Chapters (95)
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Eighty-Six
- Eighty-Seven
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by David Swinson
- Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.
My record and CD collection, laptop, and all the stereo equipment Hurley recovered from Thrift World are all nicely displayed on a rectangular foldout table. Everything is coated with fingerprint powder.
“You’re kidding me,” I say with excitement.
“Sorry about the mess. They had to dust for prints.”
“I can clean that up. Damn. It’s all mine. All my mom’s shit. Where did you find the records and the laptop?”
“Laptop on a search warrant and everything else in the trunk of a car. Obviously you know where we got the stereo equipment.”
I pick up one of the records, wipe the fine powder off with the palm of my hand.
“They don’t look warped,” I say. “I’m assuming you got an arrest.”
“Oh, yeah, bro. Willy Jasper.” He smiles from ear to ear.
“You serious? Fuck. Can you talk about it?”
“You still don’t have a television, huh?”
“No.”
“So that’s why I didn’t hear from you first. It’s all over the news, brother. He got arrested in the parking lot behind his club. Some anonymous call about a drug transaction. Officers get to the scene, are ready to clear it as a bad call when they find out he’s an officer they know, but Jasper leaves the front door open and a curious rookie looks under the seat from a distance—plain view—and makes a sweet discovery. I mean, we got a lot of powder cocaine, a gun that comes back to a burglary, bunch of cash, paraphernalia, and of course all this here.”
“No shit? You put your cuffs on him?”
“No. We didn’t find out he was locked up until the next day. After that we took it over. We hit his home and took everything. Cleaned his house out. Put it all on the book as suspected stolen property. All I have to do with your stuff is sign it over to you. I already took photos, and the AUSA approved it. Said the photos and you would be more than enough for court.”
“Joe, this is incredible news. They put a hold on him?”
“District court, baby. They held his ass. PWID while armed, receiving stolen property. Throw in the two from Riggs Street, and we’ll add conspiracy. His operation connects, Frank. It connects to everything.”
“Well, you are officially Supercop now.”
“Yeah, right. But we’re going to work it, tie him to everything else, I hope.”
“Great work, man.”
“We got lucky.”
Lucky. Yeah.
“What about the other cop who worked for him at the club?” I ask, referring to the one who gave me and Leslie the snake eye when we were on her stoop, the one I saw walking out of the club with Jasper that morning. “I got a feeling you wanna be looking at him, too.”
“We are. Don’t worry about that. He’s on administrative leave.”