tell DeLaroza more than he wanted to know rather than less.
‘This was definitely a woman,’ Kershman said.
‘I was around until four o’clock this morning. Lot of crazy things going on, but I would have heard if there was a killing in that neighbourhood.’
‘Well, if you could check around., discreetly. Perhaps, uh, there’s some reason the police are keeping it under wraps. I would prefer not to create any curiosity. I just thought I
might get something from the inside on it.’
‘I’ll go on down after we leave here, snoop around quietly. See if Twigs knows anything. He’s the county coroner.’
‘Remember, I don’t want to make any waves. This must be done carefully just in case they are working on something they don’t want the press to know about.’ He paused to sip the marguerita and then asked, ‘What crazy stuff was going on?’
Anderson chuckled. ‘Oh, Larry Abrams was screwing around with something half the night. A tape of some kind for the Vice Squad. He’s workin.g with a new man over there named Sharky.
‘What was on the tape?’
‘I don’t know. Neither does he. Know what he said? He said it sounded like a Chinese orgy.’
Kershman took another sip and. kept listening.
‘What made me think of it is that I picked up a post mortem tape for Abrams about two A.M. from Grady Hospital. It wasn’t the John Doe, because Twigs was complaining that Riley in Homicide was pushing him to do it before he went home.’
‘I see. Well, if you could just kind of check around, The thing is, I’m pushed for time. If there is something 1 can chase down, I’d like to know by this evening.’
‘I’ll do my damn best,’ Anderson said sincerely.
‘Was there anything else?’
‘Nope. Actually it wasn’t a very lively night. Oh, yeah, Abrams pulled a fingerprint report for somebody, too. I took it down to him. Funny thing, he got a positive make on the prints, but the subject’s been dead for a couple of months. Some truck driver from Nebraska.’
‘And who is this Abrams?’
‘A wiretap man, been in the OC six months or so. Nice little guy. Very talented. The Feds even borrow him every once in a while.’
‘Maybe he was doing this job for the government people,’ Kershman suggested.
‘No, I saw the tape. It had Sharky’s name on it.’
‘And what about this Sharky?’
‘I’m surprised you didn’t do something on him. He’s the narcotics cop who shot the pusher on the bus the other night.’
‘Oh, yes, of course,’ Kershman remembered seeing the headline, but he had not paid much attention to the story.
‘He was transferred into the Vice Squad because of it,’ Anderson said. ‘Now keep that under your derby, okay? It hasn’t been released publicly.’
‘1 won’t say a word,’ Kershman said.
Chapter Twenty
Sharky had filed a radio message through central for Friscoe to meet him and Livingston at a pizza parlour on Peachtree Street called Franco’s. they had been there less than ten minutes when Friscoe arrived, puffing through the door and looking no better or worse than he had at breakfast. Friscoe plopped down in the booth with them and waved the waiter away.
‘I got so much coffee in me, I couldn’t eat if I wanted to,’ he said. ‘So, you got some news?
Livingston was eating a submarine sandwich. Without looking up he said, ‘We just wanted to say hello. We thought maybe you missed us.’
‘Anything new?’ Sharky said, concentrating on a piece of pizza that had everything on it but chocolate syrup.
The lieutenant smiled proudly. ‘Yeah, I made a little score. I got lucky like Papa. Kenny Bautry, a Fed probation officer, has a guy who fits the description of the stiff in the city dump pretty good. Did thirty years plus in the joint at Leavenworth. Got out in October, reported once, and Kenny hasn’t seen him since.’
Sharky took another bite of pizza. ‘Name isn’t Corrigon, is it?’ be said.
‘Well shit!’ Friscoe said. ‘I’m gonna get a goddamn complex.’
Livingston slid the picture of Scardi across the table in front of Friscoe. ‘That’s who hit Corrigon and Domino.’
Friscoe looked at the picture and reared back in surprise.
‘That’s Angelo Scardi!
‘That’s very good, Barney,’ Livingston said.
