BLACK NOTICE. PATRICIA CORNWELL

“It will never happen.”

“Don’t be so sure. I hear she’s got friends in high places, Virginia connections, which is one of the reasons we got stuck with her. She’s got a plan, no doubt about that. Snakes like her always got a plan.”

I opened the ,trunk, exhausted and depressed as the earlier trauma of the day returned to me so hard it seemed to slam me against the car.

“You aren’t gonna do him tonight, are you?” Marino asked.

“No way,” I muttered. “It wouldn’t be fair to him.”

Marino gave me a questioning look. I felt him watching me as I stripped off my jumpsuit and shoes and doublebagged them.

“Marino, give me one of your cigarettes, please.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing that again.”

“There’re about fifty million tons of tobacco in that warehouse. The smell put me in the mood:’

“That ain’t what I was smelling.”

“Tell me what’s going on;’ I said as he held out his lighter.

“You just saw what’s going on. I’m sure she explained it.”

“Yes, she did. And I don’t understand it. She’s in charge of the uniformed division, not investigations. She says no one can control you, so she’s elected to take care of the

problem herself. Why? When she got here, you weren’t even in her division. Why should you matter to her?”

“Maybe she thinks I’m cute.”

“That must be it,” I said.

He exhaled smoke as if he were putting out birthday candles, and looked down at his T-shirt as if he had forgotten it was there. His big, thick hands were still dusted with talc from the surgical gloves, and he at first looked lonely and defeated, then turned cynical and indifferent again.

“You know;” he said, “I could retire if I wanted to and draw about forty grand a year pension.”

“Come over for dinner, Marino.”

“Add that to what I could get doing some security consulting or whatever, and I could live pretty good. Wouldn’t have to shovel this shit no more day after day with all these little maggots crawling out from everywhere thinking they know it all.”

“I’ve been asked to invite you.”

“By who?” he asked suspiciously.

“You’ll find out when you get there.”

“What the hell does that mean?” he asked, scowling.

“For God’s sake, go take a shower and put on something that won’t clear out the city. Then come over. Around six-thirty.”

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, Doc, I’m working. Three-to-eleven shift this week. Eleven-to-seven shift week after next. I’m the new hot-shit watch commander for the entire friggin’ city, and the only hours they need a friggin’ watch commander is when all the other commanders ain’t on duty, which is evening shift and midnight shift and weekends, meaning the only dinner I’m gonna get the rest of my life is in my car.”

“You’ve got a radio,” I told him. “I live in the city, so it’s not out of your jurisdiction. Come over, and if you get called out, you get called out.”

I got inside my car and started the engine.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“I was asked to . . .” I started to say as tears threatened again. “I was about to call you when you called me.”

“Huh? This isn’t making any sense. Who asked you? What? Is Lucy in town?”

He seemed pleased she would think of him, if that’s what my hospitality was all about.

“I wish she were. See you at six-thirty?”

He hesitated some more, swatting flies and smelling awful.

“Marino, I really need you to come over,” I told him, clearing my throat. “It’s very important to me. It’s personal and very important.”

It was so hard to say that to him. I didn’t think I’d ever told him I needed him in a personal way.. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d said words like this to anyone but Benton.

“I mean it,” I added.

Marino crushed the cigarette beneath his foot until it was a tobacco smear and pulverized paper. He lit up again, eyes wandering around.

“You know, Doc, I really got to quit these things. And Wild Turkey. I’ve been going through that stuff like buttered popcorn. Depends on what you’re cooking;’ he said.

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