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The Guilty - Jason Pinter [27]

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write about

it, remember? That shit last year don't make you Dick Tracy."

"You're right, but you also know I'm one of the few guys

in this town who'll give you a fair shake."

Curt sipped his coffee. "Word is Harvey Hillerman is hard

up on Wallace to raise circulation. Says the Dispatch is

growing and you're shrinking worse than my old man after

joining the polar bear club."

Harvey Hillerman was the owner of the Gazette, and perpetually at war with the tabloid tactics of the other papers in

town. But it was hard to keep the public's interest with payroll

scandals when the Dispatch could just take a shot of Athena

Paradis in a bikini, slap it on the front page and match your

circulation rate.

"It's not my job to worry about Hillerman."

"It's your job to make sure you have a job, paisan. "

"You know you're black, right?"

"What, paisan is reserved for Italians? Screw that."

We walked toward Sixth Avenue.

"So what have you got?" I asked.

"Well, the ballistics report came back. I'll tell you, the

pressure on Perez is unreal. Costas Paradis is watching every

move he makes with a magnifying glass, and he's holding that

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Jason Pinter

glass up to the sun. Man's got eyes and ears from every

lawmaker to every sewer grate in the city."

"His daughter was killed, what do you expect?"

"Carruthers has instituted mandatory overtime every day

this week," Sheffield continued. "They have undercovers

staking out every major nightclub, patrolmen inspecting every

rooftop within line of sight. They have us watching any celebrity that goes anywhere after midnight. Problem is we

don't know what we're looking for. Not to mention we're all

watching our backs after Joe got killed."

I looked at the ground.

"Don't let it get to you. Guys in the department don't hold

a grudge for the most part. And the guys that do hold grudges

are all old school, the kind the department keeps on a tight

leash because they might have had ties to Mike DiForio's

crew. Carruthers knows Fredrickson was dirty, that he was

taking money from that Tony Soprano wannabe. Until

DiForio got barbecued, that is."

"When you say guys don't hold a grudge 'for the most

part,' what's that, like fifty percent? Ninety?"

Sheffield toed the cement. Then he looked at me. "Not

gonna lie, bro, there's definitely some bad blood. Fredrickson might have been dirty, but he went back a long way. The

bad ones always have friends and there are always other

people who covered their asses. Joe Mauser, though, he was

a good cop. It's just a cumulative effect of what's happened

to that family."

"What do you think?" I asked.

"Me? Shit. I wouldn't be here right now if I held a grudge.

Fact is, city needs you on this story a whole lot more than it

needs you digging up celebrity tampons to pad Hillerman's

bottom line. Plus I like your stuff. Tired of reading news

The Guilty

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reports that read like they were written by fuckers who are

stuck on typewriters and Geritol."

"I appreciate that."

"Appreciate it in private. I'm happy to give you dirt so it

doesn't end up in Cole's witch cauldron. But after this, I gotta

be a ghost, man."

I waited for him to continue.

"So ballistics confirmed the same caliber shot was used to

kill Athena Paradis and Joe Mauser."

"No big shock there," I said.

"No, we figured it was the same sick son of a bitch. But they

were surprised to find out the caliber bullet our man used."

"Unusual?"

"I'd say .44-40 magnum rounds." Curt waited a moment.

He expected my jaw to drop, but I must have slept through

my NRA 101 course.

"Why's that surprise you?"

"Nobody uses .44-40 ammunition these days. Just an impractical caliber to use, on both sides of the good guy/bad guy coin."

"Why's that?"

"Magnum rounds are large, man. Heavy velocity, heavy

impact. The recoil on those things will knock you on your ass.

Forget everything Dirty Harry said, any cop who wants to be

able to get off a second round in the same zip code would be

an idiot to carry around a magnum. Only people who use it are

idiot cons who think it looks pretty,

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