the office. Sitting down he reached for the coffee cup and took a big mouthful of the still warm coffee. The coffee was starting to do its job he was pleased to find.
Setting aside the coffee Montgomery opened his briefcase and took out the bundle of files that he had taken home so that he could review them.
The files had remained in the briefcase untouched. Family duties and responsibilities had taken precedence over the two murder cases. As much as he wanted to look over the cases he did not want to be on the receiving end of his wife's wrath. He might have been a cop with over twenty years experience in the force and was not afraid of much but he was scared of his wife's wrath. Evelyn Montgomery could be real scary when she wanted to be.
This was the reason he had come to the office at six-thirty in the morning. He could not go over the files at home so he would it here in his office where there was some peace and quiet.
Montgomery had a couple of hours to review the cases and see if he could find something that somebody might have missed. So far both cases had reached a dead end. The time was drawing near where he would have to shelve the cases and reassign the detectives to some of the newer cases that had come in.
With no new leads Montgomery would be hard pressed to justify continuing the investigations. He did not need a chewing out from the Chief of Detectives over the matter. Yet he hated to put old cases on the back burner. He hated leaving cases unsolved but he was a realist though. The NYPD did not have infinite resources available to them. You did the best you could with the resources you had. If you could not solve a case in a reasonable amount of time then you set it aside and moved on.
"Knock, knock."
Montgomery looked up from the case files he had been staring at and was surprised to see Sergeant Royce standing in the doorway.
"Royce, what are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing, Roy." Royce replied.
"There's no rest for the wicked." Montgomery waved a hand at the files sitting on his desk.
Royce grinned and nodded his head in understanding. He walked into the office and sat himself down on a chair. He held up the file in his hand for Montgomery to see.
"I was just going to leave this on your desk with a covering note."
"What's that?" Montgomery asked, suddenly curious.
"That case in Germany I told you about." Royce passed the file over to Montgomery. The Lieutenant opened the file and started to peruse it.
"Let me save you the time, Roy." Royce said.
Montgomery looked up from the file.
"The case remains unsolved." Royce informed Montgomery. "It was pretty much shelved a couple of days after I handed it over. There are no persons of interest listed and only a preliminary ME's report at the back of the file."
Montgomery raised his eyebrows at that.
"No full autopsy was conducted." Royce explained.
"Isn't that a little unusual?"
Royce shrugged his shoulders in response.
"You're kidding?"
"Roy, you got to remember the place was a little like the wild west back then." Royce said. "The war was only over a short time, there were so many things going on and not enough cops to police it."
"Okay."
"Anyway, there's not much in there that will be of any help." Royce added.
Montgomery closed the file and tossed it on the desk. He tried not to look disappointed. With no leads in his cases he might have gotten his hopes up a little when Royce came in with that case file from Germany. He might have been hoping that case could have given him something to go on with with his own cases. He looked over to the Patrol Sergeant.
"Well, maybe I was drawing a longbow, Royce."
"Maybe and maybe not." Royce replied.
Montgomery raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"After I read that report." Royce said motioning to the file on the desk. "Needless to say, I wasn't happy."
Montgomery nodded his head.
"So, I decided to make a call to Germany."
"Okay."
Royce broke into a grin as he looked at Montgomery.
"You wanna get me a cup of coffee before I tell you what I found out?"
Montgomery returned the grin as he got to his feet.
"I think we can managed that."
XXX
"After I got transferred to Berlin, the unit's CO, a lieutenant with ambitions far beyond his capabilities passed the case to a Corporal Harvey Hudson." Royce said before pausing to take a sip from his cup of coffee. "Hudson had been my deputy. A God fearing Christian native from the great plains of the mid west whose prejudices never failed to get in the way of the work he was supposed to do. He had little time for Germans and even less time for dead German hookers."
Montgomery nodded his head in understanding.
"So I called up and spoke to my German liaison, he'd been a detective for many years before Hitler decided to throw him in jail. He's still a damn good cop."
Royce paused again and took another sip of his coffee. He set the cup down on Montgomery's desk and then leaned back in his chair.
"His name is Rolph Hauptmann, and he was the one who identified what type of knife had been used to kill Gretchen Mueller. A 1918 M1 Trench Knife."
