George Pelecanos - Right as Rain

'Bullshit'

'Just trying to explain it to you, how it was.'

'Bullshit,' said Quinn, a catch in his voice. 'What happened next?'

'Wilson was surveilling now in his street clothes, by the Junkyard and on the corners. I guess that's when he got those pictures of me. He knew he couldn't go up against Coleman's army himself, and he didn't know who to trust anymore inside the department. But by now he was all fucked up over his sister, and he was gettin' out of control. He threatened Delgado outside of Erika's one night. He threatened me.'

'You and Delgado went to Coleman.'

'Delgado did. They decided to get rid of Chris Wilson. For Delgado, it was easy. By then I'd found out he'd killed before for Coleman. It didn't matter what I knew at that point; I was damn near one of them. They wanted me all the way in, locked in for real.'

'They wanted you to kill Wilson.'

'That's right.' Franklin dropped the towel at his feet. A drop of blood burst from his cut and trickled down his cheek.

'They had Kane call Wilson out?'

Franklin nodded. 'Kane told Wilson he'd gotten his sister back. To meet him on D Street at a certain time. They knew Wilson would lose it when he got there and found Kane alone. I drove us up on the scene. You know what happened next.'

'You tell me, Eugene. You tell me what happened next.'

'I never shot a man. Never even shot at one, Terry. I had my gun out and I had it pointed at him, but-'

'Why didn't you shoot him, Eugene?'

'Because you shot him first.'

Quinn looked down at the gun in his hand. 'You knew I would.'

'No, I didn't know. But I knew you were more capable of it than I was. And I knew

'What?'

'I knew you. I knew what you'd see when you saw Chris Wilson holding a gun on Ricky Kane.'

Quinn raised the gun to his hip, pointing it at Franklin on the couch. Franklin's lip trembled, and his eyes filled with tears.

'You won't do it, Terry. There's a part of me that wishes you would. But you won't.'

'You're right,' said Quinn, and he moved the muzzle of the Glock, pointing it at the pad on the table. 'Write it out. All of it, Gene. Go ahead. I'm going to disgrace you to your family, and your fellow cops, and to all the folks you came up with over in Northeast. They're all gonna know what a lowlife you are. And I'm gonna make good and goddamn sure your fellow inmates know you used to wear the uniform when they haul your ass to jail.'

'I'm sorry, man.'

'Fuck you, Eugene. Fuck your apologies, too. Write it down.'

Franklin wrote a full confession out on the yellow pad, signed and dated the bottom of the last page, and dropped the pen when he was done.

'I'd like to talk to my father before this makes the news,' said Franklin. 'When are you going to turn this in?'

'After we get the girl home.'

'She's not in D.C.'

'I know it,' said Quinn. 'Me and Strange, we were out there today. We followed those rednecks out to their property, where they're keeping her.'

Franklin dabbed at the cut on his temple. The bleeding had stopped, and he lowered the towel. 'I'm going to be there with Delgado tomorrow night.'

'Why?'

'We're dropping off money and bringing back a load of drugs.'

'Thought you never had to do anything but drive around the block.'

'We met with Coleman earlier,' said Franklin. 'Those rednecks you followed, the Boones: the short one's named Ray, and his father's name is Earl. They killed a couple of Colombian mules, out at that property. Coleman wants us to kill the Boones, to make himself right with the Colombians.'

'What about the girl?'

'They didn't mention the girl, maybe because they knew I wouldn't like what they had to say. Delgado used to hit it himself, and he still has her on his mind. He starts killin', though, I don't see him stopping until everyone's put to sleep.'

'And you'll do what?'

'I can't shoot anybody, Terry. I already told you-'

'This is going down tomorrow night?'

'I'm meeting Delgado at eight… That would put us out there near nine o'clock. They're going to pick us up somewhere else, then drive us back to the place.'

'There's a barn and a house there.'

'Yeah. Coleman says the Boones like to do business in the barn. They got a full bar in there; it's set up like one of those old-time casinos or some shit like that.'

'Sondra stays in the house?'

'Far as I know.'

Quinn holstered the Glock in the waistband of his jeans. 'Tomorrow night, you keep them all in the barn, hear? Give me and Strange the chance to get Sondra Wilson out of that house.'

'What am I gonna do when Delgado starts all that killin'?'

'I don't care what you do. It makes no difference to me.' Quinn picked up the legal pad off the coffee table and slipped his pen into the breast pocket of his shirt. 'Whatever you decide to do tomorrow night, I want you to know it won't change what I'm going to do with this.'

'I didn't think it would.'

'So long, Gene.'

Quinn walked away. The door clicked closed behind him.

Strange was sleeping on the couch when the doorbell buzzed. Greco's barking woke him up. Strange opened the front door after checking the peephole. Quinn stood on the porch, his breath visible in the night.

'I got it,' said Quinn, holding up Franklin's confession for Strange to see.

'Fill me in on what I don't know,' said Strange.

Quinn told him everything, standing there.

When Quinn was done, Strange said, 'Tomorrow night, then.'

And Quinn said, 'Right.'

Strange hit the intercom-system buzzer on his desk and spoke into its mic: 'Janine?'

'Yes, Derek,' came the crackly reply.

'Come on in here a minute, will you?'

Strange leaned over, picked up a package, a padded, legal-sized envelope, off the floor, and placed it on his desk. In the package, addressed to Lydell Blue at the Fourth District Station, was the full evidence file Strange had collected on the Wilson case.

Strange had come in early that morning, made Xerox copies of the evidence, and dropped the duplicate package in the mail, addressed to himself. Next he'd called his attorney and confirmed that his will was up to date. He had filled his attorney in on the whereabouts of his modest life insurance policy, for which he had named Janine and Lionel joint beneficiaries.

Janine Baker came into the room.

'Hi,' said Strange.

'Hi.'

'I'm gonna be gone for the rest of the day, maybe a little bit into tomorrow.'

'Okay,' said Janine.

'You need me, you can get me on my beeper.'

'Just like always. Nothing unusual about that.'

'That's right. Nothin' unusual at all.' Strange rubbed an itch on his nose. 'How's Lionel doin'?'

'He's doing well.'

'Listenin' to you, gettin' all his homework done, all that?'

'He's got his moments. But he's fine.'

'All right then.' Strange leaned forward and tapped the padded envelope on his desk. 'You don't hear any different from me, say by noon tomorrow, I want you to take this package here and drop it in the mailbox, understand?'

'Sure.'

'Keep it in the safe until then. There's another package like it, will be coming here, in the mail, a couple days from now. When it arrives, I want you to put that one in the safe.'

'Okay.'

'You got the billing done for Leona Wilson?'

'Soon as you tell me you've concluded the case, it'll be done.'

'It's done. Bill her for eight more hours, and don't forget to add in all those receipts I collected in the way of expenses, too.'

'I'll do it.'

'Good. I guess we're all set.' Strange got up from his chair, took his leather off the coat tree, and shook himself into the jacket. He walked up close to Janine and glanced at the open office door. 'Ron out there?'