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“They’re scumbags.”

“Most of them, yeah, but before they became scumbags, they were somebody’s little boy, somebody’s best friend. That’s all still somewhere inside. This kid has been missing his father since he was twelve. That did something to him, and he’s just looking for someone to tell it to. But he’s not going to tell it unless he believes you care.”

“Oh, I care, all right.”

“About him? As a human being? Because what happened in that office wasn’t just about a victim. You ever shoot that gun of yours, Ramirez? You ever kill anyone?”

“Not yet.”

“You sound like you’re looking forward to it.”

“I’m ready to do what I need to do.”

“I don’t think anyone’s ever ready for that.”

“What’s the point, old man?”

“Whoever pulled the trigger in that office, he didn’t just kill Toth, he killed a part of himself, too. You can’t forget that. The killer needs to pay a price, but he’s hurting about what he did. You want answers, you got to be able to weep for them both.”

“I do my weeping at the movies,” said Ramirez. “Can I get on with it?”

Henderson stared at her for a long moment, wondering when the newbies got so young, thinking for the hundredth time about retirement, and then said, “Knock yourself out.”

CHAPTER 15

RAMIREZ SAT DOWN across from Kyle Byrne. His eyes were sleepy. He smiled at her, like she was merely paying him a friendly visit.

“Well, now,” he said. “This is quite a coincidence. Here I was, thinking about you, and bam, just like that you show up.”

“Thinking about me?” said Ramirez.

“Yeah, sure. Ramirez, right?”

“That’s right.”

“I’m sorry, I forgot your first name.”

“Detective.”

“Wow, your mother must have been psychic or something. But I was thinking about your smile.”

“My smile?”

“And the way things ended a little awkward between us last time. When I got pulled in here, I was hoping that you’d show up so I could apologize for being kind of short with you at the end of our conversation. It was just the questions you were asking, like I was a murder suspect or something, and it all being done at a cemetery, somehow it seemed a little too strange.”

“And it’s not too strange now, you and me across a table in an interrogation room at police headquarters.”

Kyle Byrne sat up a bit, looked around. “Is that what this is? I thought it was just a waiting room, though I did wonder about the mirror over there. And why there were no vending machines. I didn’t have any breakfast and could sure go for a sack of Doritos right about now.”

She stared at him for a moment, was taken in somewhat by his smile. He was a charmer, the cocky bastard. Time to get a little hard, to wipe the smirk off his face.

“How did you get into Byrne & Toth’s building this morning, Mr. Byrne?” she said.

“Call me Kyle.”

“Just answer the question.”

“Through the back door.”

“The landlord assures us that the door was locked. He checked it himself. He’s been understandably careful since the murder.”

“I guess he wasn’t careful enough.”

“Do you have any experience picking locks?”

“You mean, like, with a paper clip?”

“Or lock-picking tools.”

“No, but I always wanted to learn. That and nunchucks. I always wanted to learn that nunchuck thing, too. Whap-whap-whap. Do they teach you guys that?”

“There were scratch marks around the metal of the lock, as if it had been picked, sloppily. As if it had been picked by someone who’d been drinking. Do you know how the marks got there?”

“Maybe a drunk trying to stick in a key.”

“Were you drinking last night?”

“What was it, a Wednesday night?”

“Yes.”

“Then I probably was. But really, all I did was open the door.” “And waltzed in.”

“Something like that, yeah. Do you dance, Detective? Because sometimes they have some pretty good bands at the North Star up on Poplar, and I was wondering if maybe you’d—”

“Is that how you slipped in the time before, through that same door?”

“What time before?”

“Friday night.”

“Friday night? Isn’t that when Mr. Toth was killed?”

“That’s right. If you come clean now, I can make things easier for you. I’ll put in a word with the D.A.”

“And what word would that be? Doritos? Because that’s the only thing I would want right now from a D.A. Until Mr. Toth’s funeral, I hadn’t been anywhere near him since right after my father died. And you want to know why?”

“Sure,” she said, leaning forward.

“Because he scared the crap out of me. That old man was like the ogre in my dreams. When other kids were certain that furry green monsters were hiding in their closets, I was certain it was Laszlo Tot h .”

“And that’s why you killed him?”

Kyle laughed. “No, that’s why I stayed the hell away from him. But if I’m your best suspect, then I guess you’re not having much luck with your investigation.”

Ramirez stared at Kyle Byrne for a moment, caught the glitter of a smile in his eyes, then looked down at the file. Truth was, they weren’t having much luck. They hadn’t yet found the missing watch or computer screens, hadn’t yet found the murder weapon or anything else that might help.

“Do you own a tuxedo, Mr. Byrne?”

“Why? Are you inviting me to some Policeman’s Benevolent ball? If so, I could rent.”

“Do you have any shirts with French cuffs?”

“No, but I have a dickey.”

“A what?”

“You know, one of those turtleneck collars that go under a shirt.”

She stared at him for a moment more and then turned to the mirror. She couldn’t peer through it, but she didn’t have to see Henderson’s face to know he was laughing. She would have bet that old bastard had a whole drawerful of dickeys. Care, he had said, about the person. And against all odds, she did sort of like this kid. She glanced again at the mirror and then stood and pulled her chair around until she was sitting catty-corner to Byrne.