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The Killing Dance :: Гамильтон Лорел
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"When do I getmy gun back?" I asked.
Branswell stared at me. "When ballistics is done with it, Ms. Blake. And I'd be damn grateful that you're getting it back at all." He shook his head. "I've heard stories about you from some of the cops who answered the last call from your apartment. The one with the two killer zombies." He shook his head again. "Don't take this wrong, Ms. Blake, but have you considered moving to a new jurisdiction?"
"My landlord is probably going to suggest the same thing," I said.
"I'll just bet he is," Branswell said. "Counselor, Sergeant Storr."
"Thanks for letting me sit in on this, Branswell," Dolph said.
"You said she was one of yours. Besides, I know Gross and Brady. They were the first officers on scene for the zombies. They say good things about her. I've talked to half a dozen officers that say Ms. Blake saved their butt or stood shoulder to shoulder with them under fire and didn't blink. It cuts you a hell of a lot of slack, Blake, but that slack isn't unlimited. Watch your back, and try not to shoot up any innocent bystanders." With that, he left.
Dolph stared down at me. "I'll drive you back to your place."
"Richard's waiting for me," I said.
"What's going on, Anita?"
"I told Branswell everything I know."
Catherine stood up. "Anita has answered all the questions she's going to answer tonight."
"He's a friend," I said.
"He's also a cop," Catherine said. She smiled. "Isn't that right, Sergeant Storr?"
Dolph stared at her for a minute. "That is certainly true, Ms. Maison-Gillette." He pushed away from the wall. He looked at me. "I'll talk to you later, Anita."
"I know," I said.
"Come on," Catherine said. "Let's get out of here before they change their minds."
"Don't you believe me?" I asked.
"I'm your lawyer. Of course I believe you."
I looked at her. She looked at me. I got up. We left. I wondered if Richard would believe me. Probably not.
5
Richard and I walked toward his car, through the police station parking lot. He hadn't said a word to me. He'd shaken hands with Catherine and headed for the car. He got into his side. I slid into the passenger side. Richard started the engine and backed out of the parking slot.
"You're mad about something," I said.
He eased out onto the street. He always drove carefully when he was angry. "What could I possibly be mad about?" The sarcasm was thick enough to eat with a spoon.
"When do I getmy gun back?" I asked.
Branswell stared at me. "When ballistics is done with it, Ms. Blake. And I'd be damn grateful that you're getting it back at all." He shook his head. "I've heard stories about you from some of the cops who answered the last call from your apartment. The one with the two killer zombies." He shook his head again. "Don't take this wrong, Ms. Blake, but have you considered moving to a new jurisdiction?"
"My landlord is probably going to suggest the same thing," I said.
"I'll just bet he is," Branswell said. "Counselor, Sergeant Storr."
"Thanks for letting me sit in on this, Branswell," Dolph said.
"You said she was one of yours. Besides, I know Gross and Brady. They were the first officers on scene for the zombies. They say good things about her. I've talked to half a dozen officers that say Ms. Blake saved their butt or stood shoulder to shoulder with them under fire and didn't blink. It cuts you a hell of a lot of slack, Blake, but that slack isn't unlimited. Watch your back, and try not to shoot up any innocent bystanders." With that, he left.
Dolph stared down at me. "I'll drive you back to your place."
"Richard's waiting for me," I said.
"What's going on, Anita?"
"I told Branswell everything I know."
Catherine stood up. "Anita has answered all the questions she's going to answer tonight."
"He's a friend," I said.
"He's also a cop," Catherine said. She smiled. "Isn't that right, Sergeant Storr?"
Dolph stared at her for a minute. "That is certainly true, Ms. Maison-Gillette." He pushed away from the wall. He looked at me. "I'll talk to you later, Anita."
"I know," I said.
"Come on," Catherine said. "Let's get out of here before they change their minds."
"Don't you believe me?" I asked.
"I'm your lawyer. Of course I believe you."
I looked at her. She looked at me. I got up. We left. I wondered if Richard would believe me. Probably not.
5
Richard and I walked toward his car, through the police station parking lot. He hadn't said a word to me. He'd shaken hands with Catherine and headed for the car. He got into his side. I slid into the passenger side. Richard started the engine and backed out of the parking slot.
"You're mad about something," I said.
He eased out onto the street. He always drove carefully when he was angry. "What could I possibly be mad about?" The sarcasm was thick enough to eat with a spoon.