he did some work on Kelly Lorenzo, that he was working on some of Kelly’s lower-level distributors.”
“He keeps telling me that. According to him, we’re wasting time, money, and manpower on Lydia. Feels she’s doing a number on us on account of her little daughter. Katey says a snitch doesn’t know the difference between tears and piss.”
Walker. Wallace gently patted his thinning red hair as though to keep the remainder firmly on top of his skull. “Got to figure Katey for two games. One: if anything good comes out of Lydia, his people will grab as much credit as they can get. They’ll look bad if it appears they turned over a righteous snitch to us and we made cases while the cops just stood around with their thumbs up their kazoos. They are gonna want as much out of Lydia for themselves as possible. Remember, the bottom line is politics. Law enforcement is politics, Neil. I’m telling you, just in case you don’t know. Guys wanna go higher and higher, and that only happens when some big cases go down.”
Walker Wallace rubbed sleep from his eyes with two thick thumbs. “Second thing you gotta figure Katey for: if anything goes wrong, his people will back away fast. Like I said, it’s all politics, and nobody wants to be tied up to some case that is gonna make them look bad. If it looks like the NYPD is going down the toilet, Katey’s gonna tell them, and they are gonna tear ass away from this case. You with me so far?”
Neil nodded.
Wallace said, “Now, that doesn’t mean Katey can’t help us. But bear in mind, he’s a cop, on the Big Apple’s payroll, and he’s got people leaning on him all the time, His people wanna look good, especially when it comes to cleaning up crime. So they are gonna squeeze Katey to see what he can get outta us and Lydia. They ain’t doin’ us no favors by giving us a snitch they ain’t got the money and manpower to work. What’s going down is, we do all the work while they finagle to get as much credit as possible.”
Neil said, “And if anything goes wrong, it’s all our fault.”
Walker Wallace smiled. There wasn’t an ounce of warmth in it. “You read it loud and clear, crimefighter. You can do yourself good and the bureau a lot of good, or you can fuck yourself up like it ain’t never been done before, and these here fine people you work with will drop you in a deep hole somewhere.”
“So I watch Katey.”
“Like he’s a rabbit after your lettuce, ’cause that’s what he is. Bear in mind, agent Shire, that we’re supposed to get along with the New York City police force, that if we don’t and they complain to the mayor and the mayor complains to a senator and that senator tells somebody in Washington and that somebody in Washington tells whoever at the bureau, well, let me ask you—how many balls can you afford to lose?”
Neil grinned. “I love this job. It’s heartwarming work, and the sense of trust you find wherever you go … well, what can I tell you?”
“Don’t tell me, just—”
The intercom buzzed.
Wallace jerked the receiver off the hook. “Yeah? Okay, tell ’em to come on in.” He hung up.
“Lydia and Katey. They’re here.” He stood up, eyes on Neil as though inspecting his face for pimples. “Remember what I told you about Katey.”
Neil nodded, licking his lips. He was going to watch Katey the way the watchers at the bureau were watching Neil.
5
S OMETHING WAS WRONG.
Bad Red stopped smiling and began nodding his head as a stocky black man in a pale blue safari suit whispered in his left ear. Spooks got rhythm, thought Katey, getting slightly nervous, but all this head-nodding don’t have zilch to do with music.
The music around them was a roar, disco thump-thump-thump from twelve speakers in an East Fifty-fifth Street discotheque where Katey, Neil Shire, and Lydia Constanza were making a buy from Bad Red, a cocaine dealer.
Ain’t I ready, though, thought Katey. Seconds after he’d sat down, his .38
“He keeps telling me that. According to him, we’re wasting time, money, and manpower on Lydia. Feels she’s doing a number on us on account of her little daughter. Katey says a snitch doesn’t know the difference between tears and piss.”
Walker. Wallace gently patted his thinning red hair as though to keep the remainder firmly on top of his skull. “Got to figure Katey for two games. One: if anything good comes out of Lydia, his people will grab as much credit as they can get. They’ll look bad if it appears they turned over a righteous snitch to us and we made cases while the cops just stood around with their thumbs up their kazoos. They are gonna want as much out of Lydia for themselves as possible. Remember, the bottom line is politics. Law enforcement is politics, Neil. I’m telling you, just in case you don’t know. Guys wanna go higher and higher, and that only happens when some big cases go down.”
Walker Wallace rubbed sleep from his eyes with two thick thumbs. “Second thing you gotta figure Katey for: if anything goes wrong, his people will back away fast. Like I said, it’s all politics, and nobody wants to be tied up to some case that is gonna make them look bad. If it looks like the NYPD is going down the toilet, Katey’s gonna tell them, and they are gonna tear ass away from this case. You with me so far?”
Neil nodded.
Wallace said, “Now, that doesn’t mean Katey can’t help us. But bear in mind, he’s a cop, on the Big Apple’s payroll, and he’s got people leaning on him all the time, His people wanna look good, especially when it comes to cleaning up crime. So they are gonna squeeze Katey to see what he can get outta us and Lydia. They ain’t doin’ us no favors by giving us a snitch they ain’t got the money and manpower to work. What’s going down is, we do all the work while they finagle to get as much credit as possible.”
Neil said, “And if anything goes wrong, it’s all our fault.”
Walker Wallace smiled. There wasn’t an ounce of warmth in it. “You read it loud and clear, crimefighter. You can do yourself good and the bureau a lot of good, or you can fuck yourself up like it ain’t never been done before, and these here fine people you work with will drop you in a deep hole somewhere.”
“So I watch Katey.”
“Like he’s a rabbit after your lettuce, ’cause that’s what he is. Bear in mind, agent Shire, that we’re supposed to get along with the New York City police force, that if we don’t and they complain to the mayor and the mayor complains to a senator and that senator tells somebody in Washington and that somebody in Washington tells whoever at the bureau, well, let me ask you—how many balls can you afford to lose?”
Neil grinned. “I love this job. It’s heartwarming work, and the sense of trust you find wherever you go … well, what can I tell you?”
“Don’t tell me, just—”
The intercom buzzed.
Wallace jerked the receiver off the hook. “Yeah? Okay, tell ’em to come on in.” He hung up.
“Lydia and Katey. They’re here.” He stood up, eyes on Neil as though inspecting his face for pimples. “Remember what I told you about Katey.”
Neil nodded, licking his lips. He was going to watch Katey the way the watchers at the bureau were watching Neil.
5
S OMETHING WAS WRONG.
Bad Red stopped smiling and began nodding his head as a stocky black man in a pale blue safari suit whispered in his left ear. Spooks got rhythm, thought Katey, getting slightly nervous, but all this head-nodding don’t have zilch to do with music.
The music around them was a roar, disco thump-thump-thump from twelve speakers in an East Fifty-fifth Street discotheque where Katey, Neil Shire, and Lydia Constanza were making a buy from Bad Red, a cocaine dealer.
Ain’t I ready, though, thought Katey. Seconds after he’d sat down, his .38
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