Lonnegan took a deep breath. “Death matches took place in some club or something—obviously this casino. That kid who calls himself the Infamous Black Tongue was one of the captives. Mendelberg,” Lonnegan said in a flat, affectless voice, “immediately clamped down on it. Shut them all up and marched them all off into protective custody in the old holding cells. She slapped a guard on them, wouldn’t let anyone near.”

“I’m not a lawyer,” the Angel said, “but she can’t do that.”

“She did.”

The Angel could see the tautness in Ray’s body suddenly disappear, just like that. “Mendelberg ran the investigation—or rather noninvestigation—on those joker kidnapping cases and as far as I can see, she did more to discourage investigation than encourage it.”

“Are you saying she covered it up?” Lonnegan asked. “That’s some serious shit.”

“Thing is,” Ray said, “we just don’t know. Apparently the only one in the precinct who felt strongly enough about it to buck her was Detective Black. We had our suspicions”—he glanced at the Angel—“but we knew that Black had to get solid dope on her if we had a hope in hell in making anything stick—”

“And then he blew it all up in our faces,” Lonnegan said. “That snot-nosed, jumped-up patrolman who got his detective badge way too early.”

“Favors?” Ray asked.

Lonnegan shrugged. “No one knows for sure. He’s not particularly popular around the station. He never really talks about it, but his dad was once the captain here—”

“John Francis X. Black,” Ray exclaimed. “Found dead in his office under mysterious circumstances on Wild Card Day 1986, wasn’t it?”

“Right.”

Ray whistled lowly. “Chri—ah, cripes. Talk about the good old days. I was here for that shit. Aces murdered. The Great And Powerful Turtle sunk in the East River. Aces High demolished. Armageddon threatened. Old dude found stuck halfway through a brick wall.” He shook his head. “No wonder the death of a police captain almost went unnoticed.”

“Water under the bridge,” Lonnegan said. “We’ve got our own problems to worry about. Our own missing captain to find.”

“Well,” Ray said, “all the signs point in the same direction, no?”

The others sighed, shook their heads with weariness, or rubbed tired eyes. It was Lonnegan who said it aloud.

“The Russian Mafia.”

Ray smiled, almost happily.

“So what more do we know about Talas, Ink?” she asked her aide.