"I don't know if you are some nut or not. Let me see some ID."

We were going over the cliff. I took out my wallet and gave him my driver's license, press card. and DPD police pass. He eyed them all closely but I knew he had already decided to listen to the story. There was something about Brook's death that made Washington want to listen to a story from a reporter he didn't even know.

"Okay," he said as he handed the IDs back. "So you're legit. It still doesn't mean I have to believe a word you say.

"No. But I think you believe it already."

"Look, you going to tell your story or not? Don't you think if there was something not right that I'd be on the fucking thing like ... like-What do you know about it, anyway?"

"Not much. Just what was in the papers."

Washington stubbed the cigarette out on the side of the trash can and then dropped the butt in.

"Hey, Jack, tell your story. Otherwise, do me a big favor and just get the fuck out of here."

I didn't need my notes. I told the story with every detail because I knew each one of them. It took a half hour during which Washington smoked two more cigarettes but never asked a question. Each time he kept the cigarette in his mouth, so the smoke curled up and hid his eyes. But I knew. Just like with Wexler. I was confirming something that he had felt inside his guts ad] along.

"You want Wexler's number?" I asked at the end. "He'll tell you everything I just said is legit."

"No, I'll get it if I need it."

"You have any questions?"

"No, not at the moment."

He just stared at me.

"Then what's next?"

"I'm going to check this out. Where you going to be?"

"The Hyatt down by the river."

"Okay, I'll call you."

"Detective Washington, that's not good enough."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, I came here to get information, not just to give it and then go back to my room. I want to ask you about Brooks."

"Look, kid, we didn't have any kind of deal like that.

You came here, you told the story. There was no-"

"Look, don't patronize me by calling me 'kid' like I'm some kind of hick from the sticks. I've given you something and I want something back. That's why I came."

"I don't have anything for you now, Jack."

"That's bullshit. You can sit there and lie, Larry Legs, but I know you've got something. I need it."

"What, to make a big story that'll bring the rest of the jackals like you out?"

I was the one who leaned forward this time.

"I told you, this isn't about a story." I leaned back and we both looked at each other. I wanted a cigarette but didn't have any and I didn't want to ask him for one. The silence was punctuated when one of the detectives I had seen in the homicide room opened the door and looked in.