“And that’s the question. And there’s only one way to get the answer. Get it from Grogan. Get Grogan in some nice quiet place and sit him down and have a friendly conversation. Then maybe a little pressure, and sooner or later Grogan spills.”

Corey was gazing at the floor. “It’s possible.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It adds, anyway. I mean, it checks with what them hoods did. The way they played it. They wanted to get you outta there alive.”

Corey kept gazing at the floor. Then he slowly got up from the chair, started walking around, not looking at Grogan. His forehead was creased and he was biting his lip.

“You’re letting it show,” Grogan said.

Corey looked at him.

The silver-haired man was smiling thinly, knowingly. “You’re wishing,” he said. “Wishing you had the badge.”

Correct, Corey thought.

Grogan went on smiling. “With the badge it would be a breeze. You could go around knocking on doors and asking questions. In no time at all you get a lead. And then another lead. And then another lead. And still another—”

“If I had the badge,” Corey cut in dryly.

“If you had the badge,” Grogan said, not smiling now, “I wouldn’t give you the job.”

“How come?”

Grogan’s voice was toneless. “I don’t trust anyone who carries a badge. Not even my good-time buddy Captain Tommy; and I been doing business with the captain for years. In his heart he’s a thug and that’s why we get along. Up to a point, that is. It comes to anything important, I remember his badge and that’s the stoplight.”

“But why?”

“You oughta know why,” Grogan said. “You and the captain are in the same groove; both out for the extra dollar. But tell me,” his eyes were lenses probing deep, “weren’t there times when you saw the badge lookin’ at you? When you heard the badge talkin’ to you?”

Corey blinked hard.

“Get what I mean?” Grogan murmured.

“Let’s drop it.” He looked away from Grogan.

There was a soft chuckle. “It kinda tickles me,” Grogan said. “No matter what he does on the side, a cop is always a cop—until they take the badge away. Then he is what he is.”

“Look, whaddya say we drop it?”

“Sure, sure.” Grogan patted Corey’s shoulder. “Sure,” and his tone was soft with understanding.

His hand stayed on Corey’s shoulder. Then he was guiding Corey toward the front door. As they neared the door, Corey took out his wallet and inserted the seventy dollars. He pocketed the wallet, made a move to open the door, and heard Grogan saying. “There’s one more thing.”

They looked at each other.

“This deal is you and me,” Grogan said. “Just you and me. That understood?”