Sacred Sins

on Ed's arm before his partner could flip the coin. “Last time you flipped in here I ended up having bean sprouts for lunch. We do it outside, where we've got some room.”
    In agreement, they got out and stood on the sidewalk. Ed took off his gloves, pocketing them before he flipped the coin.
    “Heads,” he announced, showing the coin. “Give me time to get in position.”
    “Let's go.” Ben kicked the glass neck of a beer bottle out of his way and started into the building. Inside it smelled like baby puke and old whiskey. Ben unzipped his jacket as he climbed to the third floor. He took a long, slow look up and down the hall before he knocked on 303.
    The door was opened a crack by a teenager with matted hair and a missing front tooth. Even before he got the first whiff of pot, Ben saw by his eyes that he was high. “Amos Reeder?”
    “Who wants him?”
    Ben flipped open his badge.
    “Amos ain't here. He's out looking for work.”
    “Okay. I'll talk to you.”
    “Man, you got a warrant or something?”
    “We can talk in the hall, inside, or downtown. You got a name?”

    “I don't have to tell you nothing. I'm in here minding my own business.”
    “Yeah, and I smell enough grass coming through this door to show probable cause. Want me to come in and take a look around? Vice is having a special this week. For every ounce of pot I turn in, I get a free T-shirt.”
    “Kevin Danneville.” Ben saw sweat begin to pearl on the kid's forehead. “Look, I got rights. I don't have to talk to no cops.”
    “You look nervous, Kevin.” Ben pressed a hand to the door to keep the crack open. “How old are you?”
    “I'm eighteen, if it's any of your fucking business.” “Eighteen? You look more like sixteen to me, and you're not in school. I might have to take you down to juvie. Why don't you tell me about a little girl whose daddy had a coin collection?”
    It was the shifting of Kevin's eyes that saved Ben's life. He saw the change of expression, and on instinct whirled. The knife came down, but instead of severing his jugular, made a long slice through his arm as he fell against the door and crashed into the apartment.
    “Christ, Amos, he's a cop. You can't kill a cop.” Kevin, rushing to get out of the way, crashed into a table and sent a lamp shattering to the floor.
    Reeder, flying on the PCP he'd just scored, only grinned. “I'm going to cut the motherfucker's heart out.”
    Ben had time enough to see that his assailant was barely old enough to be out of high school before the knife swung toward him again. He dodged, fighting to free his weapon with his left hand as blood poured out of the right. Kevin scooted over the floor like a crab and whimpered. Behind them the window crashed in.
    “Police.” Ed stood outside the window, legs spread, revolver level. “Drop the knife or I'll shoot.”

    Spittle ran out of the side of Amos's mouth as he focused on Ben. Incredibly, he giggled. “Gonna slice you up. Slice you into little pieces, man.” Hefting the knife over his head, he made a leap. The.38 caliber, blunt-nosed wadcutter caught him in the chest and jerked his body back. For a moment he stood, eyes wide, blood pumping out of the hole in his chest. Ed kept his finger wrapped around the trigger guard. Then Reeder went down, taking a folding table with him. The knife slipped out of his hand with a quiet clatter. He died without a sound.
    Ben stumbled and went down to his knees. By the time Ed climbed through the broken window, he'd managed to free his gun. “Flinch,” Ben said between gritted teeth as he aimed his service revolver at Kevin. “Just one good flinch is considered resisting arrest.”
    “Amos did it. Amos did all of them,” Kevin said as he began to blubber. “I just watched. I swear, I just watched, that's all.”
    “Just one good flinch, you little sonofabitch, and I'll blow your balls off before you learn how to use them.”
    Ed made a routine and unnecessary check of Amos before he crouched beside Ben. “How bad's the arm?”
    The pain was incredibly hot and had already made a trip into his stomach to trigger nausea. “I had to pick heads. Next time I toss.”
    “Fine. Let's have a look.”
    “Just call someone in to clean up this mess, and get me to the hospital.”
    “Didn't hit an artery or you'd be gushing out A Positive.”
    “Oh, that's okay then.” He sucked in his breath as Ed revealed the wound. “How about a round of golf?”
    “Just keep this on it,