“What I don’t understand is where she gets off leaving me. Kavitha, I mean. I mean, I’m the wounded party. She’s the one who hid her brother from me … us. If we’d had that information what happened to you … well, it might not have happened.”

“I guess people’s first instinct is to protect the ones they love,” Franny said and he found himself thinking about Baba Yaga and Tolenka and Ray and his wife.

“Yeah, maybe.” Michael fell silent for a moment then added, “The bed just feels really lonely right now.”

“Wait, I thought you said Minal was still there?”

“Yeah, but I’m used to getting snuggled from both sides,” the detective said with a sigh.

Franny forced a smile when what he really wanted to do was deck Michael. The man was down to just one hot babe in his bed and was whining while Franny didn’t even have a girlfriend. He found his thoughts straying to the young English ace and actress, Abigail Baker. He’d had the hots for her ever since he’d first found her naked on the sidewalks of Jokertown. He had even been pathetic enough to help her deal with her ex-boyfriend Croyd Crenson when the guy had been in one of his sleep-deprived psychotic rages. How much more of a sap could he possibly be?

He went back to cross-checking the list of clients with anybody who might have had the training to construct an incendiary device, or access to the materials used in this particular device. Once again the cruel irony of life struck Franny. Somebody gets fucked by their insurance company, acts out, and was now facing a murder rap. Franny was sure their unknown perp hadn’t intended to kill Ben Wilson, but that had been the outcome.

Just like I hadn’t intended to unleash hell on earth. But he had, and what did it matter if they ever caught Wilson’s killer? In just a few more days Wilson would be just one corpse among thousands. Maybe millions. Sickened, Franny pushed back from his desk, the crooked wheels on his chair chattering like skeleton teeth on the stained linoleum.

“I’m gonna get some lunch. Want to come?” he asked Michael.

“Nah, I promised Minal I’d meet her for lunch. She’s pretty upset, too.”

Franny had managed to get a temporary ID, money, and a new phone. His replacement badge was going to take five working days. At which point it wouldn’t fucking matter.

He stood on the sidewalk, bounced the phone, and dithered. He finally dialed Abby’s number.