Swersky hung up, and rubbed his temples. This day was getting worse by the minute.
He paged through the duty rooster to find a female police officer who could go over to sing that sad old song that cops have to do almost every day to Mrs. Boscorelli... to tell her that her youngest son was dead.
Finally he noticed one his patrol women who was riding a desk while her partner was on medical leave. Twenty-eight-year old Kinsey Gallagher, a smart, compassionate cop. She'd do the best job.
He called her in.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" Kinsey stepped cautiously inside his office, her dark eyes watching him. She was nervous at being summoned to his office, it showed on her pretty heart-shaped face, and the way her fingers alternately twirled her hair and rubbed one of her high cheekbones.
"Yes, sit down Officer, and relax. I just have a job for you."
"Oh? And what is that, sir?"
"Do you know Officer Maurice Boscorelli?" Swersky asked, looking at her.
"Uh, yes, sir, slightly. He's a good cop."
"Well, unfortunately, his younger brother was found dead this morning, and I need you to go break the news to his mother."
She grimaced slightly.
"You have a problem officer?" Swersky asked sharply. He didn't have time for this bullshit.
"No sir, sorry. Just telling someone that their loved one's dead isn't my favorite part of this job." Kinsey said quietly, looking down at her hands, kneading them together.
Swersky felt his anger deflate, "Sorry officer. But I was just thinking that you'd do the gentlest job."
"Yes sir, I understand."
"So you'll do this?"
"Yes, do you have Mrs. Boscorelli's address?" Kinsey asked, getting to her feet.
Swersky got his computer, and typed up Bosco's file, finding his mother as his contact in case he was injured in the line of duty.
"It's 234 Kasdan Street in Brooklyn." he reported
Both she and Swersky stood.
"Anything else, sir?" she asked, those almond-shaped dark brown eyes locking directly on Swersky's.
"Just tell her... maybe call a relative to sit with her. Then after that's taken care of, if you don't want to come back to desk duty, you can call Sergeant Cruz and see if she has anything for you."
"Okay..." the cop paused, "Sir, why isn't Officer Boscorelli with his mother, if you don't mind me asking?"
Swersky looked at her hard, "Can you keep your mouth shut?"
Kinsey nodded.
"After I told him about his brother's death, Officer Boscorelli got... upset and left. And we haven't been able to locate him."
Kinsey nodded slowly, "Okay. So is Sergeant Cruz in charge of-"
"Yeah, looking for Bosco. Although it's not really a official thing."
"Okay. I'll talk to her after I'm finished at Mrs. Boscorelli's.
******************************************************************************
Bosco walked the streets of New York, half in a daze, ignoring the smells, and noises of the city.
He kept picturing Mikey.
His brother lying on that cold hard slab in the morgue.
His bulging, sightless eyes staring at Bosco accusingly.
He had been curled up into a ball, a last-ditch effort to defend himself before the knife had finally killed him.
And the terrible wounds that the knife had caused. On his brother's poor face... flesh was ripped away, cheekbone revealed. All of the stab wounds on his chest and back. Blood was everywhere, had turned the clothes Mikey had been wearing a gruesome crimson.
Bosco would never forget that awful picture.
He swallowed, feeling a wave of nausea. But shoved it away.
Shoved everything away.
He had some scum to talk to.
******************************************************************************
Sasha Monroe knocked on Faith Yokas's apartment door, praying that Fred Yokas wasn't home. She liked the man well enough, but he hated Bosco. If she even mentioned his name, Fred would throw her ass out.
After a minute, the door opened.
Faith, still in a wheelchair following a shoot-out with Sergeant Cruz, sat there.
Monroe offered her friend a uneasy smile, "Hi Faith."
"Hey Monroe, what are you doing? Come in." Faith replied, smiling.
"Nothin'... hey, is Fred here?" Sasha said, glancing around.
"No, he's at work. Why, is something wrong?"
Sasha nodded slowly, hesitated, "Um, well, It's about Bosco."
Faith, who had been wheeling towards the kitchen, stopped dead, a unreadable expression on her face, "What about him?"
"His brother was killed this morning." Sasha said.
"Mikey's dead?"
Sasha nodded.
"Can't say I'm not surprised. Guy was a walking O.D."
"He didn't O.D. Somebody stabbed him to death in a alleyway." Sasha said and filled Faith in on what happened with Bosco after that.
"So we were wondering, if you knew where he might go?"
"Have you been to his mother's?" Faith asked.
"Swersky sent an officer over there. Hasn't checked in yet."
"Well, actually I doubt he'll go over there. I'm sorry, I can't really help you." Faith said.
Sasha thanked her and went to leave, paused, "Hey Faith."
"Yeah?"
"I know where he'd go. If he thought he was still wanted."
"Huh?"
"Here Faith. When I was asking what he was going to do for Christmas, he said he was going to his mom's, and that was it. He said he used to go to your house, and you could tell how much he misses you. But you broke his heart, even though he tried so hard to apologize."
Faith stared at Sasha, "Since when did you become Bosco's number one fan?"
"Since I've worked with him every day and got to know what a good guy he is. When I was frantically trying to find a Oliver the Onion for my nephew on Christmas Eve, and although a grateful store owner generously gave me one, as you know, we aren't allowed to accept, Bosco cajoled Lieu into letting me have it. So he is a good guy, even if some people don't think so." Sasha snapped.
With that said, she left, shutting the door hard behind her.
