The Frenzy Way Read Online Free PDF

safe man. Let me know when he gets there.” Closing his cell phone, Mace faced Landry. “Looks like we’ve got a shot at a possible motive. How’s that research coming?”
    “Crazy shit. I’ll get back to it now.” Landry exited the glass-faced office overlooking the detectives’ bull pen, occupied by half a dozen men, and returned to his adjoining office.
    Mace lifted the receiver of his telephone from its cradle and punched in a number.
    “Robbery,” a gruff voice answered on the second ring.
    “Captain Banks.”
    “Who’s calling?”
    “Captain Mace, Manhattan Homicide South.”
    “Just a minute.” The line turned silent until a moment later when a friendly voice came on. “Tony! I hear they’re making a TV movie about you now’.”
    Mace grimaced. Six years earlier a tabloid reporter named Carl Rice had written a third-rate true crime book about a high-profilehomicide case he had solved as a detective. Mace had neither cooperated in the writing of
Rodrigo Gomez: Tracking the Full Moon Killer
nor read the finished product, but when the quickie paperback had become a surprise best seller, he found that he’d become famous in certain circles, and he didn’t like it. Just when he thought his fellow officers had forgotten the book, a cable network announced its intentions to adapt it into a TV movie. The production company had even offered to let him serve as its technical advisor, but he had turned them down. “I didn’t know anything about it.”
    Banks chuckled. “Okay, okay. What can I do you for today,
Captain?”
    “I’ve got a major league bag of shit in the West Village. Looks like we have critical evidence locked in a safe that’s suffered some abuse. I need you to send your best safe man to Bedford Street ASAP.”
    “You need Robbins. I’ll have him at your location before lunch.”
    “If you say I need Robbins, then I need Robbins. But I need him now, not later.”
    “Can’t do it, Tony. He’s working a robbery at a restaurant in midtown.”
    “My homicide is going to be a shit storm the likes of which this department hasn’t seen in a decade. I’m talking about a lot of accountability here.”
    “Bust my balls, why don’t you? Consider Robbins reassigned.”
    “What about the restaurant?”
    “Have you ever eaten at one of those tourist traps? Fifteen bucks for a hamburger and fries. Fuck ’em.”
    “I appreciate it.”
    “Don’t mention it, brother. But if this potato is as hot as you say, stick to the book. Take it from me, you don’t need any problems with public perception when you’re new to your position.”
    The line went dead and Mace hung up. He reviewed the homicide reports from the previous night and this morning’s assignment sheets, then estimated the week’s overtime.
    Willy called his cell phone again. “The safe man cometh.”
    Mace looked at his wristwatch: almost 10:00. “Give me half an hour.”

    Mace parked his unmarked blue Chevy Impala at the mouth of Bedford. The RMPs had been joined by a camera van from New York One News, and a small crowd had formed on the sidewalk.
    It’s starting
, he thought. A neighbor had probably telephoned the cable news station. He turned off the Impala’s engine and got out. The ambulance and the van from the coroner’s office had departed, and the sun had been swallowed by clouds. Mace hoped the reporters faced a downpour. A strange energy balled at the base of his skull.
Anticipation?
    Crossing the street, he saw that new crowd control officers had replaced those on the scene earlier. The shift had changed at 0800 hours, and the patrol sergeant for the Sixth Precinct had decided to relieve his men and save on overtime. It was going to be a long day.
    Suzie Quarrel from CSU stood smoking a cigarette within the perimeter of the yellow crime scene tape but away from the male officers.
    Mace slipped through the crowd and ducked beneath crime scene tape that had been stretched from the building to two trees.
    A PO