"How did he do that?" Montgomery asked. "Did he have forensic experience?"
"Nothing like that." Royce shook his head. "He had fought on the Western Front back in The Great War and saw the saw the wounds this knife made on his comrades."
Montgomery nodded his head.
"Hauptmann and his partner weren't happy Hudson had shelved the case so they decided to investigate on the Q.T."
"Did they find out anything?" Montgomery asked.
"Hauptman and his partner spoke to some of Mueller's friends and fellow hookers. It turns out that Mueller had been seeing an American officer."
"I'd imagine, her line of work, she'd have been seeing quite a few American officers." Montgomery said drily.
"True enough." Royce chuckled. "The thing is, she'd been seeing a senior officer. An officer in the JAG Corps."
"The Judge Advocate Generals Corps?" Montgomery asked.
"Yeah." Royce nodded.
"Did they get a name?"
Royce shook his head. "Just his rank."
"Which was?"
"Colonel."
"I doubt there would have been too many JAG Colonels in Frankfurt." Montgomery murmured
"Yeah, maybe." Royce agreed. "But you'd be surprised how many colonels were floating around Frankfurt at the time. That's where US Army HQ is located."
"Okay."
"Anyway. Mueller had been talking about this colonel taking her to America to start a new life together. It's all she talked about apparently."
"Let me guess." Montgomery said. "This colonel had no intention of bringing her to the States because he would have a lot of explaining to do to the missus."
"Who knows but that would be my guess."
"The question I have to ask is what's it got to do with my case?" Montgomery asked.
"Not a lot from the looks of things, other than the murder weapon used."
"Which is only speculation because no full autopsy was conducted on your vic."
"Yeah." Royce sighed. "What can you do?"
"What can you do?" Montgomery repeated unhappily.
Royce wearily rose from the chair.
"Anyway, I thought you'd like to know, Roy. Sorry I couldn't be more helpful."
"Thanks anyway, Royce. I appreciate it."
"Well, I'm gonna head home for some shut eye. I had a long tour last night." He said.
Montgomery rose to his feet.
The two men shook hands. Once Royce left the office Montgomery sank down in his chair and reached for the report that Royce had brought him. It might not contain anything but he might as well check it anyway.
XXX
Lieutenant Montgomery heard the hubbub slowly rising in the bullpen. He checked his watch and saw that it was just after nine o'clock. Another working day had started for his team of detectives. He closed the file he had been reading.
Two hours spent going over the Queller and Strickland case files had revealed nothing new. His detectives had followed up every lead but nothing had shaken out. Even Detective McNulty, he was surprised to observe, had done a better job on the Strickland case than usual. He suspected that had more to do with Detective Sullivan's efforts than McNulty. The inescapable conclusion was that both cases had reached a dead end.
He really had been hoping that Sergeant Royce would give him some information from his case in Germany. That too had drawn a blank. Sure the dead prostitute had been killed with an army issue trench knife but the army would have issued hundreds of thousands of those types of knives. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack.
He had given the task of trying to track down the knife through the War Department to one of the rookie detectives recently assigned to the Twelfth. That had been a few days ago but so far nothing had turned up. Montgomery did not expect it to but it had to be checked out all the same.
From past experience Montgomery knew that he had at best a couple more days to find something in either of the cases. Some new lead that his people could follow up. If they did not then the cases would be put on the back burner only to be looked at some time down the track when things were not so busy, or if some new information or evidence cropped up.
Montgomery knew he could not justify having his people still working on these two cases to his superiors. He had copped enough heat from those above at the lack of progress in the Queller case.
Montgomery hated not closing a case. He hated having murderers go unpunished but he was enough of a realist to know that some cases would not be solved. There were a handful of cases that he had investigated over the years that even now remained unsolved. That was the way it was. Some times the bad guys got away.
Rising to his feet Montgomery and slowly made his way out of the office and into the bullpen. Time was not up just yet. There were still things his detectives could do before before the cases got shelved.
Reaching Detective Ryan's desk Montgomery cast a look over the murder board and studied it. From what he could see there had been no new information to what was already there.
Ryan had started reaching for his phone but catching sight of Montgomery standing at his desk he forgot about the phone call he was about to make and leaned back in his chair and looked up at the Lieutenant.
"Sir?" Ryan ventured cautiously.
