“Maybe not,” Jesse said. “See what you can find out about Lorrie Weeks, before she became Lorrie Weeks. What was her name? Where was she from? How did she know Lutz?
Anything you can come up with. Probably be useful if you got a blowup of her driver’s license photo from New York DMV.”
“If I track her down,” Suit said, “will it go in my personnel file?”
“You’ll be a lock for detective,” Jesse said.
“If we ever have detectives,” Suit said.
“Absolutely,” Jesse said. “You’ll be one of them.”
“What I like,” Suit said, “is the guv comes up here to let the press look at him and blows a lot of smoke about how he wants the case solved, and the only thing he did helpful he doesn’t even know it.”
“He was annoyed that I asked about it,” Jesse said.
“Just another empty shirt and tie,” Suit said. “Why the hell are they all like that.”
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Jesse shrugged and shook his head.
“It’s the kind of guy the job attracts.”
“No good guys?”
“Few,” Jesse said. “Would you want to be governor?”
“No.”
“President?”
“Christ, no,” Suit said.
“Why not?”
“Too much bullshit,” Suit said.
“So who would want that kind of a job?” Jesse said.
“A bullshitter,” Suit said.
Jesse smiled at him.
“If you’re good with a hammer,” Jesse said, “you look for a nail.”
“Wow,” Suit said. “No wonder you made chief.”
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49
Jenn had dressed her apartment for Jesse’s arrival. The bed was made with a dressy spread and ornamental pillows. She had lighted candles, put out crystal, filled the silver ice bucket.
She hugged him when he came in.
“Oh boy,” she said. “I feel so safe with you. I mean, Sunny’s great, and Spike, but I never feel with anyone the way I feel with you.”
“That’s probably true for me, too,” Jesse said.
