Summer Cool

11

Paine didn't know Bryers well. He had been brought in to clean up the department only six months before and by all indications had done a good job. People were scared of him, which meant he was effective. And he had been Coleman's main worry, which was fine with Paine.

Bryers' office was spartan and neat; the clock on the wall outside said 3:05 and the air conditioner had been turned off. There was a residual breath of cool air that Paine relished as he sat down.

"I hear that you spoke with Roberto Hermano," Bryers said, directly. He looked like the kind of man who didn't waste time. He looked like his office. His tie was still knotted, his shirt white and unstained with perspiration, the sleeves buttoned at the cuff. His face was a bureaucrat's: oval, symmetrical, bland but potentially hard, the eyes unblinking, the hair thinning, parted, always combed. He'd look at home here or behind a lawyer's desk, or a vice president's desk at any corporation anywhere. He looked like the kind of man who would be good at implementing policy, or carrying out orders to the letter. Paine wasn't sure if he liked him or not.

"I talked with Hermano two days ago." Paine smiled slightly; it went unreturned. "Just a friendly talk."

"Coleman told you about him?"

"Well. ."

"Coleman told you about him," Bryers stated, as if he were reading from prepared notes. "He also told you about Petty's drug investigation. Also, he made an unauthorized job offer to you, with incentives attached that made the offer, in effect, a bribe."

"Can I guess?" Paine said. "You had Coleman's office bugged."

Bryers almost blinked. "I'd like to know what Roberto Hermano told you during your conversation."

"He told me Bob Petty was a good guy, and that now he thought he was fucked because Petty was gone, and the whole operation would be folded. I guess he was right."

Bryers nodded. "We found him in his apartment with his throat cut. His testicles had been stuffed into his mouth."

Bryers waited for a reaction that Paine didn't give, and then leaned slightly forward. "The thing is, Paine, I don't want you involved in this."

"Why not?"

"Because you're just going to get in my way. I was sent here to do a job. I've been here six months, and in another few months this police department will be clean."

"Bob Petty isn't a dirty cop."

"I wish I could believe that, Paine. But now I don't think so. We believe Coleman had Roberto Hermano killed. Coleman had been dealing with Hermano ever since Petty's drug sting was set up. When the sting was sprung we were going to bring Coleman down with the rest of them. Now it looks like Petty, too, was on the other side of the fence. I realize Petty is your friend, Paine, and I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."

"I can't believe that."

Bryers leaned a fraction of an inch closer. "We did have Coleman's office bugged, Paine. And his phone tapped. Very legal, I've got the court orders.

"Petty made a call to Coleman two days ago, resigning from the force. He was very abusive and abrupt. There were a lot of expletives. It sounded like he was drunk, but I've listened to the tape and I can tell you there was no doubt he meant what he said.

"That was bad enough, walking out in the middle of an investigation and resigning the way he did. But he made another phone call to Coleman, yesterday. After the call, Coleman left his office and disappeared. The desk sergeant saw him leave, and said Coleman was white as a sheet.

"We went over the tape, and we're sure it was Bob Petty's voice."

Bryers leaned back in his chair, pulled open a drawer in his desk, and pulled out a slim cassette recorder. He put it on the desk between himself and Paine.

"Like I said, I'm sorry he's your friend."

Bryers pushed the play button. The tape hissed and then a voice said, in a professionally hurried tone, "Coleman."

There was silence. Then Coleman began to say hello into the phone to see if anyone was there and was cut off.

It was Bobby Petty's voice. He wasn't drunk this time. "We're murderers, Joe," he said, as if presenting a death sentence.

Coleman began to say, "Bobby-" but Petty cut him off again.

"Tiny," Petty said, and then one end of the phone was cut off. But they heard air run out of a set of lungs on the other end, and then Coleman's voice, just before the phone was hung up, said, as frightened as a human voice gets, "Oh, God, Jesus."