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want—you know—coordinate things,” Liddell offered.
    â€œYeah. Leave the Cajun behind and scoot,” Carmodi said to Jack. “You’re ruining my normally pleasant demeanor.”
    Jack ignored the men and walked around the table, getting a good look at the boy’s face for the first time. His own face went white.
    â€œWhat’s the matter, Jack?” Liddell asked.
    Carmodi was staring at him also.
    â€œI know this kid,” Jack said.

C HAPTER E IGHT
    Mayor Thatcher Beauregard Hensley’s office wasn’t as spacious as he would have liked, but to move to a larger office he would have had to give up his private bathroom, and that would never do. His middle name, Beauregard, had come from a French great uncle on his mother’s side of the family. It meant “beautiful outlook.” Unlike his namesake, he had not seen any beauty in life, except what he could buy or control. So he had opted for commandeering the office next to his and had the wall replaced with thick soundproof glass and a heavy glass door. The stolen office was now his private conference room and made his domain look twice its original size.
    Mayor Hensley informed his secretary that he would not be taking calls and had her usher his waiting visitor into the conference room via a private and seldom-used entrance.
    Deputy Chief Richard Dick took a seat across from the mayor. Hensley forced a smile, and said, “What have you got for me, Richard?”
    â€œI think we may have an opportunity here, Mayor.”
    Dick outlined what he knew of the murders for the mayor, explaining how he felt the current chief had handled the investigations poorly. He omitted the fact that he, Richard Dick, was the commander of the investigations unit and had done nothing to solve the murders himself.
    Hensley smiled. “Malfeasance,” he said, as if tasting the word. “That might work, Richard. But what if this detective…”
    â€œMurphy. Jack Murphy,” Dick said.
    â€œSo what if this Detective…Murphy…catches the killers?”
    Dick made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Murphy’s not as good as he thinks he is.”
    â€œBut what if…?” the mayor persisted.
    â€œWell,” Dick said, “if he does, then you and I take the credit. But if he doesn’t…” He paused deliberately. “And God forbid there is another murder…well…I am the commander of the detective unit, and Chief Pope is breaking policy by not allowing me to run the investigation. If it blows up in his face, we can point that fact out in his dismissal hearing when you appoint me as the new chief of police.”
    â€œHas the chief ordered you not to work on these murders, Dick?” the Mayor questioned.
    Instead of answering, Dick shrugged and gave Hensley a sardonic smile.
    Hensley’s sources within the police department had told him that Dick wasn’t respected and that behind his back the men called him “Double Dick.” Obviously some play on his name, Richard Dick, but in any case it wasn’t good that he had no support within his own ranks. Dick was a bumbling, arrogant asshole, but he was a cunning asshole, too, and could be a useful ally. Hensley made a mental note to keep an eye on him and wondered if his choice of a new chief of police wasn’t made a little hastily.
    â€œKeep me informed, Deputy Chief,” the mayor said.
    Â 
    â€œYou know this child?” Carmodi asked.
    Jack stared at the face of the little boy. He’d first seen the kid about a month ago. It was one of those early mornings. The sun was not quite up, and Susan had gone for her run. He’d taken advantage of the quiet to make coffee and go out to his back porch to watch the threads of brilliant red and crimson colors spread across the horizon to the east. That’s when he heard someone down near the riverbank, cursing a blue streak. The voice sounded young.