Death Turns A Trick (Rebecca Schwartz #1) (A Rebecca Schwartz Mystery) (The Rebecca Schwartz Series)

got out of the car silently, wondering how a person could live with a jackhammer where her heart should be. My chest felt like little bombs were going off inside it every split second, and I could barely hear the sirens above the noise of the old pump. I think Frank may have been trying to tell my rescuers he was a police officer, but I couldn’t hear that too well, either.
    The woman put her arm around my waist and got me to sit down on the curb. I drew up my knees and put my head down on them until I had my equilibrium back.
    When I looked up, I thought I was having a stroke or a psychedelic vision or something. Then I realized the flashing lights were outside my head. They were attached to police cars. Green Street looked like the Hall of Justice parking lot.
    Apparently, every cop in town had arrived, under the impression that something had happened to a brother officer. Everybody on the block was outside. Frank was gesturing toward me and thanking the cops for coming.
    I got up, perfectly calm and steady on my feet, and walked over to the knot of officers around Frank.
    “I’m Rebecca Schwartz,” I said. “I don’t know what kind of cockamamie story this man is giving you, but—”
    “Shut up,” said Frank. “You’re under arrest.”
    “I’ll be goddamned. You try to solicit me for prostitution, break into my apartment, stick a gun in my ribs, half-rape me, beat me up and try to drown me, and
I'm under arrest?”
    “I tried to solicit
you?”
said Frank. “I meet you in a whorehouse, and you give me the key to your apartment and—”
    “Wait a minute, wait a minute,” interposed a pink-faced cop who looked about nineteen. “I think we’d better discuss this at the Hall.”
    Frank ignored him. “I waited for her in her apartment, ready to make a pinch for soliciting, and she came in and went to a big plant and looked in the flowerpot. I thought that was a little strange, so I took a look and she had this big bundle of money in there. She came flying at me, so I had to subdue her.”
    “Officer,” I said to Pink-face, “you will observe that I am approximately half his size. You will also observe brand-new bruises on my face and wrist, and it cannot escape your notice that my hair and dress are wet. Don’t you people have simpler ways of subduing people?”
    Pink-face looked like he wanted to cry. No cop wants to think the worst of another officer, but if I didn’t look like a victim of excessive force, I’m a red-haired
shiksa
.
    “Rebecca, are you all right?” said a voice that sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.
    “Get back,” said Pink-face.
    “Rob Burns of the
Chronicle
,” said the voice, and I looked around in time to see him offer his press card for inspection. “Miss Schwartz is a friend of mine. Can you tell me what happened, Officer?”
    “I am not authorized to make any comment at this time,” said Pink-face, looking around for assistance. But the other cops had gone by now, all except his partner, who was busy talking to some of my rescuers.
    “Maybe Miss Schwartz will tell me, then. Rebecca, are you okay?”
    “Yeah, except that I’ve just been beaten up and nearly drowned by an officer of the law, two days after finding a dead woman in my living room. Other than that, everything’s peachy.”
    I mentioned Kandi to get a rise out of Pink-face, and it worked. Apparently he hadn’t put me together with the murder yet. Practically doing a double take, he flushed pinker still and bundled me into the squad car without another word.
    I waved to Rob and mouthed, “Call me.” Dad and Chris probably wouldn’t approve, but I was mad enough to tell him everything. Pink-face got in and started the engine.
    “Are we leaving without the money?” I asked, like the good citizen I am.
    “What money?”
    “The $25,000 I found in my flowerpot. I was about to take it down to the Hall when that ape came at me with a gun. Shall I go get it?”
    Of course he couldn’t turn down an offer like that, but he couldn’t let me go alone, either—or he thought he couldn’t—so he had to endure the humiliation of getting out of the car and escorting me inside while everyone watched. Once again, he suggested I change into dry clothes, but I settled for a coat; I wanted the cops to get the full effect.
    Pink-face and company let Frank drive his own car back to the Hall, which made me damn mad, considering who had done what to whom.

Chapter Sixteen
     
    Inspector