Part 82 (1/2)
”Yeah. Sure.”
”I guess she doesn't get to do that much.”
”What?”
”The little kid. Emma. I guess she doesn't get to go to McDonald's.”
”No.” Lou ruffled his boy's hair. ”I guess not.”
It took only a few minutes to get Michael settled in with a
cheeseburger, fries, and a shake. Lou left his son in the booth to call
in. From the phone outside the window he could see Michael dousing more
ketchup on the burger. ”Kesselring,” he said. ”I'll be in the station
in an hour.”
”I got some bad news for you, Lou.”
”What else is new?”
”It's Fletcher, your pizza man.”
”Didn't he make it into L.A.?”
”Yeah, he made it in. Sent a couple of uniforms to pick him up this
morning for questioning. Seems they were about six hours too late. He'd
been dead that long.”
”s.h.i.+t.”
”Looks like a standard 0D. He had the works and some top-grade heroin.
We're waiting on the coroner's report.”
”That's great. That's tucking great.” He slammed a hand against the
wall of the booth, hard enough to make a mother hurry her three children
by. ”Have the lab boys been over his hotel room?”
”Top to bottom.”
”Give me the address.” He fumbled for his notebook. ”I have to drop my
kid at home, after that I'll have a look.”