Richard Montanari by The Echo Man Read Free Book Online Page A

feelings morph from apprehension to annoyance. What the hell was this
jackass doing at her house?
        She slowed
to a walk for the last one hundred feet, catching her breath. She approached
the man, who seemed to realize he was out of place.
        'Detective,'
Jessica said, suddenly conscious of her appearance. She wore loose sweatpants
and a tight tank top, a sports bra beneath. She had worked up a sweat and taken
off her fleece hoodie, tied it around her waist. She saw Stansfield's stare do
a quick inventory of her body, then find her eyes. Jessica took a moment,
caught the rest of her breath, drilling the look right back. Stansfield
flinched first, looking away.
        'Good
morning,' he said.
        Jessica
had the option of putting her hoodie back on, zipping it up, but that would be
telling Stansfield that she had a problem. She had no problems. Not one. She
put her hands on her hips. 'What's up?'
        Stansfield
turned back to her, clearly doing his best to look at her face. 'The boss said
Detective Burns might not be back today, and that if it was okay with you—'
        'Byrne,'
Jessica said. 'His name is Kevin Byrne.' Jessica wondered if Stansfield was
intentionally busting her chops or was really that clueless. Right now it was a
toss-up. It wasn't that Kevin was Superman, but he did have a reputation within
the unit, if not the entire department. Jessica and Byrne had worked some
high-profile cases over the past few years, and unless you were a rookie you
had to know who he was. Plus, Byrne was off cleaning up Stansfield's mess, and
this could not possibly have been lost on the man.
        'Byrne,'
Stansfield said, correcting himself. 'Sorry. The boss said that he might not be
done with the grand jury today, and that we should partner up for the duration.
At least until Detective Byrne gets back.' He shuffled his feet. 'If that's all
right with you.'
        Jessica
didn't remember anyone asking what her thoughts were on the subject. 'You have
the notification sheet?'
        Stansfield
reached into his suit-coat pocket, retrieved the form, held it up.
        As he
did this, Jessica glanced at the house. She saw a shadow near the window in the
front bedroom, saw the curtains part a few inches. It was Vincent. Jessica
might have been a police officer, and even when she jogged these days she was
armed - at that moment she had the sweetest little Browning .2 5 at the small
of her back - but when Vincent saw her talking to someone in front of the
house, someone he didn't know, his antennae went up. The number of police
officers killed had risen sharply over the past few years, and neither Jessica
nor Vincent ever let down their guards.
        Jessica
nodded, almost imperceptibly, and, a few seconds later, the curtain closed. She
turned back to Stansfield.
        'All
in a day, detective,' Jessica said. 'Let's partner up.'
        The
twisted, phony smile on Stansfield's face all but shouted his disappointment at
her tepid response. 'That's good news,' he said. 'Because we have a job.'
         We, Jessica thought. What a true delight this was going to be. She knew she was up
on the wheel. The wheel was the roster of detectives on the Line Squad. When
you caught a new case you went to the end of the line, worked the case, slowly
making your way back to the top. When you reached the number one position,
regardless how many cases you had on your plate, you were up again. Rare was
the day in the unit where you cleared your cases when a new body fell.
        'All
right,' she said. 'Let me a grab a shower. I'll be out in ten minutes.'
        Two
things immediately registered on Stansfield's face. One, the idea of her taking
a shower. Two, the fact that he hadn't been invited in.
     
        The
crime scene was at the northern end of the Pennsport section of South
Philadelphia. Pennsport was a working-class neighborhood, bounded by Passyunk
Square to the west, the Delaware River to the