Naked Cruelty by Colleen McCullough Page B

Joey Tasco was already off his beloved desk and Mike Cerutti out of patrol, and revolution wasn’t even a tiny storm cloud on the horizon; both men had been dumped immediately into equally responsible jobs they had to battle to learn without losing face. Some of the changes were shrewdly aimed at more junior men, suddenly given work they had despaired of ever getting. It was a kind of balancing act: for each old leader knocked down a peg, there was a young leader thrust up a peg. For, having got the job, the new captain had sent for copies of the personnel files, and had every one of his 200-plus men firmly in his mind on the day he started. Yes, he said cheerfully, there would be mistakes.
    â€œNot with the old stagers who need a shake-up, however. It will be with the younger men moving upward. Only the job can reveal whether my guess was right.”
    After an hour listening to Fernando, Carmine felt exhilarated. What were his problems, compared to those of a man with such a huge group of men under his command?
    â€œWhat’s eating you, Carmine?” Silvestri asked suddenly.
    Carmine blinked. “I didn’t realize it was obvious, John.”
    â€œI’ve known you a long time. Spit it out.”
    â€œCorey Marshall’s not making the grade.”
    â€œA shame, but no surprise.”
    â€œI chose the wrong way to go about settling him and Abe into their new jobs,” said Carmine bleakly. “I really thought that after good tutelage in the basics, it was better to let them find their own way. It worked with Abe, but not with Corey.”
    â€œIn what way?” Fernando asked, sounding interested.
    â€œOrganization, including paperwork. Except for Buzz Genovese, the reports from Corey’s team are lousy. For instance, there was a drug-related murder of a prostitute behind City Hall a month ago—before Buzz’s time. Corey handled it himself, but if I were a cop thirty years in the future trying to make head from tail of it, I couldn’t. He hadn’t taken enough photos and his description of the scene was pathetic. I chewed him out about it, but he never bothered to augment the report. There are a lot of Corey’s cases done like that.”
    â€œDoes he offer a reason?” Silvestri asked.
    â€œSure. It’s not important enough to merit the time spent on the kind of report he would an interesting crime.”
    Fernando let out a breath. “Ah! He’s an exclusive man.”
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œYour lieutenant resents pedestrian cases, he wants glamor.”
    â€œYes, exactly,” Carmine said, nodding. “He dislikes routine of any kind as well, hence sloppy time sheets and poor rapport with his team members.”
    â€œNo, he’s okay with routine, believe it or not. How long did he work for you?”
    â€œFive years.”
    â€œSo he’s okay with routine, otherwise you wouldn’t have put up with him for five minutes, let alone five years. He wants exclusive-looking cases, not chickenshit stuff, and I’d be willing to take a bet he thinks your cases are much better than his. But he hexes himself—who’s got his ear?” Fernando asked.
    â€œHis wife,” said Carmine and Silvestri in unison.
    â€œThat makes it tough.”
    â€œWelcome to the Holloman Police Department,” Silvestri said with a wide grin. “That’s the trouble with small cities. No one can keep a secret. Within six months Netty Marciano will have you squared away too, Fernando.”
    When he stopped laughing, Carmine asked a question. “Is it true that you’re going to reorganize the uniformed hierarchy?”
    â€œGiven the fullness of time, yes,” Fernando said readily. “There are too many sergeants among the uniforms, which leads to confusion—who’s senior to whom, et cetera. There’s no hurry, Mr. Commissioner. It will happen when I’m ready.” He stretched