"Get the others over here." Montgomery said in a low voice, his eyes still focused on the murder board.
Ryan nodded his head and looked over to Detective Sullivan's desk and got his attention. He waved the detective over and then pointed to McNulty who had his head down.
A couple of minutes later both Sullivan and McNulty as well as Demming were standing at Ryan's desk. All four detectives looked at the Lieutenant. Montgomery slowly turned away from the murder board and looked at each of the detectives in turn.
"Where are we at?" He asked.
"Where we were almost from the start, Lieutenant." McNulty said, then added. "Nowhere."
Detective Sullivan nodded his head in agreement with his partner.
"Let's review." Montgomery ordered.
The revision of both cases did not take long. All four detectives contributed but it merely confirmed what Montgomery already knew and what McNulty had stated. They were nowhere.
"Okay." Montgomery said wearily. "Here's what we're gonna do."
All four detectives straightened up their attention focused on the lieutenant.
"You are going to re-interview all the witnesses on your cases."
"But sir, we done that already." McNulty complained. "Twice."
"Then do it one final time." Montgomery shot back. "I want to show the brass we've done everything we can, okay?"
"Okay, sir." Ryan muttered, speaking on behalf of his colleagues.
"Don't stand around, get going." Montgomery ordered.
McNulty was the first to break from the meeting. He headed straight back to his desk. His partner Detective Sullivan followed him but at a more sedate pace.
"Ryan, Demming." Montgomery motioned the two detectives to him.
"Lieutenant?" Ryan said, looking a little confused to be called back.
"I want you two to take another crack at Dempsey." Montgomery informed the two detectives in a low voice so that he could not be overheard.
"You want us to do what?" Ryan muttered.
"Rattle his cage, see what shakes out."
Ryan opened his mouth to say something but Montgomery beat him to it.
"Move it." He said.
Montgomery turned away from the two surprised detectives and started back to his office. As he neared his office he caught sight of the rookie detective he had assigned the task of tracking down the knife through the War Department.
"Detective Sloan." He called out.
The young detective named Sloan stopped in his tracks and turned around looking a little startled at being called by the lieutenant.
"Yes, sir?"
"Where are you at with the War Department?" Montgomery asked.
"Still getting some stonewalling from them, sir." Detective Sloan replied and shrugged his shoulders.
"Keep at them."
"Yes, Lieutenant."
"If they're still not playing nice, let me know."
"Yes, sir, will do." Sloan sighed and resumed walking away.
Montgomery allowed a small grin to appear on his face as he watched the young detective depart. It was the lot of all new detectives to do the mundane boring jobs around the precinct.
XXX
Detectives Ryan and Demming reached the entrance to the alley at the back of the Pennybaker Club. The two detectives paused a moment to look down the alley before they looked at each other.
They had first visited Dempsey's apartment only to find that the mob boss was not at home. The cleaning lady they had spoken to had no idea where her employer was, adding that the man did not exactly confide in her as to his movements. As the two detectives started to depart the cleaning lady had tossed them a small bone of sorts, telling them that he might have gone to his favourite pub.
Ryan and Demming's next port of call had been the Shamrock Arms. Though there had been about a dozen drinkers in the establishment long before midday, there had been no sign of Dempsey. None of the patrons were of a mind to assist the detectives in their search for the mob boss. Every question Ryan or Dempsey asked had been met by a wall of hostile silence.
Though neither Ryan or Demming said anything but both men were very relieved to have gotten out of the pub intact. Had they stayed any longer the outcome might have been different.
"You sure Dempsey's going to be here, Ryan?" Demming inquired nodding down the length of the alley.
"If he's not, there's a few other places he might be at that we can check out." Ryan replied.
"Oh great."
Demming did not hide the displeased look on his face at the thought of searching half the city for Dempsey. The two detectives started walking.
"He should be here." Ryan added.
"How can you be sure?" Demming pressed. "Gut feeling?"
"That and I spotted his car parked out the front."
Demming looked at Ryan and grinned. Ryan let out a chuckle.
"So how do you like working homicide?" Ryan asked.
"I might ask for a permanent transfer to Homicide."
"I think you'd do well." Ryan said.
"It sure beats Robbery."
"And you meet a better class of criminal." Ryan added.
