The Nostradamus File

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

"Him," Selena said.

She put her finger on a photo. She'd been looking at pictures for the past two hours. Hanson had brought more binders in after she'd failed to recognize anyone in the first two.

"You're sure?"

"Yes. I got a good look at him. There's something about his face. Cruel."

The man in the photo had wide ears that stuck out from his head and eyes that looked dead.

"Elbert Sturrock. Armed robbery, assault, attempted murder. He did fifteen upstate. Got out about six months ago."

"Why do they keep letting these people out?" she said.

"You shouldn't ask a cop that, unless you want to see him get mad." Hanson smiled. "Politics, budgets and do-gooders, mostly. Loopholes in the law and bottom feeding lawyers that exploit them."

He closed the binder. "Now that we have an ID, we'll find him. We get him in here, we can sweat him a little."

"You think you can find out who hired him?"

"I'll do my best." Hanson looked at his watch. "I'm off in ten. How about a drink? There's a place a couple of blocks away."

Why not? she thought. Then, No.

"Not today. Maybe another time." Why had she said that? She'd left the door open, just a crack.

Hanson kept the disappointment out of his voice. "Another time would be great. You have a number I can reach you at? I'll let you know what we find out."

"You have a piece of paper?"

Are you really going to give him your number?

Hanson took out a notebook, handed it to her. She wrote down a number. It wasn't the number Nick and the others used to reach her. "It goes to a machine," she said. "I don't usually pick up. Just leave a message."

Back out on the street, she wondered what she was doing.