Supreme Justice by Max Allan Collins Read Free Book Online Page A

“You’re all old enough to know this man took a bullet for the President of the United States. He’s here to help. You may hear me call him Peep . It’s an old nickname. I’d suggest if you don’t have history with him, you make it Mr. Reeder. ”
    “Christ, you’re killing me,” Reeder whispered to his friend. Then to the group: “ Joe is fine. Just don’t call me late for lunch.”
    Nobody laughed or even smiled at that. But a few people said “Hey”; several nodded.
    Sloan didn’t let it go at that: “Some of you may know that Peep here is a controversial fellow. There are nasty rumors that he’s a Democrat.”
    That did get a few laughs.
    “But before you give him a hard time,” Sloan said, “keep in mind that he is here at the specific, special request of Assistant Director Fisk.”
    That caused a murmur, but then they were all back at it.
    “Well,” Reeder said, “that was fun. You had to bring up me takin’ a bullet, huh?”
    Sloan put a hand on Reeder’s shoulder, and his blue eyes smiled. “Peep, they did need to hear that. It was a fucking brave thing you did.”
    “Saving that bastard was the worst move I ever made.”
    “He was a good president, despite what you may think,” Sloan said, “and there are those of us who feel you did the country a great service.”
    “All I did was my job.” Rotating his left shoulder as much as he could, Reeder said, “And anyway, maybe this is going to turn out to be the worst move I ever made.”
    Bishop came up, shook Reeder’s hand, clamped him on the good shoulder. “Welcome aboard, Peep.”
    Returning the firm grip and smile, Reeder said, “Thanks . . . I guess.”
    “We can sure as shit use the help,” Bishop said with a humorless smirk. “We’re not coming up with a hell of a lot so far. Any idea how many black SUVs there are in the DC metro area?”
    Sloan said, “We’ll do a full briefing for everybody in ten minutes. I don’t care how many agencies are in on this. We need everybody on the same page.”
    Bishop, clearly glad to be included, nodded. “I hear you, boss man.” He headed to one of the desks.
    The flying-saucer brunette approached them. She wore a white blouse under a charcoal suit, had curly hair cut short, brown eyes, a wide nose, full lips, her makeup understated. She was attractive if not pretty in the conventional sense. Cute. Which was probably something of a burden for an FBI agent.
    Sloan made the introductions: “Patti Rogers, Peep Reeder.”
    She extended her hand, her expression still confused.
    Shaking her hand, Reeder said, “What?”
    She shook her head, clearing the cobwebs. “It’s just that Sloan has told me so much about you for so long . . . I sort of figured you’d fly in.”
    “My cape is in the wash,” Reeder said with an embarrassed grin.
    “Some people reader you are,” Sloan said with half a smile. “My partner played you like a kazoo, buddy.”
    Rogers seemed a little embarrassed herself now. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Reeder,” she said.
    He nodded. “Why don’t you make it Joe ?”
    “All right, Joe . . . There’s a desk next to mine. Wanna help me catch a couple killers?”
    “Sure,” Reeder said, but he glanced at Sloan.
    Rogers was already on her way as Sloan said, “Peep, I’m going to partner you up with Patti. You need someone with some actual authority, and Patti is damn good. She’s also footloose, since I’ll be spending my time running the show.”
    Reeder nodded.
    And then he took his place at a desk on the periphery, away from the big people’s table.

“ Ethics is knowing the difference between what you have the right to do and what is the right thing to do .”
Potter Stewart, Associate Justice of the United States Supreme Court, 1958–1981.
Section 5, Grave 40-2, Arlington National Cemetery.

FIVE
    Patti Rogers knew damn well that Joe Reeder was disliked, even hated, by many of their fellow law enforcement agents, including some here at the command