The Quality of the Informant by Gerald Petievich Read Free Book Online

insisted. " Why couldn't it have been four or six?"
    "I don't know. I guess I looked at my watch." Carr frowned.
    Waeves glanced at the yellow pad. He printed what looked like the word five and underlined it. He put the pen down. "So, you called for help and searched for the escaped prisoner," he said. "Then what?"
    "We couldn't find him."
    The interrogator nodded. "Go ahead."
    "Go ahead what?"
    "What did you do then?"
    "I called the informant from a pay phone," Carr said. "Her line was busy."
    " Why did you try to call her?"
    "To tell her LaMonica had escaped."
    "How do you know the line was busy? Couldn't the phone just as easily have been out of order?" Waeves made a sucking sound on the pipe.
    Carr closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. "Her line was busy so we drove over to her apartment."
    "How long did it take?"
    "To do what?"
    "To drive to her apartment."
    "Because of the rush-hour traffic it took about a half hour," Carr said.
"Would you say it was closer to twenty-five minutes or thirty-five minutes?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"It was about half an hour," Carr said.
Waeves's angular face became blotchy. He coughed nervously. "How long had Linda Gleason been your informant?"
"About five years."
"And how was she recruited?"
"She was a walk-in," Carr said. "Her husband was murdered on a contract let by Tony Dio the loan shark and she wanted to get even. She gave me enough information on one of Dio's hoods that I was able to get a search warrant for his house. I found fifty grand in tens and the weapon that was used on her husband inside the house. Headquarters authorized a cash payment to her after the conviction, and from then on she just kept feeding me information. She always worked as a cocktail waitress in one or the other of the local hood hangouts. They trusted her because her husband had a reputation for being solid. No one ever suspected her as far as I know." You know the story as well as I do , you two-faced bastard.
Waeves leaned back in his chair. He rolled a pen on the back of his knuckles. "You arrested LaMonica at the informant's apartment, leaving no doubt as to her role as the informant," he said. "What is your explanation for this tactic?"
    "It was her idea," Carr said. "She felt comfortable with the scenario and I accepted that." Carr was talking to the recorder. He knew the tape would be played like a party record by the inspectors in Washington, D.C. "Linda Gleason was an active, longtime informant whose original revenge motivation had turned into a financial one. She got a few extra bucks now and then for doing nothing more than repeating bar talk. She had provided information on at least forty cases. It was common for her to make up the scenario for her undercover role."
    The recorder squeaked. The tape had run out. Waeves punched the "eject" button with a bony finger and the cassette popped out. He yanked open the desk drawer and rummaged around for a fresh cassette.
    "You don't have anything on me," Carr said. "My operation will be ruled 'in policy.'"
    Waeves slammed the drawer shut and opened another. He moved things around. "We'll see," he said.
    "Take your best shot, pencil pusher," Carr said.
    Waeves pulled a cassette out of the drawer and stuffed it into the machine as if plugging a dike.
    Carr's tone changed to one of courtesy. "Are there any other questions, Mr. Waeves ?" He was looking at the tape recorder.
    "Yes," said the blotchy-faced man. "What time was it when... ”
     
    It was after 9:00 P.M. by the time Carr arrived at Ling's bar. He pushed aside a portal of hanging beads and looked around for his partner. Ling's, like the other haunts in Chinatown, was kept mysteriously dark. Bar jokes had it that the cavelike atmosphere was due to Ling's desire to save on utility bills, but Carr suspected that the detectives who drank there preferred the lack of light.
    Kelly waved, drink in hand, from a bar-stool perch facing the door. Carr made his way to him and sat down.
    Ling, wearing