If Angels Fall Read Online Free PDF

she stepped back to the front.
    “Sorry about this, Mr. Becker,” she said.
    The bells rang and Sydowski filled the doorway, then walked to the
store’s rear. “Well, well, well, if this isn’t a curse.” He looked at Reed.
“Everything in order...Inspector Turgeon, is it?”
    “Turgeon, correct. Yes, all in order.”
    “You should have taken Mr. Becker here to Ingleside Station.”
    “Mikelson in General wanted him near the scene for now.”
    “Yeah. I’ve just spoken with Gord. We’ll be moving Mr. Becker
shortly. Now, if no one objects, I’ll take care of Mr. Reed.” Sydowski clamped
Reed’s arm firmly, escorting him out the rear of the shop. The two patrolmen
followed with Wong.
    Alone in the back alley, Sydowski backed Reed against a wall and
winced. His heartburn, the price he paid for eating that dog, was irritating
him. He jabbed his finger into Reed’s chest.
    “Just what the hell are you doing?”
    “My job.”
    “How’d you find Becker?”
    “Instinct. How are you anyway?”
    “Delirious. See you’re still getting paid to kill trees?”
    “Sure, I’ve been promoted. I am now the patron saint of reporters
who trusted their police sources.”
    “Thomas. Thomas, ask me if I give two shits,” Sydowski said.
“Listen, voychik , you fucked yourself so beautifully you would’ve made a
million as a freak act. I told you to sit on the stuff you had. Didn’t I? I was
doing you a favor, remember that.”
    “Still raising little birdies, Walt?”
    An unmarked car inched its way up the alley. Sydowski raised his
hand, stopping it at the rear of the store.
    “We’re taking Becker home now. The wife collapsed at the news.”
    “What have you got?”
    “Beats me.”
    “C’mon.”
    “A kidnapping.”
    “Why did they call you to this? You’re Homicide.”
    He blinked several times. “What do you think, Tom?”
    “Do you think it’s a copycat?”
    Sydowski looked away, and swallowed. His Adam’s apple bounced and
his face saddened. “Who knows?” he said, his eyes burning from the hotdog, the
onions. The unknowns. “I have to go.”

FIVE

    Dropping his last fare
of the day at City College, Willie Hampton sighed at the wheel of his cab and
began humming a tune from South Pacific . Old Willie couldn’t restrain
his bliss. In three hours, he would strap his vacation-starved butt into the
seat of an Oahu-bound 747 and leave the driving to the hacks who didn’t look
back. Take me to Pearl and step on it, Willie chuckled. Gonna get me a lei.
    Seaman Hampton of the U.S.S. California would pay his
respects in person to the boys of the Arizona . He would pin on his
Distinguished Service Medal and let them know he never forgot. No, sir. Then,
for three weeks, he would ride at anchor. Willie switched off his radio and was
headed for the shop when he spotted a fare near Balboa Park at San Jose and
Paulding. A curbside.
    No dice, pal.
    Willie looked again. The guy had a kid, a little girl draped over
his shoulder. Maybe she was sick or something. What the hell? But only if it
was on his way. Maybe keep it off the books.
    Willie pulled over.
    “Logan and Good.”
    That’s Wintergreen. The man didn’t look like a rez of that war zone.
He had dark glasses, was stone faced. The kid was sleeping, long blond hair.
Balloon still tied to her hand. Must’ve come from the park. Okay, it was on his
way.
    “Hop in.” Willie reached back, popped a rear door. The man placed
the kid down to sleep, her head in his lap. “Too much fun for your princess
today?” Willie said to his rearview mirror.
    “Yes.”
    Half a dozen blocks later, two SFPD black-and-whites, with lights
wig-wagging, screamers yelping, roared by Willie in the opposite direction. He
stifled his usual comment on San Francisco’s criminal vermin. His fare had
dropped his head onto the rear dash.
    Aww, let ‘em sleep.
     
    Edward Keller was not sleeping. He was praying. Thanking God for His
radiant protection in helping him secure the