“But this time, it was a cop who took the payoff,” Pete said. “And he killed this kid.”
“How do you know he killed Seth Randolph?” Frank asked.
Pete made a sound of exasperation. “I thought you read the files.”
“You’ve had ten years to think about it. I’ve had less than twenty-four hours. Humor me.”
“He was the last person to go into Seth Randolph’s room before the kid’s body was discovered,” Vince said. “The guard reported that Lefebvre was in there for a long time.”
“The guard that had been talking to nurses all evening? The one Lefebvre had reprimanded in front of the nurses on the previous evening?”
“You did read the files,” Pete said.
Frank nodded.
“Not everything,” Vince said. “Or you’d know that Lefebvre signed out the evidence and returned the box with nothing but a watch in it.”
“What do you suppose that was about?” Frank asked.
Vince shrugged. “Who knows? The guy was the biggest fuckin’ fruitcake on the force.”
“He acted crazy?”
Vince hesitated, then said, “Naw, he was just odd, you know? A loner. Never went out for so much as a beer with anyone in the department. Never saw him with women, even though sometimes women came on to him. God knows why. Ask your wife about it.”
“Damn it, Vince!” Pete said. “See if you can rent some sense from somebody. Frank — ignore him.”
“No insult intended,” Vince said with a smile. “Besides, Frank, that was before the two of you got together. She wasn’t supposed to be a nun all those years, right? I mean, some women have a thing for—”
“Shut the fuck up, Vince,” Pete said.
“Nothing to get upset about,” Vince said. “Ugly as he was, women went for him. Remember that TV reporter who was practically stalking the guy? Even Hitch’s partner wasn’t immune to him.”
“Rosario the Lesbo?” Hitch said. “You gotta be kidding. The other guys in Narcotics used to call her ‘Twenty Below,’ because that’s how cold you felt if you tried to get next to her. But you seem to have been real interested in everybody’s sex life, Vince. Weren’t you getting any back then?”
Pete laughed. “No, he wasn’t. I remember, Vince — you were splitting up with Blond Bitch Number Three then, right?”
“Oh, man,” Hitch said, “I remember that one, too. San Onofre.”
The others laughed, even Vince. Hitch turned to Frank. “You ever see that nuclear power plant on Interstate Five?” He cupped his hands in front of his chest. “She had a pair of knockers that made those twin domes look like anthills.”
“I thought we were here to talk about Lefebvre,” Vince said, and had to put up with another round of laughter.
“So Lefebvre worked in a department where everyone hated him?” Frank asked.
“No,” Pete said. “You’re getting the wrong idea. Nobody hated him until after he killed Seth Randolph.”
“Nobody?”
“He could be a little abrupt,” Hitch said. “He pissed a few people off.”
“But we all thought he was a good cop,” Pete said.
“Good?” Ned Perry shook his head. “We thought he was great.”
“He’s right,” Reed said. “You’d have to be a priest — a very old priest — to have as many sinners confess to you as Phil did. And Phil wasn’t physical — he never so much as touched ’em. He had a brain, too.”
“He got a little too smart with that brain,” Pete said.
“I was just starting in detectives when this whole thing broke,” Reed said. “I used to really admire him. Until he took that payoff, he won the department all kinds of praise. That made it worse, really.”
There were nods of agreement from everyone but Hitch and Vince.
“Not that I don’t just live to see you guys,” Frank said, “but I was having an enjoyable Sunday morning until Pete called. Okay, so I came down here. But nothing you’ve told me is big news to me — except the part about Vince’s ex.”
Everyone but Vince laughed.
“The point,” Pete said, “is to let you know what this means to us. It’s going to be bad enough that the guy’s name is before the public again. This is going to rake up a lot of ill will. The department doesn’t need it.”
Frank eyed him skeptically. “There’s more to it than that.”
“No, there’s not. Look, Cliff said you didn’t find the payoff money, and he thought maybe you had some questions — were leaning toward trying to clear Lefebvre’s name.”
“Now we’re getting warmer.”
“So you haven’t recovered the money,” Hitch said. “That doesn’t mean he was innocent. Everything else pointed to him — the fact that he was the last one to see the kid, the fact that he was the last one to handle the evidence. Those two facts alone are enough to make it clear that he’s the killer. You don’t settle this quickly, you
