Old ladies.
Gathered like a flock of curly-haired, white-fleeced sheep, each clutching a purse and what seemed to be a brand-new gym bag. One of them, a sweet-looking grandmotherly woman with a trembling chin, said, Weve come to turn ourselves in.
In? Lucas asked. And Bone said, Gotta go. And left.
Were the opium junkies, the grandmother said, and the other women nodded. Del said our best chance for leniency was to come down and surrender to you.
Sonofabitch, Lucas said. He looked in at his phone as the grandmother recoiled; Del was probably halfway to Mexico.
I beg your pardon? she said, clutching the gym bag more tightly.
Nothing. Stay right here, Lucas said. Dont move. Ill be right back.
He trotted down to the chiefs office. No, Rose Maries gone, the secretary said. She seemed to be biting the insides of her cheeks.
Where?
The secretary had to struggle a bit to get it out: Cancu-ґn.
Lucas looked at her, a hard look, and she put her hands to her face. He turned on his heel and headed down toward Violent Crimes. He imagined he heard explosive laughter coming from the chiefs office just before the door closed behind him.
In Violent Crimes, Loring was sitting on an office chair, peeling a green apple with a penknife. Seen Frank? Frank Lester was the other deputy chief.
Nope.
How about Sherrill?
Nope. They left. Together.
Together?
Yeah. They said they were going to Cancu ґn.
You sonofabitch, Lucas said hotly.
What? Loring asked, surprised. What?
You know what.
No, I dont know what. He really seemed confused. On the other hand, he lied well. What?
THE HEADS OF INTELLIGENCE AND NARCOTICS WERE gone. Nobody knew when theyd be back. Sloan and Black were missing, Franklin was gone.
On one of his trips past the old ladies, the grandmother said bravely, We brought our things.
Your things?
They held up their gym bags. Toothpaste and pajamas and so on. For the slammer.
Aw, Jesus Christ, Lucas said.
He finally went back to Loring, got him out in the hall, explained the situation… surrendering, and I want you to help with the processing…
Loring was backing away. Fuck that, he said. Theyre yours.
Theyre not mine, Lucas shouted. But Loring was running toward the exit. Goddamnit, get your ass back here. Get back here…
Loring was the last of them.
Lucas walked back toward his office, where the little flock gathered with their purses and the gym bags, awaiting justice. All up and down the hallways, the doors were closed.
Nobody home, except him.
Is there a problem? Grandma asked.