Manhattan 62 Read Online Free PDF

fifty. The air of authority went with the big shoulders, the well-fed belly, the black hair; on his left pinky was an engraved gold signet ring. Family crest, perhaps. He had a face that told you nobody got in his way. He made it known right away that he was in charge and worked out of the Commissioner’s office. Strode up to me, hand out, though it was a perfunctory gesture.
    â€œLogan,” he said. “And you are Detective Wynne.”
    â€œI need to make a call.”
    â€œThanks for your help, Detective Wynne. You look done in, like you’d be glad to hit the sack just about now. We’re fine here, we have more men on their way, so, let me say thank you again for responding.”
    I tried not to let Logan rile me. “Will you be working this one, too?” I said.
    He stared at me, half irritated, a little amused. “I just came from your station house, Wynne. I have a message from your Lieutenant Murphy.”
    â€œWhat message?”
    â€œYou won’t be working this case. Murphy said to tell you.”
    â€œI think you got that wrong.”
    â€œI don’t get things wrong. You want to call Murphy? Please. Use my phone. Get Detective Wynne to my car,” he said to his driver who hovered near him like a servant waiting for orders. “Let him use the phone all he wants.”
    Logan towered over me, looking down as if he wanted to punch my face, but was holding himself back.
    â€œDetective, as I said, you won’t be working this case, so if you wouldn’t mind, please, just get your little car—it’s that banged-up little red second-hand Corvette, I believe—and go home. Your boss thinks you need a break. I spoke to him, and he says, Lieutenant Murphy says to me, ‘I agree, Wynne could use a break.’ Very accommodating your lieutenant, a man who understands how things are done. He said to tell you you’re off for the rest of the week. Take some time. Get a little rest. We already know this is a Mob hit. That’s how we’ll work it. Now, before you go, is there anything you want to tell us about this particular case? Anything you found? Anything you happened to pick up? Any evidence you might be squirreling away? I’ve seen your record. I know you like to get in on a case first, and sometimes that means keeping certain items to yourself.”
    â€œYou know all about me.”
    â€œYes, indeed. I know you worked that homicide on the High Line during the summer until it damn well wore you out and you started making mistakes.” I felt the bile rise. Logan was the kind of guy who made me want to punch somebody. If I punched Logan, they’d fire me. I’d wait.
    â€œThey’re connected,” I said. “That girl. This man.”
    â€œSo you say.”
    â€œJust who the hell are you?”
    â€œSpecial squad,” said Logan. “Not that it’s any of your business. But we take precedence. Call your boss, if you want. Call the chief, if you think it’s worth waking him up. Here’s my card, Wynne.”
    I looked at the card. Captain Homer M. Logan.
    â€œWhat kind of special squad?”
    â€œOn a need to know basis. You have no need,” he said. “Unless you have something to tell me. Or the kid, Tommy Perino, isn’t it? Father’s name is Giuseppe. A wop kid, on his way to a record. You don’t want to see him in some facility for juvenile deliquents, do you? He lives in your building over on Hudson Street? Maybe he stole something from the scene. I could send somebody by.”
    â€œHe didn’t take anything.”
    â€œWell, that’s copacetic then, wouldn’t you say?” He turned to the young cop who was his driver. “Officer Garrity, take the detective to my car, let him use the radio. You hear me?”
    â€œYessir.”
    Cold rain had begun falling. I followed Garrity, the young cop in the brown sack suit, no coat, to the car, and out of earshot