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little.
    Paquette didn’t know what he meant, so Dougherty said, “Nittolo’s, you ever been there? The Italians.”
    â€œNo, I haven’t worked the west end,” Paquette said. His English was good and he didn’t seem to have a problem using it with Dougherty even though they were the same rank and probably the same age.
    Dougherty said, “You ever work St. Leonard?”
    â€œA little, not much.”
    â€œIt’s the same guys,” Dougherty said. “They have the motel and restaurant, Nittolo’s, and the garden centre, they do a lot of landscaping and snow removal in the winter, around here and Westmount.”
    Paquette said, “Nice,” but he didn’t seem too interested.
    â€œAre you working the hold-up squad now?”
    â€œYeah, for a couple of months.”
    Dougherty wanted to ask what he’d been doing before that, how he got to be a detective, but he felt stupid just making conversation, and as the silence dragged on, he realized he was worried Paquette was competition and he didn’t like feeling that way.
    The senior detectives came out of Peg’s office then, and Paquette said, “I wonder what they said to them?” He wasn’t expecting an answer, and Dougherty didn’t say anything.
    They walked across the parking lot and, as they got closer, Dougherty heard Laperrière say, “Run a line on the pay phone.”
    Ste. Marie said, “You want to start someone on the paperwork?” He nodded a little and Dougherty thought he should step forward and volunteer, but then he realized Ste. Marie meant Paquette.
    Laperrière said, “Off the books for now. Okay, let’s go.”
    Caron started around the car, saying to Dougherty, “You know Motel Rapha ë l?”
    Dougherty got in the car and waited while Caron said something to Ste. Marie and then he got in, too, saying, “You know those guys?” looking back at Peg’s.
    â€œI know Higgins a little,” Dougherty said.
    He pulled out onto St. Jacques at the back end of the convoy of unmarked cars.
    â€œThe more pressure we put on them,” Caron said, “someone’s going to want to talk, save his own ass, maybe make a little money — we have some to spend.”
    â€œSnitch money?”
    â€œA little more,” Caron said. “The bank is going to give us some cash.”
    Dougherty nodded. “That’s good.”
    â€œYou got any guys you want to talk to?”
    â€œMaybe,” Dougherty said.
    No one at Motel Rapha ë l had anything to say, and then Laperrière decided that was enough for the first night, they’d hit Nittolo’s and the Cavalier the next day.
    Dougherty went home, thinking that somehow he’d lost his spot in the starting lineup.
----
    The old man working the night desk at the Cavalier Motel had never heard of any Brink’s truck robbery or any bank robberies. They searched all rooms, two floors’ worth, and didn’t find anything except used rubbers under every bed.
    Caron said, “Don’t they clean these rooms?”
    â€œIn and out,” Dougherty said.
    Same thing at the West-End Motel and the Belvedere.
    Ste. Marie looked at his watch and said, “
Bon, c’est le temps des visites à domicile.
”
    In the car Caron was singing, “We’ve got us a great big convoy, rocking through the night,” as the half-dozen cop cars pulled out onto St. Jacques and headed up Cavendish towards Sherbrooke. “We got us a great big convoy, ain’t she a beautiful sight.”
    Dougherty said, “You the rubber duck?”
    Caron laughed, “What’s your 10-4, Pig Pen?”
    Ten minutes later they passed the campus of Loyola College, now part of Concordia University, and Dougherty wondered if they had evening classes out here in the suburbs like the downtown campus in the old Y building, but he doubted it, not out here with the big lawn