Your Fathers, Where Are They? And the Prophets, Do They Live Forever?

BUILDING 52

— You were right, my man.

—

— Kev? You asleep?

— What’s that?

— It’s me.

— You’re back?

— I am. And I got one.

— You got what?

— A cop, man. Just like you said. And he was easier than you.

— Oh shit.

— What?

— You brought him here?

— He’s two buildings over.

— Unharmed?

— He’s fine.

— And you weren’t followed?

— Nothing. He was alone. I left his phone right there on the street.

— Oh Jesus.

— What? It’s true. I’m unstoppable. You were right.

— He’s okay?

— He’s fine. What are you worried about?

— I don’t know. What do you plan to do with him?

— I don’t know. I mean, I know generally. I have some general police-work questions. Just some stuff I wanted to talk about. He doesn’t look like he’d know a whole lot.

— What time is it?

— About ten. It took me an hour to get there, and then a couple hours to stake out the scene. He was standing outside some party like a valet.

— I can’t believe you took a cop.

— You made me believe it was possible, Kev. I have to thank you for that.