In Death 29 - Kindred in Death

going to find a cop and turn them in. Sweartagod.”
    “Uh-huh. I saw you find this one in that guy’s back pocket. I’m sure he’s going to be really grateful.”
    “I called for uniforms.” Mira hurried up on her ice-pick heels.
    “Good, saves me.” She tapped the thief on the back of the head. “See? See? You just couldn’t help me out. Now we’ve both got to go through the deal. You!” She pointed at the mark who was currently one of the lookie-loos staring at the scene.
    “Me? Me? I didn’t do anything.”
    “Got ID?”
    “Yes. Sure. I got . . .” He reached for his back pocket. “My wallet! My wallet’s gone!”
    “Isn’t that a coincidence? I’ve got it right here.” Keeping one elbow in the small of the thief’s back, she held up the wallet. “It’s like magic, isn’t it? To get it back you’ll need to wait here for the uniformed officers and file a report with them.”
    “I was having a good day,” the thief muttered. “A really good day.”
    “It’s in the toilet now.” She held up her badge to flash the two uniforms hustling their way.
    It took time she didn’t want to spend, but in the end, she supposed, justice was served.
    “You gave me such a start,” Mira said. “One second you’re there, the next you’re jumping over the rail and running.”
    “Yet another reason not to wear fancy duds and ankle breakers.”
    “You have a point.”
    They backtracked to the store where Risso was employed.
    A lot of gadgetry, she noted, all under the banner: 20% Off! This Week Only! that had probably been draped there for years.
    She made Risso Banks from his ID shot, and saw him make her for a cop. He strolled over, with a redwood-sized chip on his shoulder.
    “Saw you take down that mug. He didn’t have any speed.”
    “He had six wallets that weren’t his.”
    “Crime’s everywhere.”
    He was a good-looking guy—a bit on the smirky side—with a short centurion cut that looked fresh. Dark hair, sulky brown eyes. The right height and build, but she didn’t get a buzz off him.
    “Do you want to talk here, Risso, or somewhere more private?”
    “If you’ve got something to say, say it. The boss knows I had some trouble a while back. I haven’t had any since. He knows that, too. I did the terms of my deal.”
    “Your brother got a harder deal.”
    He shrugged, then head jerked her toward the rear of the shop. “He screwed me up. Fed me illegals before I’m ten, got me hooked. I worked for him, sure. What else was there? And when it came down, he ran, and he left me for the cops. He ran, trying to save his own ass, and didn’t do anything to help me. So he got what was coming to him, as far as I can see. And I’m not shedding any tears over it. I got straight, I got work. Cops like to come around giving me the fish eye, fine. I’m clean.”
    “If you give me the right answer to one question, I walk out. No harm, no foul.”
    “Depends on the question.”
    “You got attitude, Risso. I have to admire that. Saturday from six p.m. to Sunday, three a.m.”
    “We close at six on Saturday. Me and the boss closed up, left about quarter after. You can ask him.”
    “And after?”
    He gave a jerky shrug that she interpreted as annoyance rather than nerves. “Went home, got cleaned up some. Eight o’clock me, the boss, and three other guys played cards like we do Saturday night, once a month. Game was at my place this round.” He grinned, with that hint of smirk. “Friendly stakes.”
    “I’m not worried about the stakes. Is that your boss?” She gestured toward the potbellied man trying to sell a customer a new PPC.
    “Yeah. And the guy in the back, Carmine, he was at the game.”
    “Hold on a minute.”
    She crossed to the potbelly, held up her badge. “Quick one. Who closed with you Saturday night, and at what time?”
    “Risso, he’s over there. We closed it up about six.”
    “When did you see him next?”
    “At his place, a couple hours later. We had a card game. Is there a problem?”
    “No, no problem. Thanks.”
    “He’s a good boy,” the man said as Eve started to turn away. “He comes in on time, does the work, and doesn’t complain. I gave him a raise last week ’cause he earned it.”
    Eve nodded. “He’s not in any trouble.”
    She walked back to Risso, handed him her card. “Cops come in giving you the fish eye, let me know.”
    He stared at the card. “Why?”
    “Because I asked a question and you gave me the right answer.