“Short-barrel thirty-eight revolver. Recently fired.”
“How about the rifle?”
“Nothing yet, but we’l find it. He had a key to the boathouse along the lagoon. We figure he shot you, then let himself in and grabbed the boat.”
“And what? He was going to just paddle away.”
Lawson shrugged. “Maybe. Tel you the truth, we weren’t exactly looking for a guy in a kayak.”
“Any ID?”
“We’re running the prints now.”
“And you think that’s it?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Who shot him, Lawson?”
She slipped her elbows onto the table and crowded forward in her seat. “I thought you might have an idea on that.”
“You think it was me? Jesus Christ.” My cel phone buzzed and I flipped it open. “Yeah?”
“Nice job, Kel y. Very nice job.”
I held up a finger to Lawson and walked out the back door onto Cleveland Street. A drunk was sleeping in the cold. I watched him scratch himself as the mayor congratulated me for having the bal s to play judge, jury, and executioner.
“You took care of things. Nice and simple. Took care of our city.”
“Mr. Mayor-”
“It’s something I don’t forget, Kel y. Make no mistake about that.”
“Mr. Mayor, I never fired my weapon.”
“I understand, son.”
“I drew down on him with my handgun, but I didn’t fire.”
“Say no more. We’re on an open line here. Not a problem. Whatever happens, don’t worry about it. No one’s throwing a rope around your neck. You understand me? Where are you?”
“In a bar.”
“By yourself? You want me to send someone down there to drink with you?”
“No, I’m with Agent Lawson.”
“The FBI broad?”
I could sense the mayor’s sex drive pop up from whatever dark place it slept, head moving, tongue flicking. Not a pleasant image in an already unpleasant conversation. But there it was.
“Yes, Mr. Mayor.”
“Jesus, I’d like to throw a shot in her. You gonna throw a shot in her?”
I didn’t respond. The mayor, of course, took that as acquiescence.
“You fucking Mick bastard. That’s great. You deserve it. You real y do. I can’t say this publicly because of the tragedy on the Drive today, but you know what? It could have been worse. Much fucking worse. And I say that with al due respect and a heavy heart. You’re a hero, Kel y. Nothing less. I gotta run. We’re doing a press conference tonight. Listen, have a couple drinks on the city. Celebrate that piece of shit being dead. And, Kel y?”
“Yes, Mr. Mayor?”
“Stick it up her ass for me, wil ya?” The mayor’s voice cracked at the seams with sudden laughter, before bursting over into some sort of demented fucking chuckle. I cut the connection and headed back into the bar.
“The mayor sends his best.”
“Does he?” Lawson said.
“Yeah, he’s a real prince of a guy.”
“He’s disgusting.”
“Wel, there’s that, too.”
“He gave you the old pep talk, right? Make sure you nail the FBI broad, al that crap.”
“We real y need to talk about this?”
“You’re right. No sexist pig is going to ruin our celebration.” Lawson raised her glass. “Here’s to Kel y. Taking care of the bad guys.”
I shook my head. “My gun hasn’t been fired, Lawson. You know that. So, what exactly did I shoot him with?”
She shrugged. “Don’t know. But if you didn’t shoot him, who did?”
“Exactly my point. If it wasn’t one of your agents, it had to be a third party.”
“And you’re thinking of the accomplice?”
“Yes, I am.”
“The accomplice no one believes exists.”
“Is that what they’re saying now?”
Lawson leaned forward and tapped the back of my hand. “That’s what they’ve always been saying. Listen, putting this guy down is no big deal. He kil ed four people and critical y injured another. And that was just on the Drive today. Between you and me, it’s a blessing.”
“I didn’t shoot him, Lawson.”
She leaned back and sighed. “Don’t fuck up my case. It’s al nice and neat. Wrapped up and put to bed.”
“Not if there’s an accomplice out there.”
“There isn’t.”
“Then how did this guy get his head blown off?”
“You want to hear a theory?” she said.
“Love to.”
“You shot him, then dumped the weapon in the lake. Why, I’m not sure. Wel, no, I am sure. He wasn’t an immediate threat to you and he was clearly going to be apprehended, so there was no way you could justify pul ing the trigger legal y.”
“So I used a second weapon and then got rid of it.”
“Gives you deniability when we have this conversation. Even a little insurance.”
“And kil s someone you and the mayor both wanted dead.”
“Myself, the mayor. Everyone from here to Washington. For Chrissakes, Kel y, we talked about this.”
“You talked about it, but it didn’t happen that way. The trajectory of the bul et and angle of the wound wil confirm it.”
“Assuming any of those tests are done.” Lawson nibbled at a pretzel and waited for me to see the light. Reality is relative, meaning it happened whatever way the Bureau says it happened.
“We’l be at the mayor’s press conference tonight,” she said, “then issue a statement tomorrow, confirming the dead guy was our shooter. He was kil ed by an unidentified law enforcement agent as he resisted arrest.”
“You don’t believe that,” I said.
“I believe someone wants this to end, and that’s fine with me. An accomplice turns up down the line, I’ve moved on and it’s some other guy’s problem.”
“Look out for number one. Right, Lawson?”
“You were a cop in this town. You know how it works.”
I lifted the pint to my lips and drained it. The cold beer felt good at the back of my throat and I rattled the empty glass on the table between us.
“You want another one?” I said.
She shook her head. “No. I had two last night.”
“And?”
“Three drinks a week. That’s the limit.” She tugged a crumpled pack of cigarettes from her pocket and lit one up.
“Bartender’s not gonna like that,” I said.
Lawson slipped her shield onto the table. “I’m not a drunk, Kel y.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
She blew smoke in a cool, blue stream over my head. “I don’t even have a problem with it.”
“Okay.”
