“There never is, with Quigley. What did he say?”

A twitchy shrug. “Just some crap about the emperor not wearing as many clothes as he thinks, and pride goes before a fall. It didn’t even make any sense.”

I wished I had smacked that little shit down harder when he gave me the chance. “And?”

“And nothing. That’s when I got rid of him. He was giving it ‘Slow and steady does it’; I asked him why slow and steady wasn’t doing it for him. He didn’t like that.”

It startled me, the small ridiculous dart of warmth at the thought of this kid fighting my corner. I said, “And that’s not why you were worried that I was jumping the gun with Conor Brennan.”

“No! Man, that was nothing to do with Quigley. Nothing.”

“It’d better not be. If you think Quigley’s on your side, you’re in for a big shock. You’re young and promising, which makes it your fault that he’s a middle-aged loser. Given the choice, I’m not sure which of us he’d throw under a bus first.”

“I know that, too. That fat fuck told me the other day I might feel more at home back in Motor Vehicles, unless I have too many emotional connections with suspects there. I don’t listen to anything he says.”

“Good. Don’t. He’s a black hole: get too close and he’ll drag you down with him. Always stay far away from negativity, old son.”

“I stay far away from useless pricks. He’s not dragging me anywhere. How the hell is he on this squad?”

I shrugged. “Three possibilities: he’s related to someone, he’s shagging someone, or he’s got something on someone. Take your pick. Personally, I figure if he was connected I’d know by this time, and he doesn’t look like much of a femme fatale to me. That leaves blackmail. Which gives you another good reason to leave Quigley alone.”

Richie’s eyebrows went up. He said, “You think he’s dangerous? Seriously? That thick bastard?”

“Don’t underestimate Quigley. He’s thick, all right, but not as thick as you’re thinking, or he wouldn’t be here. He’s not dangerous to me—or to you, for that matter, as long as you don’t do anything stupid—but that’s not because he’s a harmless idiot. Think of him as the gastric flu: he can make your life smell pretty bad and he takes forever to shake off, so you try to avoid him, but he can’t do you any serious damage, not unless you’re weak already. Here’s the thing, though: if you’re vulnerable, if he gets a chance to take hold, then yeah. He could be dangerous.”

“You’re the boss,” Richie said cheerfully—the image had made him happy, even if he still didn’t sound particularly convinced. “I’ll stay away from Diarrhea Man.”

I didn’t bother trying not to grin. “And that’s the other thing. Don’t go poking him with sticks. I know the rest of us do it, and we shouldn’t either, but we’re not new boys. No matter how much of an arse Quigley is, giving him cheek makes you look like an uppity little brat—not just to him, but to the rest of the squad. You’re playing straight into Quigley’s hands.”