Pariah Read Free Page B

come past this spot at about this time.’
    ‘Exactly. He would also know that Joe couldn’t ignore something like this. Most people, they hear noises in a dark corner, they cross the street to avoid it. Not Joe. Not when
somebody’s in trouble.’
    Franklin draws breath through his teeth. ‘Jesus. She was bait? If you’re right, that’s a clinical kill.’ The roof lights of the radio cars bounce colors off his
face as he looks around. ‘Okay. Put the word out. We want anything on someone looking to buy a hit. Also anything on the movements of known professional hitters. Find out where the pross
worked, see if anyone saw her being picked up tonight. Look at the scumbags Joe put away – anyone who might have had a reason for wanting him dead. And somebody needs to speak with
Maria.’
    Doyle picks up on the expectation dangling on the end of those words. ‘Yeah, I know. My first port of call when I’m done here.’
    Franklin frees a hand from his pockets, slaps Doyle on the arm to send him on his way. Doyle walks toward the uniforms, intending to find out more about the prostitute.
    The name carries to him on the thin air, not quite hidden in the snatches of conversation. It cuts him, and he snaps.
    ‘Fuck!’ he yells. ‘You fuck!’ He runs straight at Schneider. The self-assured smirk drops from Schneider’s face, but it is all he has time to do before Doyle piles
into him, slamming him into a tenement wall.
    The other cops are quickly on Doyle. Arms snake around him and pull him away. He watches Schneider bounce himself off the wall and prepare to come barreling back at him, but then something stops
the man in his tracks. He has seen the figure of Franklin standing there, condemnation written on his gnarled face.
    ‘What the fuck, Doyle?’ Schneider growls. ‘You feeling guilty about something?’
    ‘Fuck you, Schneider,’ Doyle answers. ‘That’s my partner lying back there. My partner, get that?’
    ‘Yeah, I get it. Your partner. Kind of like a running theme with you, huh, Doyle?’
    Doyle struggles to free himself for another pop at Schneider, but the hold on him is too strong.
    ‘You keep your shit-stirring thoughts to yourself, you fat fuck! I got nothing to be ashamed of. And I don’t ever want to hear that name from your mouth again, you got me?’
    Schneider is laughing now, taunting him.
    ‘Enough!’ Franklin commands, and an anxious silence descends once more. ‘We have two homicides to solve here. One of them’s a cop. Somebody you all worked with. Show him
the respect he deserves by acting professional and doing your jobs.’
    Schneider straightens his tie and brushes something off his sleeve. The grip on Doyle is relaxed, and he yanks himself free. As he heads toward his car he gives himself a mental slap for his
stupidity. He knew something like that was probably coming, so he should have been more prepared to handle it.
    Today was always going to be a bad day. He’s probably just made it a hundred times worse.

THREE
    ‘Cal! Hold up, man!’
    Tony Alvarez catches up with Doyle as he reaches his car. He has the smooth voice and looks of a nightclub crooner – a guy who could steal away the girl on your arm with just a glance or a
word. Doyle has lost count of the number of different females he has seen him with.
    ‘You want company?’ Alvarez asks. Like the others, he has probably had only a couple of hours’ sleep; unlike them, he has the appearance of a man who has just walked off the
shoot for a clothing catalog.
    Doyle looks at him. ‘I’m tired, I’m pissed off, and my partner’s just been found dead in a stinking lot. Do I look like I need to hear about your latest roll in the sack
right now?’
    ‘You want company,’ Alvarez says, a statement this time. Without invitation, he jumps into the car.
    Doyle shakes his head and climbs behind the wheel. He starts the ignition and pulls the car away.
    ‘You sure you want to take the risk of associating with