"No, he wasn't."

"You are sure it was suicide, right?"

"That is correct."

"And the case is closed?"

"Right again."

I leaned back away from him.

"Then that really bothers me."

Why is that?"

"Because you're trying to have it both ways. You're telling me the case is closed, yet I can't look at the records.

If it is closed, then I should be allowed to look at the case because he was my brother. And if it's closed, that means that, as a reporter, I can't compromise an ongoing investigation by looking at the records, either."

I let him digest that for a few moments. "So," I finally continued, "going by your own logic, there is no reason why I shouldn't be able to look at the records."

Scalari looked at me. I could see the anger working behind his cheeks now.

"Listen to me, jack, there are things in that file better left not known, and certainly not published."I I'm a better judge of that, Detective Scalari. He was my brother. My twin. I'm not going to hurt him. I'm just trying to make sense of something for myself. If I then write about it, it will be to finally put it in the ground with him. Okay?"

We sat there staring at each other for a long moment. It was his turn and I waited him out.

"I can't help you," he said finally. "Even if I wanted to.

It's closed. Case is closed. The file went to records for processing. You want it, go see them."

I stood up.

"Thanks for telling me at the beginning of the conversation."

I walked Out without saying another word. I had known Scalari would blow me off. I went to him because I had to go through the motions and because I wanted to see if I could learn the location of the file. I went down the stairs that mostly only cops used anti into the office of the department's administrative captain. it was fifteen minutes past, twelve so the desk in the reception area was empty. I walked past it, knocked on the door and heard a voice tell me to enter.

Inside, Captain Forest Grolon sat behind his desk. He was such a large man that the standard issue desk looked like child's furniture. He was a dark-complected black man with a shaven head. He stood to shake my hand and I was reminded that he topped out above six and a half feet. I figured a scale would have to have 300 on its dial if it were going to take his full measure. I shook his hand and smiled. He had been a source of 'Mine since I was on the daily police beat six years earlier and he was a patrol sergeant. We had both risen through the ranks since then.

"Jack, how's it going? You say you're just back?"

"Yeah, I took some time. I'm okay."

He didn't mention my brother. He had been one of the few at the funeral and that made it clear how he felt. He sat back down and I took one of the chairs in front of his desk.