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.He pounded on the door this time. Mr.Masers? New York Police.Open the door. Rob looked over athim, and Miguel could feel the cobwebs across his skin again.Theycould call in for the DA to get them a warrant, but that would take time.Suddenly, Miguel was certain that they didn t have time. Do you hear someone calling? Miguel asked.He stared at Rob,willing the man to just bend his rules a little bit just this once. I m not playing those games. Just fucking&.I m not asking you to clear a fucking parkingticket.Hell, if you want, you can write me up later for having badfucking hearing, but I hear someone calling.That sounds like anexigent circumstance to me.So, do you hear someone calling?Miguel nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice called downthe stairwell. Help, man.The fucking perv in 116 has me in his littleperv shithole. Clearly their gangbanger neighborhood watch hadn tgone all that far. I m going to find him and bust his ass so hard that he ll belimping to the fucking post office to pick up his social security checkswhen he s sixty, Rob muttered with an angry glare up the stairs, but heturned his back to the door and raised his leg for a mule kick. NewYork Police.Open or we re coming in! You have five seconds.204 | Lyn GalaMiguel pulled his weapon out and moved to cover Rob.The mulekick was the best way to get through the door without going back to thecar for the small battering ram they carried in the trunk; however, it leftRob damn vulnerable if their suspect was armed.Miguel gave Rob anod, and Rob slammed into the door just below the lowest lock.Therewas a sharp crack, but the door held until Rob gave it two more kicks,and then he had to catch himself on the doorjamb when the door finallygave.While Rob ducked to the side and pulled his weapon, Miguelrushed the entry and swept the small, dirty living room.The shadeswere pulled all the way down, and the corners of the apartment werepiled high with trash and old newspapers.Rob came in behind him;they worked in tandem to cover the kitchen and bedroom. Fucking&. Rob s voice trailed off.Miguel reversed direction,but at the doorway, he stopped, his stomach sinking in horror.Afamiliar wooden trapdoor cover sat in the middle of the floor, tiltedagainst the bed.The suspect hadn t bothered to even try and hide thedark hole in the floor that led downward. The basement.Rob turned and pushed past Miguel, already yelling for their littleobserver. Where s the basement? Where? By the time Miguel got tothe hall, the kid was pointing toward the back and Rob was alreadyrunning.Miguel pulled his radio and focused on keeping Rob in sightas he called in to dispatch for emergency backup. Shit.Shit, shit, shit. Rob came out of a cluttered mechanicalroom and shoved his weapon back into the holster. The tunnel comesout in there, but no Masers in sight.Miguel took a second to update dispatch on their situation beforehe thumbed his radio off and put it away along with his weapon. Another of those damn bolt holes. Yep.We should have fucking torn this building apart looking forthem.We knew Masers was in here. And we knew he had an alibi, although this does explain why thelocals never saw him leave. Shit. Rob turned and headed back up the basement stairs.Frustration did not make him particularly eloquent.Urban Shaman | 205 You catch the little freak? the boy asked Rob.From the way thekid physically retreated, Miguel could just imagine the glare Rob wasgiving him. Does he have a car, friends in the area, a favorite bus stop? Robdemanded.The kid shrugged, and then threw his hands up in surrender. Noman, seriously, I don t know.He never left his apartment.I swear! He sin there all the fucking time.I never see him go anywhere! He trippedover his own feet trying to get out of Rob s way, but Rob just ignoredhim, heading for the front door.Rob stopped outside, scanning the street, and Miguel followed. Dispatch alerted Metro-North station sent his mug shot over.Wemight get lucky at a bus stop, he offered. Lucky. Rob spit the word out, making it pretty damn clear thathe didn t consider any of this lucky. This is still more of a lead than we ve had since catching thecase.So, do you want to head east or west? Miguel asked, looking upand down Washington.More faces had gathered at windows. Rob.Miguel poked a thumb up toward the watchers.Rob took a second to search the windows, his expressionthoughtful. Do you think they re going to talk to you? Only one way to find out. With a smile, Miguel darted betweenthe parked cars and used a gap in traffic to race across the road to thetenement where most of the watchers were.Faces immediatelydisappeared from the windows, but Miguel had an inexplicable sense ofhope that one of them would answer his knock.He trotted up the steps,avoiding a crumbling chunk of concrete before he pulled the door open.He caught only a brief flash of movement, a moment of confusion, andthen his brain recognized the perfect circle and the glint of light off thedull metal of a gun barrel.His hand went for his own weapon, but apanicked voice screamed at him. Don t! Don t move! I ll blow your head off! I ll blow yourfucking head off! Why couldn t you just leave me alone?! Carl Masersscreamed, his voice cracking oddly.206 | Lyn GalaMiguel froze, his hand too far from his weapon to do him anygood. Now let s calm down, he suggested softly.Shit [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]