Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [614]
They had left their families somewhere in the sea of red, white and blue with the simple excuse of finding something cold to drink. Vendors lined the circular drive around the monument at the top of the park, away from the blankets and almost out of reach of the half-dozen seven-foot amplifiers Frankie and crew had brought along. Pakula ordered a kraut-dog with the works and a tall, bucket-size Coke, while the chief settled on less indigestion with a plain dog and a tall bucket of his own, only Dew instead of Coke.
“Not sure why you want to waste your money on that.” Pakula nodded at Chief Ramsey’s pathetic hot dog swallowed by a bun and drowning in mustard while Pakula bit into his own, piled high and wide.
“Yeah, ask me that later when you’re popping the antacids.”
Chief Ramsey eyed a couple of teenagers on bicycles scoping the terrain below as if they might attempt to ride down into the crowd. Pakula recognized the habit and caught himself checking out a double-parked van with its back doors left swinging open but the owner nowhere in sight. It bugged Clare and she continuously accused him of not listening to her just because he wasn’t looking at her. But with two cops it wasn’t unusual at all to carry on a complete, detailed conversation without ever making eye contact.
“There’s something you need to know, Tommy.” Chief Ramsey glanced at him, but his eyes were quickly gone, now checking out something behind Pakula, off to the right. “Vice has had an eye on O’Sullivan and Our Lady of Sorrow.”
“Holy crap,” Pakula said under his breath, caught with a mouthful. He swiped at the corner of his lips with the back of his hand. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that yesterday?”
“Because it’s nothing official, not even a single complaint filed. Just some reporter from the Herald who’s been nosing around and hassling Sassco to do something. I know Sassco’s been head of Vice for only six months, but you know the guy. It doesn’t take much to get his nose all bent out of shape if it involves kids. If there was anything at all, he’d be all over it. Could just be a lot of gossip and rumor. Maybe this reporter’s trying too hard to hunt up a story. Maybe she’s thinking it’s been happening all over the country, why not here? You know how the goddamn media works.”
Pakula nodded, but this time kept quiet. The chief wasn’t finished, and so he took another bite.
Chief Ramsey looked all the way around them, but no one was staying in one place long enough to seem interested in their conversation.
“I’m just saying that could be why the archbishop has his shorts all in a twist about this. He’s pretending that it’s no big deal, but it’s got to be a big fucking deal for him to send his messenger boy to pick up the luggage before the monsignor’s even had a chance to get cold.”
“Maybe he knows about the other priests getting iced?” Pakula suggested.
“Could be. Either way, his reputation is to round up his yes-men and very quietly but powerfully discredit, damage and ruin whoever the fuck he perceives as his enemy. And we both know he can do a pretty damn good job of it.”
“If some psycho is running around the country offing priests, why wouldn’t the archbishop want to do everything in his power to stop him? What am I missing?” Pakula pushed up his sunglasses and tossed the wrapper from his kraut-dog, glancing back at the vendor booth, contemplating another. After all, he still had more than half of his extra-large Coke. The chief noticed.
“Go ahead. Hell, I’d have two or three