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can’t say as much for the goon who was keeping her company. He looks like a former hit man.”
    Lever coughed. “Drop the case, Rosco.” His voice was deadly serious.
    â€œYou know me better than that, Al. If someone tells me to drop a case, it’s the last thing I’m going to do … What went down with her son?”
    â€œThe official line is heart attack. Do yourself a favor, tell the lady you can’t help her, and go play some handball.”
    â€œThat’s from the M.E.? Heart attack?”
    Lever pulled the coroner’s report from a pending file on his desk and slid it toward Rosco.
    Rosco looked the report over and dropped it on Al’s blotter. “That’s pretty ambiguous wording Carlyle’s chosen. It sounds like he’s covering something. I’d like to have a look at the body … if that’s okay with you?”
    â€œYou’ll have to go through channels.”
    â€œOh, come on, Al,” Rosco moaned. “You know I can pull the paperwork. That’s not going to stop me. I’m working for a relative. I have a need-to-know. You slow me up by a day, maybe two. That’s it. Just walk down there with me. We save a little time. If everything’s kosher, I go home … play handball with the gang like you said.”
    Lever stood, walked over to the office door and locked it. He lit a cigarette, then moved to the window, stared out at the harbor and inhaled deeply.
    â€œYou mind if I smoke?” he asked.
    Rosco only smiled.
    â€œOkay, I’ll fill you in. But, dammit, Rosco, I want you to keep it between you and me. It doesn’t leave this office. I’m on thin ice here.”
    â€œI’m going to find out anyway.”
    Lever recognized the truth in this. He took another drag. “Briephs was strangled.”
    â€œWhat …?” Rosco sat up straight. “Al, come on, you guys can’t cover something like that. That’s not you. Thin ice is an understatement. You’re a good cop. You’re not going to—”
    â€œEasy. Easy,” Lever interrupted. “It’s not what you think … We found Briephs’ naked body spread-eagled and tied to his bed with nylon stockings. A fifth stocking around his neck. It was a sex game. You follow me? That’s all it was. Accidental death … With a prossy, most likely … You know Briephs’ uncle, the Senator, right?”
    â€œNot personally, but I’ve met his right-hand man—as of today.”
    â€œNot ten minutes after we informed Mrs. Briephs of her son’s death, the Senator’s pit bull, John Roth himself, is walking through that door. How he got here that fast, I’ll never know. The man’s a piece of work.”
    â€œMrs. Briephs didn’t mention anything about this stocking business—”
    â€œYou’re getting ahead of me. I never gave her a cause of death. We didn’t have the M.E.’s report compiled yet. I just told her his body had been found … things were being ‘handled’ … the usual … Anyway, ol’ Bulldog tells me the Senator doesn’t want news of his nephew ‘consorting’ with ‘unsavory characters’ to hit the papers. It being an election year and all.”
    â€œBut the Senator’s not here; he’s in Southeast Asia,” Rosco began, then added, “Why are you so sure he was with a hooker?”
    â€œYou never worked Vice, my friend. We used to pick Tommy-Boy up on a regular basis when we’d do a sweep for girls and johns down on Congress Street. He liked the rough ones, I can tell you that. And it was getting kinkier all the time, from what we heard. We kept it quiet. He contributed big time to the Police Athletic League … And don’t eye me like that. The League needs the money. You spent more time with the kids than anyone … Look, I know most of the girls on Congress. You want to poke