"Yeah."
"You should speak to the lieutenant."
"Yeah, I think I will."
In the short time they had been partners Ryan found that he liked working with Demming. Hopefully this pairing might become permanent. He thought about putting in a good word with the Lieutenant on Demming's behalf. It could not hurt he figured.
The two detectives reached the back entrance to the club. The door was half opened.
"So how do we approach this, good cop, bad cop?" Demming asked in a low voice as he pointed to himself and then at Ryan.
"Nah, you can play bad cop." Ryan decided.
"Thanks."
Entering the kitchen the two detectives found the place a hive of activity. The smell of cooking filled the air. Chefs and kitchen hands were at benches chopping vegetables or preparing meat or chickens. A couple of other chefs stood over stoves keeping watch on the food that was cooking.
Kitchen hands at the sinks were busy washing plates while others dried and stacked. In another area of the kitchen waiters and kitchen hands were hard at work polishing long stemmed glasses. One or two of the kitchen hands paused in their work and watched the detectives walking through the kitchen. No one made a move to stop them. They knew better than to stop guys in suits.
"There's his bodyguards." Ryan pointed out in a low voice.
"Kinda short looking for gorillas." Demming observed. "More like ugly chimps."
Ryan smirked at his partner's remark.
Juan and Seamus were slouching on either side of Dempsey's office door. On seeing the two detectives approaching they straightened their stances. With barely a glance at each other they moved away from the door they were guarding.
"You can't be here." Seamus said, holding up his hands to stop the detectives.
"This says we can." Ryan held up his detective's gold medallion.
"Mr Dempsey ain't seeing nobody."
"He'll see us." Demming said.
"You deaf or somethin'?" Juan growled. "Mr Dempsey not seeing anybody."
Demming stepped up to the scowling Cuban.
"You better have a permit for that canon you got bulging under your jacket, buddy."
"What you gonna do, flat foot?" Juan challenged.
Demming smirked as he cast a glance at his partner. Ryan gave Demming a small nod of his head. On turning back to face the Cuban bodyguard Demming reached out and grabbed him by the arm. As he twisted Juan's arm behind his back he slammed him face first against the wall. Before Juan had a chance to react Demming quickly snapped handcuffs on his wrists.
Seamus had started to go to Juan's assistance when the Cuban had been thrown against the wall but Ryan's arm across his chest prevented further progress.
"I wouldn't if I were you, friend." Ryan informed him.
The Irishman considered his options and wisely decided to take a step back. He did not look pleased, glaring at Ryan.
Demming spun the still dazed Cuban around and reached inside his jacket and removed the holstered .45 calibre automatic. He held it up in Juan's bleeding face.
"So where's the permit for this, Chico?" Demming demanded.
"Don't have it with me." Juan said in an insolent tone.
Demming pocketed the gun and then shoved the Cuban onto a nearby chair.
"You sit there and stay quiet and I might forget to call Immigration to check out your status."
Demming glanced at Seamus and saw the angry look on his face.
"The same goes for you, Irish." Demming warned.
Demming was the first to reach the office door. He paused and looked at Ryan to find him grinning.
"What?"
"I said bad cop, not very bad cop, Demming."
Ryan pushed open the door and strode into the office without bothering to knock. Demming following him in and closed the door.
Dempsey was seated behind his desk dressed in shirt sleeves with his tie loosened. He had a telephone stuck to his ear and a half finished cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth which bobbed up and down as he spoke.
The mob boss's face darkened with displeasure when he saw the two detectives standing in his office. He removed the cigar from his mouth and dumped it in the ashtray.
"I'll call you back." He told the person on the other end of the telephone and quickly set it down.
"What gives coppers?" Dempsey demanded. "And where's my people?"
"They're still outside." Demming informed him. "For now."
Dempsey eyed him carefully.
"I don't know you." He said.
"I'm Detective Demming."
Dempsey nodded his head slowly and grinned as if he was committing the name to memory. He then turned his gaze to Ryan.
"Your boss too busy to come down himself, he sends the two juniors from the office?"
"Mr Dempsey, we have a few questions." Ryan said, ignoring Dempsey's remark.
"I already answered your questions."
"Then you wont mind answering a few more." Demming said. "Fine law abiding guy that you are."
