The Ways of the Dead by Neely Tucker Read Free Book Online Page A

dearly departed?”
    “That he’s next in line for the Supreme Court.”
    “As long as the Republicans win next November, which is a done deal, you ask me.”
    “Y’all ought to be easier on brother Bill.”
    “Brother Bill ought to stop getting blown by interns.”
    “Look here. Y’all saying that there’s a ‘massive manhunt’ for them three. A federal agent, name withheld here, says so. Police chief sticks to that ‘persons of interest’ bullshit, but says, yeah, it’s on. Got a whole article here about his cases, like you trying to say somebody he sentenced got involved. They’re talking about the Junior Simpson trial last year. That crew he was running over in Trinidad, behind Gallaudet? Judge popped Junior to twenty-five to life. Junior said something at the end of sentencing”—he peered closer at the paper, through his glasses—“‘I’ll see you again.’ That’s what he said to the judge. Lawyer said Junior was talking about an appeal.”
    “What’s he say now?”
    “‘Declines comment.’”
    “I guess the fuck so.”
    “Judge also dealt out life without parole to some dude y’all call a terrorist. From Libya. Made bombs.”
    Sully was putting his dishes in the sink. “This is all busywork, ass covering, you-never-know stuff. Surely we put the token in there.”
    “Them dishes don’t wash themselves, brother.”
    Sully turned back around, took the dishes out of the sink, and put them in the dishwasher.
    “Thank you. I got an ant problem up in here.” Sly went back to the paper and, a moment later, rattled it approvingly. “Token white boy, right here. Well. Italian. Does that count? ‘The rest of Judge Reese’s calendar has mostly been white-collar corruption cases, court records show, but three years ago he presided over a racketeering case involving Joseph Fiori, an alleged member of the New York crime syndicate. Justice Department sources said they were skeptical of Mafia involvement in Sarah Reese’s slaying.’ Shit. That wasn’t hard.”
    “You don’t like the mob for this?”
    “Nobody from a professional organization would pull this. Even Junior knows better. Not that I’m calling his outfit professional.”
    Sully came and looked over his shoulder at the paper.
    The story he and Chris had written anchored the right side of the front page, the traditional spot for the lead news story of the day. The picture dominating the middle of the page was of the crime scene, the yellow police tape across the front of Doyle’s Market, two young white girls weeping and embracing just inside the tape. The headline: “Chief Judge’s Daughter Slain.”
    “Massive Manhunt for Three ‘Persons of Interest’” was the deck head.
    Tony had put the throat slitting in the third graf.
    The related stories inside took an entire page and a half. There was the story Sly had been reading from, the judge’s bio and his recent cases, and another story about Sarah, quoting friends and schoolmates. Christ, Sully thought, they must have been finding the kids on deadline. Hello, Mrs. Wealthy White Lady, may I please talk to your son Brandon? Hey, Brandon, I’m a reporter and I’m sorry to tell you your buddy Sarah is dead, yeah really, it’s terrible, I can’t even imagine what you must be going through, so . . . what was she like in class?
    He went to the coffee table and pulled his shoes out from underneath and sat down to put them on.
    “Should I be looking for them three today?”
    “If you want to waste your time.”
    “Jesus. Okay. So, then, who works with a knife?”
    “People who ain’t got a gun.”
    “We’re behind on this, brother.”
    “I know it.”
    “Then let’s move. You got somebody who can run me down to Stoney’s?”
    “Lionel’s at the end of the block. Tell him to get on back.”
    Sully walked out of the basement door and heard Sly bolt it behind him. He came to the top of the steps, the mist chilling his skin. Down at the corner of Rock Creek Church