Part 306 (1/2)

”I need red meat.”

”I'll buy you a steer,” Michael said as he walked back into the squad

room.

”You know, partner, this whole business has ruined your sense of humor,

And my appet.i.te. Blackpool's a big star. He does beer commercials, for

Christ's sake. You're not going to tie him to a twenty-year-old case.”

”Maybe not, but I'm down to eight names.” He sat at his desk and pulled

out a cigarette. ”Somebody stole my d.a.m.n Pepsi.”

”I'll call a cop.” McCarthy leaned over. ”Mike, no fooling around,

you're pus.h.i.+ng this too hard.”

”Looking out for me, Mac?”

”I'm your G.o.dd.a.m.n partner. Yeah, I'm looking out for you, and I'm

looking out for myself. If we have to go out on the streets while

you're strung out like this, you're not going to back me up.”

Through a veil of smoke, Michael studied his partner. His voice, when

he spoke, was dangerously soft. ”I know how to do my job.”

It was a tender area. McCarthy was well aware of the razzing Michael

had taken his first years on the force. ”I'm also your friend, and I'm

telling you, if you don't ease off for a few hours, you're not going to

do anybody any good. Including your lady.”

Slowly, Michael unclenched his fists. ”I'm getting close. I know it.

It's not like it was twenty years ago. It's like it was yesterday, and

I was there, right there going over every step.”

”Like your old man.”

”Yeah.” He braced his elbows on the desk to scrub his hands over his

face. ”I'm going crazy.”