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involved in Rusty’s previous fraud case. "This is déjà vu from hell. I might as well just surrender now."
    "This is a very serious case you have yourself involved with. This is Murder One. That means this case will receive heavy attention from more than just the Crown Prosecutor, or the press or from the Homicide Division. And you are definitely a celebrity now as well.  So I think it's time to give some serious thought as to how you want to defend yourself.  And please don't ever call Ludd an asshole in public even if it was completely true. He's an icon to most people. Better loved than Mickey Mouse."
    "Defend? Jayne, I'm just a guy trying to get his life back to normal. I'm a rookie salesman on probation for God's sake. First week on the job, they haul me away. I live out of one bedroom, all my worldly possessions fit in the trunk of my car. I'm just a guy who's having a hell of a time escaping the shadow of Jeffrey Ludd. It's like he's toppled over and fallen right on top of my life. This is crazy. I can see them suspecting me because of that 'theft of company secrets' case a few years ago ... and our obvious love for each other, but how the hell do they get away with arresting me for murder?"
    "They have evidence."
    "Evidence?" Rusty's face turned the color of skim milk. "That's ridiculous ... what evidence?"
    "It's not a lot. But they've got Ludd's day calendar from his office computer." She pulled out a copy of the arrest report and scanned it with a gold Cross pen. "And just an hour or two before they placed the time of his death, you apparently both had dinner together."

CHAPTER 10
     
    Kozak and Otter had known each other for a decade and worked Homicide as a team for a little over two years. Koz was thinner now. And Otter knew why - the old guy just wouldn’t eat. Otter could put away five donuts a day easily while his partner sipped black coffee, his ten-year-old suits hanging off his bones.
    Otter tried to act like nothing was coming down but he was a cop for Christ sake . And by the end of a shift he would be sweaty with frustration. But what could he do? He respected Koz, admired his determination. That he even gave a shit after 24 years on the force was a miracle of will. Add to that a struggling ticker that required a nitroglycerine pill every time a siren went off, and what have you got? A .38 in the mouth on Saturday night after a twelve pack of Moosehead beer? Or you contain it and just patiently wait for the big one? How did the guy hold up? What kept him going? It sure as hell wasn't the coffee at Donut Heaven .
    "You act like you know this guy Redfield?" Otter asked, chewing on a honey cruller.
    Kozak swallowed hard, his mouth full of coffee and blueberry compote. Otter was so happy to see him eat he forgot what a bad mood he was in. "I was in Vice. We arrested Redfield and an associate for possession and fraud a couple of years ago. The other perp, Grieves, the one that Rosenblatt mentioned, got two years."
    "And Redfield?"
    "Walked. Dimbrowsky let him be excused. They don't call him Dimmy for nothin'."
    "Dropped, eh?"
    "Like a warm kidney stone."
    "Any idea why?"
    "Yeah. Probably wanted McEwan off his back. She was tearing him a new one and for some reason he didn't feel he needed a backup."
    Otter sipped his coffee, his eyes on Koz who once told him he sounded like a sump pump that needed service. "I know Dimmy. He could use two. Is this the famous McEwan from Quinn?" asked Otter.
    "Not anymore. She's gone over to a smaller pack of weasels. Partner now. Still eats them alive, but at two-fifty an hour."
    "Something to look forward to," mused Otter.
    Kozak sat up like he just got a little adrenaline rush. Otter hoped it was the muffin. "You know, some lawyers on cross, like Quinn, they're tough. But they still have a tee off date on Sunday with the judge, so they fade and draw a little. McEwan, she don't play golf. She don't play period. Had a tough childhood, I hear. Likes to take it out on