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“Give him a break, Mills,” Martinez muttered. “We’re standing in his goddamn blood here.”

“Hey, just saying it like it was. The guy did his shift, clocked out. Couldn’t get an extra minute out of him without it being a direct order from the captain. But he did his job while he was on.”

“How’d he get picked for the Ricker team?”

“Martinez wanted him.” Mills shook his head at the mess behind the bar. “Last cop I’d’ve figured for getting taken out. I’da made book he’d have done his twenty-five and spent his retirement building birdhouses or some shit.”

“I tagged him for the task force,” Martinez confirmed. She angled her body away from Mills in a way that told Eve the detective wanted distance from the lieutenant. Bad. “I was head investigator under Lieutenant Mills. Kohli was a detail freak. He never missed a word. You had him on surveillance, you got a report that described everything he saw for four hours, down to the garbage in the gutter. He had good eyes.”

She frowned at the blood splatter. “If you’re thinking Ricker ordered a hit on him, I can’t see it. Kohli was background, he was a drone on that investigation. He was in on the bust, but he didn’t do anything but record the scene. I took Ricker down, for all the fucking good it did.”

“Kohli was the one with the details,” Eve said. “Anyway, some of those details could’ve gotten through to Ricker, helped him slide?”

There was a long pause. Eve saw Martinez’s eyes meet Mills’s before they both turned toward her. “I don’t like what I’m hearing coming out of your mouth, Dallas.”

Mills’s tone was a jagged threat, like rusted metal in a sweaty hand. Out of the corner of her eye, Eve saw Roarke shift, and damn it, Peabody as well. She took a step forward as if to shake off the guard dogs. “What you’re hearing coming out of my mouth is standard.”

“Yeah, for some half-ass or lowlife who ends up in a bag. It’s not fucking standard for a cop. Kohli carried a badge same as you, same as me. Where do you come off saying he was dirty?”

“I didn’t say he was.”

“Hell you didn’t.” Mills jabbed a finger at her. “You start heading down that road, Dallas, you won’t get any help from me. This is why the case belongs in our house and not with some bitch down at Central.”

“The case is with some bitch down at Central, Mills. Live with it.” At her easy response, Eve thought she caught Martinez biting back a grin. “The question has to be asked, I asked it. I still haven’t heard the answer.”

“Fuck you. There’s your answer.”

“Mills,” Martinez murmured. “Take it down.”

“And fuck that, too.” He rounded on her. His fists were clenched, and the blood had surged to his face. “Goddamn skirts don’t belong on the job anyway. You go ahead and play with Whitney’s pet cunt, Martinez, and see where it gets you. No cop turns on another, no matter what he was, and gets by me.”

With a last vicious look at Eve, he stalked out.

Martinez cleared her throat, scratched her head. “The lieutenant has a problem working with women and minorities.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. So you shouldn’t take it more personal than that. Look, the Ricker deal was mine, and Kohli was a straight arrow. That’s one of the reasons I tagged him for some of the drone work. I don’t like your question either, but I figure it’s like you said. It had to be asked. Kohli may not have been one to go the extra mile, but he respected his badge. He liked being a cop, standing for the law and order thing. I can’t see him going on the take, Lieutenant. Just doesn’t fit.”

It depended, Eve thought, on where you put the pieces. “What did Mills mean, no matter what he was.”

“On Kohli?” Her eyes sparkled with what might have been humor or temper. “Meaning Kohli was black. Mills is of the opinion the only real cop is male and white and hetero. Personality-wise, Mills is pretty much a flaming asshole.”

Eve waited until Martinez left. “You get all that, Peabody?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Record off. Make a copy for my file, keep the other under wraps. Walk Roarke through the place