In This Rain Read Online Free PDF

ask how you know about that young woman— ”
    “And I’d tell you I keep track of what happens in Harlem!”
    “— and I know that and that’s why I’m not asking. That victim’s still unidentified and yessir, we’re working on it and yessir, we’re working on this, too. Though occasionally we have to stop to respond to the questions of curious civilians.”
    “Curious civilians?”
    “Yessir, and thank you for your concern. Now, if I could— ”
    Dismiss Edgar Westermann? I don’t think so. “This boy’s people— have they been notified? Have they been considered at all?”
    “His mama’s upstairs.” From behind Edgar, Ford Corrington’s voice came quietly. “I’d be obliged if you’d leave her be.”
    “You’d be— ” Edgar stopped. Deliberately, he spoke again to Underhill. “Detective, Harlem is watching you. Harlem wants results!” He gave Underhill a glare, then faced Corrington. “Ford. I know you’re showing good Christian concern, and I’m sure the boy’s family appreciates it. Now I believe I’ll go on up and offer my condolences, and any help the Borough President’s Office can provide.”
    Corrington moved left a step or two, putting himself between Edgar and the building’s stoop. “Not now,” he repeated. “Sarah will be receiving later, I’m sure. Condition she’s in now, she wouldn’t be able to appreciate your visit anyhow.”
    Edgar eyed Corrington, not fooled but no fool, either. If he and Corrington got into a shoving match here, they’d both come out looking like natural-born halfwits. Which, he knew from experience, wouldn’t bother Corrington at all.
    It had been sixteen years since Ford Corrington had burst on the scene, the Harvard man ready to set the world on fire, to sweep prejudice, racism, and disrespect from the streets of Harlem. Edgar Westermann had been in public life nearly two decades by then, working his painstaking, compromising way from district leader to City Councilmember to Borough President, trading votes and influence for playground repairs, a reopened firehouse, a dental clinic. He’d been trying to tell himself for years now that Corrington was dancing the same dance, just with a different set of steps.
    From the ambulance, the EMTs rattled out a gurney. The crowd’s attention swiveled that way. While Edgar stood weighing his choices, the NY1 News van rocketed around the corner. A cameraman jumped out and a reporter followed. Edgar turned back to Corrington. “You give Ms. Andersen my sympathy, and tell her I’ll be up as soon as she’s receiving.” Having discounted Corrington into a messenger, he spun on his heel and pushed back through the crowd to go meet the media.

CHAPTER
8
    City Hall
    The mayor swept a glance over the conference room. “Where’s Virginia?” he barked.
    “She’s aware of the meeting, Charlie.” Lena L’Nore, Charlie’s personal assistant since his Council days, spoke calmly. Lena was efficient, fiercely loyal, smooth with the press, and a hell of a looker. In fact, unless you counted as silly the faux-African spelling of her name, which the mayor would never be caught doing, she had no flaws.
    The mayor was a flawed man himself and the first to admit it. Lena’s perfection could get on his nerves. He snapped, “That wasn’t the question.”
    Lena did no more than raise an eyebrow. The mayor walked around her, poured himself coffee, and dropped into his chair. He always got his own coffee. He didn’t want to be accused of demeaning Lena’s professionalism. Not that she’d ever said a word, but years ago he’d overheard other Councilmembers’ secretaries muttering about their bosses. So he’d told Lena to knock off the coffee, she had better things to do. And for the price of a trip to the kitchenette, Councilmember Charlie Barr got known as a guy who respected women and the working class.
    Now, from the head of the table, Mayor Charlie Barr moved his glare around the room.
    Police Commissioner John Finn, large and ruddy, sat beside Lena, with another red-faced