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“Excuse me, sir. Did you see what happened here tonight?” I asked as we walked.

“No, sir, I didn’t see nothing,” he said louder than he needed to. Then he whispered. “Two thirteen.” And kept walking.

I let the rest walk by and get in the building before I moved. Just as I was about to go up to apartment 213 to hear what the man had to say, an officer rushed up to us. “Excuse me, detectives, but we found another body,” he said excitedly.

“Where?” Sanchez asked.

“In a vacant apartment on the third floor.”

“Call the techs back and tell them we got another one, Gene.” Sanchez pulled out his radio and got them to turn around, as we followed the officer to the third floor.

“Who found the body?” I asked along the way, then up the stairs.

“I did,” the officer said. “We were going door-to-door and that one wasn’t completely shut. I gave it a little shove and shined my light in there. Body is in the living room.”

“Anybody go in there?” Sanchez asked.

“No, sir. I left my partner to watch the door and I came to find you.”

“Good man,” Sanchez said and I shook my head. He might as well have patted the kid on the head and gave him a treat.

“See if you can get an ETA on the evidence techs,” I said as we got closer to the apartment. I borrowed the kid’s flashlight and shined it in the apartment. “Another woman, Gene,” I said and Sanchez looked in.

“You think this one is connected with the others?” he asked.

“Hard to say.”

“Lieutenant Reyes says he’s on his way up now,” the officer said, and we waited outside the apartment so the crime scene wouldn’t be distributed.

I waited until Reyes’s team got finished doing their job, before Sanchez and I went in. “What you got, Reyes?”

“Black female; shot once in the head at point blank range. Judging from the angle of the entry wound, either the shooter was very tall, or the victim was on her knees,” Reyes said.

“Executed,” Sanchez said. “I guess that answers our question about whether they’re related,” he said.

“Maybe,” I said.

“Maybe, but not necessarily, lieutenant,” Reyes said. “And I’m going purely on the state of rigor in the body. I’d say this one was shot a good seven hours before the ones outside. But give me some time and I’ll have a timeline for you; though she was definitely shot first.”

“Thanks, Reyes,” I said and left the apartment to let them bag and tag her.

I went downstairs and knocked on the door of apartment 213. When the door opened, the man hurried us in and scanned the hall to see if anybody had seen us come in. He quickly closed the door and locked it. I looked around the room and noticed the chair sitting next to the window. I motioned for Sanchez and he walked over to the window and looked out. “I’m Detective Kirkland,” I began.

“I don’t need to know all that. I know y’all the cops.”

I laughed a little. “Okay, sir, just tell us what you saw?”

“The killers; they rolled up in a black van, jumped out, and started shooting.”

“You were sitting here by the window when it happened?” Sanchez asked.

“I was watching television.”

“You always up this late?” I asked.

“I don’t get in from work ’til three. I always watch a little TV before I go to bed. I had been here about an hour when they come. Kenyatta and them other two, shot back, and the rest of them scattered.”

“You know what it was about?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

“What’s it always about, officer: drugs. That girl and her thugs been regulatin’ this buildin’ for years. People coming and goin’, buying they dope all hours of the day and night.”

“How long have they been setup here?” Sanchez needed to know since this spot wasn’t on his radar.

“Shit, about two, maybe three years,” he said. “Now y’all got to go. You been in here just long enough for me to tell you I ain’t see nothing.” He started walking toward the door.

“Okay, sir, we’re going; but did you get a look at any of the shooters, or can you tell me what kind of van it was?”

“They was Black and so was the van, and that’s all I could see from here. Now y’all got to go,” he said and opened the door. Once we were out in the hall he stuck his head out. “Like I told you outside, officer, I ain’t see nothing,” he said loudly and slammed the door.

Sanchez and I walked away from apartment 213 in silence, and went down the steps. There were still the three guys from the crowd that I picked out, to talk to. I chose the three of them because, unlike most of the crowd who looked like they had just grabbed something to wear to run out and see the show, these three were dressed like they had been out all night doing business. They looked like dope boyz-pure and simple. Some call it profiling; I call it my job.

When I got outside, they had the three of them in separate cars. Sanchez and I got in the car on either side, with the first one. “You wanna tell me what happened out here tonight?”

“No.”

“Look, we can do this anyway you want; but you are going to tell me what happened.”

“No I ain’t. I got the right to remain silent,” he said with a smug look on his face like he had the world by the tail.

“That’s only if you were under arrest, which you’re not. Right now, I have all the rights. And I got the right to kick your fuckin’ ass, and then I’ll arrest you for resisting arrest,” I said.

“Yeah, but you ain’t gonna do that, ’cause I’ll sue your ass for police brutally.”

“You were injured while resisting arrest; wasn’t he lieutenant?”

“That’s how my report will read,” Sanchez said.

“Or maybe I’ll just shoot you in the back and say you were trying to escape.”

“You just tryin’ ta’ scare me.”

“Look, I know you were with them when the shooting started.”

“Who told you that?”

“I did,” Sanchez said. “We had you, asshole, under surveillance for months. We know all about Kenyatta Damson and the whole crew of you. You take a good picture.”

“What I get if I tell you what you wanna know?”

“I already told you: you get to get out of this car alive and with no broken bones,” I said.

“All right. I don’t know who them niggas was, but they rolled up on us and just started shooting. Blade was out front; he got cut down ’fore he got his gun out. Kenyatta and Fraz shot back but they were outgunned. Them niggas was bustin’ with AKs or some heavy shit like that.”

“And the rest of you ran for cover,” Sanchez said and got out of the car.

“I took-yeah, we just ran,” he said and dropped his head before he admitted that he was involved in the shooting.

“Thanks,” I said and got out of the car. We ran the same game on the other two and they told us the same story. I had the officers take them in, book them for loitering, and then let them go. At least we would have their prints and mug shots.

After Sanchez and I left the crime scene, he rode with me while I grabbed something to eat and some coffee, and then we headed back to the precinct. I wanted to get a look at the file he had on Kenyatta Damson and he not only wanted, but needed, to find out how this woman was running an operation like she was, and nobody in his unit knew anything about it. He didn’t say it, but I knew he had to be thinking that someone in his unit might be dirty.

While Sanchez wandered around the unit chewin’ ass, I dug into her file. Under the circumstances, I wasn’t expecting to find much. When Sanchez got done with his tirade, he came back in his office, sat down in front of me, and took a deep breath. “Was it good for you?”