“You can see why you didn’t read about it in the papers,” Dino said, taking the note back. He took a pack of matches from an ashtray on the bar, lit the note, watched it burn. “You know something? I went to confession. I didn’t go to confession since I was fourteen, but I went yesterday. As part of my penance, I had to tell you this stuff. I didn’t do the rest of the penance; I’m not going to. But I wanted to do this part.”

“Thanks, Dino, I know what it cost you.”

“Don’t be so fucking nice about it, Stone. I wouldn’t have said a word to you, but I know you won’t say nothing to nobody about this.”

Stone nodded.

“I always been good at looking out for my own ass,” Dino said. “Sometimes I fall in the shit, but I come up smelling like a rose, you know?”

Stone laughed. “I know.”

“Nah, you don’t know. I made detective first grade today. Ain’t that a kick in the balls? I get a promotion I would have killed for—” He stopped and laughed ironically. “Shit, I guess I did kill for it, didn’t I?”

“Congratulations, Dino.” Stone raised his glass.

Dino drank with him. “They made me deputy squad commander, too. Leary’s retiring the end of the year, and I’m getting the job, Delgado says.”

“That’s great, Dino,” Stone said, but it was a statement of sympathy.

“Yeah, get me off the street some, I guess. Teach me a sense of responsibility.”

“You’ll be good at it. Look out for the politics, though.”

“What politics? I’m not going anywhere after that. I’m never going to be chief of detectives—they know it, and I know it. Shit, I never expected to make detective first, to tell the truth. Nah, there’s no politics to worry about. I’m bought and paid for. I’ll do what I’m told and like it.”

Stone couldn’t think of anything to say.