Read The Stones Cry Out for Free Online Page B

FBI."
    I heard a chair scraping back, and the shape grew larger on the pebbly glass, coming forward like a dark shadow. When the door opened, I was holding up my ID.
    Detective Nathan Greene was a bit taller than me, about five-ten. His black Afro was cut short, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up. His forearm had a blue tattoo of an anchor. Navy guy, I decided.
    "What?" he said.
    “The Bureau conducting a civil rights investigation.”
    “And?”
    “And I need to ask you a couple questions. About your partner. Detective Falcon?"
    He turned, walking into the room, leaving the door open.
    I was getting used to it. I stepped inside, closing the door.
    The office had no windows. Just concrete blocks painted a depressing beige, like vanilla with no flavor. Two desks. One was empty, nothing on the surface. He sat behind the other one. I took the splintered oak chair that faced both desks. The chair looked like a cast-off from some elementary school closed for asbestos pipes. When I sat down, it squeaked.
    "Detective Falcon was your partner, is that right?"
    He gazed at me levelly. He had a thick black mustache, shaped like a bat in flight.
    Buying time, I opened my notebook and pretended to read the pages. "Police report said nobody saw Detective Falcon going into the building on Saturday.” I looked up. “And he didn't radio his location."
    The detective leaned back. I was perversely satisfied that his chair squeaked, too.
    “Do you have anything to say about that?” I asked.
    "Mike worked SWAT for eleven years. The only reason he quit was because his wife worried. So the guy gives up the take-downs, hoping to stay alive, and gets killed watching a bunch of cry-babies call themselves victims."
    "Which brings up another question.” I smiled. “Why would a veteran detective be working crowd control -- on a holiday weekend? Shouldn’t that be street patrol?"
    "Ask management. They're the ones pulling us for these dumb festivals. We also work backup for night cops."
    "Why?"
    "Manpower shortages."
    Phaup used the same excuse for closing cases before any work was done.
    "Were you working out there on Saturday?"
    "No. Mike pulled the weekend. I’ve got night cops."
    I didn’t like the expression in his eyes so I began flipping the notebook pages, buying time, hoping he'd warm up. But he didn’t, and I decided the best tactic was to play novice agent.
    "Here's what I don't get. Detective Falcon supposedly followed Holmes into that building, but he didn't radio anyone to say he was heading in?"
    "‘Supposedly’?"
    "Did I say that?”
    “Yes.”
    “Well, I think he followed Holmes in. I mean, why else go into an empty factory."
    He waited. Then: "But."
    "But he didn't tell anyone he was in pursuit? Why? If he followed Holmes in, it had to be for breaking and entering."
    His eyes were the color of cold tar.
    "The questions are a pain, I get it. But explain it to me so that it makes sense, okay?"
    "Mike would take care of it himself."
    "He was a cowboy?"
    "No, he had no problem working with people. But we only had four guys out there on crowd control, with six hundred angry people. Mike wouldn't haul somebody else into his problem. We’re detectives. That's how we work. Get things done instead of filing paper."
    I ignored the dig at the Bureau. Every cop knew we were one long food chain of government approval, even for the most minute movements.
    "And what about the roof?" I asked. "What happened up there?"
    "You want me to guess. I don't guess."
    "Try it one time."
    Detective Greene's face remained unreadable. He was probably very good at his job.
    "My gut feeling," he said finally. "Nothing more. You got that?"
    "Loud and clear."
    "After that guy broke into the building, I think Mike chased him. And I think that guy figured Mike wouldn't run all the way to the roof."
    "Why not?"
    "He wasn't in the best shape. After he quit SWAT, he got heavy."
    "But he chased him to the roof."
    "Right." He took a deep breath, blowing it