Dempsey let out an amused chuckle. He gave a consenting wave of his hand before he reached for the opened bottle of whiskey sitting on his desk and poured a good measure into an empty glass. He looked up at the two detectives and raised the bottle.
"Can I interest you fellers in a drink?"
"We're on duty, Mr Dempsey." Ryan replied.
"You're loss, kid."
Dempsey picked up the glass and settled back in his chair. He took a sip of the whiskey.
"You said you had questions, detectives?"
Ryan took a step closer to the desk.
"So where were on the afternoon of 7th of March?" He asked.
Dempsey narrowed his eyes as he stared at Ryan.
"That's the day your then girlfriend, Madison Queller was stabbed to death, in case you've forgotten." Demming added helpfully. Dempsey shifted his gaze to Demming.
"I ain't forgotten when she was killed." Dempsey growled.
"So where were you?" Demming asked.
"I already told you guys where I was."
"Then tell us again."
Dempsey glared at Demming for a couple of moments before turning his attention to the glass of whiskey he was holding. Slowly he lifted the glass to his mouth and took a big sip of the dark amber coloured liquid.
"You know, I don't have to answer you questions, flat foot."
"Now, that would be a shame." Demming replied.
"A real shame." Added Ryan. "Being uncooperative."
"Yeah it would have us starting to think you might have something to hide." Demming supplied.
"Maybe you were involved or something." Ryan finished.
"I already told you cops where I was the day Maddy got killed." Dempsey said slowly and carefully, his anger barely restrained. "I was right here."
"Having a business meeting, yeah, yeah. I remember now." Ryan said as if he had just remembered that piece of information. He turned to his partner. "Mr Dempsey was right here having a business meeting with three associates."
Dempsey continued to glare as he silently looked from Ryan to Demming and back to Ryan.
"Think you're Abbott and Costello or something?"
"Would you have any idea who might have killed her?" Ryan asked, ignoring the mob boss's jibe.
"That your job ain't it?"
"I'm sure a business man such as yourself would have plenty of business acquaintances who might have a beef with you, right?" Demming suggested. "Deals gone wrong perhaps, that sort of thing?"
"I've no idea what you're talking about."
Ryan looked at Demming.
"You know what I don't understand, Demming?"
"What's that Ryan?"
"You got the reputed boss of the Westies, someone takes out his squeeze and here he is sitting at his desk sipping whiskey without a care in the world."
Demming nodded his head slowly in understanding.
"I mean if it was me and someone killed my squeeze, I'd be turning over half of New York and then some, looking for the guy who did it, you know?"
"Yeah, I hear what you're saying."
Demming nodded his head in agreement. He turned and looked at Dempsey as if he was noticing him for the first time. He gave the angry looking man a brief smile.
"Well, you didn't waste any time finding yourself a new girlfriend, I must say." Demming remarked.
"The old one barely cold in the ground and you have a new one hanging off your arm." Ryan added.
"And a real doll at that." Demming continued. "I saw a picture of the two of you in the Ledger not long ago. Quite the head turner that one, Mr Dempsey."
"I don't like your tone, Detective." Dempsey growled dangerously.
"Hey, I'm just saying." Demming shrugged, trying to look innocent.
"If you want to ask more questions, flat foots you'll need to see my lawyer."
Ryan and Demming looked at each other as if they were surprised by the mob boss's announcement. Ryan looked at Dempsey and gave him a smile.
"Well, thanks for your time, Mr Dempsey."
The two detectives turned and started for the door leaving a seething, angry man sitting behind the desk.
"You know some might theorise that he got rid of the first one because he was tired of her and wanted to take up with the new squeeze." Demming said in a voice that he was sure would carry to Dempsey.
"Yeah, I know." Ryan replied.
"I'm not saying that but others might, you know?"
"Yeah, like the boss." Ryan suggested.
"Yeah, like the boss." Demming nodded.
"Oh, he'll be hot for it now, seeing that we got nothing here."
Ryan let Demming to walk out the door first. As he was closing the door he looked over to Dempsey and shot him a bright smile.
"Be seeing you, Mr Dempsey."
The door closed just before the glass with the half finished whiskey smashed against it. The two detectives looked at each other and grinned.
XXXXX
Your thoughts would be appreciated.
Con
