Pipe Dream Read Online Free PDF

and the gun holster into the sewer. But he stuck the gun back into his underwear.
    Rock, like everyone else in the car, knew that Leroy had just taken his heart—humiliated him in front of a woman. He couldn’t leave a slight like that unanswered. Not ever. So, while he realized that it would have been stupid to kill Leroy at that moment and in that place, Rock knew that when his chance came, he’d take it. He was one of the big boys now. He was a killer. And in his mind, he couldn’t allow anyone or anything to return him to the status of a mere piper.
    “Come on,” Pookie said, interrupting Rock’s thoughts.
    “Shut up, Pookie,” Rock said as he opened the back door and got in the car.
    Satisfied that Rock had thrown the gun and the I.D. into the sewer, Leroy pulled off, just as the police car that had passed them a moment before turned on its dome lights and made a U-turn.
    When Leroy looked in his rearview mirror and saw that the cop was following him, he floored it.
     
    Officer Harry Flannagan, a rookie assigned to the 39th District, had lucked out and been assigned to work steady last out, the midnight to eight A.M. shift that was coveted by most officers because it allowed for a somewhat regular life. That’s if being a constant target for bad guys with better guns can be viewed as regular.
    He learned during his first two months of duty that the things that happened on last out—burglaries, murders, and the like—weren’t discovered until the morning shift. And that shift, he learned, was manned by pissed-off guys who had to rotate every two weeks between eight to four and four to midnight. They weren’t like him, guys who slept on one schedule and saw their wives regularly. More often than not, the day-shift guys were the type of cops who would sooner bust somebody’s head than give them a ticket.
    Flannagan, on the other hand, was the type of guy who loved people. He distributed more warnings than tickets, and he generally gave people a break whenever he could. So when he passed three guys and a girl in a car that was parked on the side of the street, he figured they were just having some fun. And when he looked in his rearview mirror and saw a guy get out of the car and throw some stuff down the sewer, he wasn’t immediately suspicious. But he took a second look when he saw the guy coming back to the car trying to stuff something in his waistband. And when Harry Flannagan had to take a second look, he knew it was always for a good reason.
    Flannagan hung a U-turn and picked up his handset to call for backup just as a message went out over the police radio for East and Northwest divisions.
    “Cars, stand by,” a dispatcher said. “Committed at Park Avenue and Pike Street within the last five minutes, a founded shooting. Suspects may have fled from Broad and Erie in a vehicle. No flash. All units use extreme caution when . . .”
    In the middle of the message, the car Flannagan was trying to stop suddenly darted toward Hunting Park Avenue. Flannagan couldn’t wait for the dispatcher to drone on anymore.
    “3910, priority!” Flannagan screamed into his handset to make it known that he had an emergency. “I’m in pursuit of a brown Impala, Pennsylvania license tag Tom Edward X-ray Andy Nathan, west on Erie from 21st.”
    “3910 is in pursuit of a brown Impala, license tag, TEXAN, west on Erie from 2-1,” the dispatcher repeated. “3910, occupants?”
    “Three black males, one black female, wanted for investigation at this time,” Flannagan said loudly.
    “What’s your location?”
    “West on Hunting Park from 2-7.”
    “39A, put me in, I’m at 2-6 and Hunting Park,” the sergeant said, joining the chase.
    “396, put me in, I’m at 2-8 and Pike, approaching Hunting Park.”
    “3910, I’m going north on Henry from Hunting Park.”
    The brown Impala turned at Roberts Avenue, and Flannagan skidded around the corner in pursuit.
    “East on Roberts from Henry,” Flannagan screamed