Page 60 - Labelle Gramercy, On the Case

Thrown for a Loss

The detective considered that for a moment, then told him he
could go back and send Cal over here. He stood up, and started off,
hands still rummaging around in his pockets.
“One more thing, Luke.”
He froze and whirled around, panic on his face.
Lieutenant Gramercy held up an object in her right hand. “This
knife has a blade three inches longer than may be legally concealed.
Officer Weller will confiscate it. Consider this a warning: next time
you will be in court.” His eyes got very large. “With your parents,”
she added. He turned and walked away on wobbly legs.
I took the switchblade and put it in the pouch on my belt next to
the handcuffs. “You picked his pocket, didn’t you?”
“Did you see me do it?”
“No,” I had to admit.
“It fell out on the bench when he sat down.”
I looked hard at her. Her face did not change expression. She
wasn’t joking and she wasn’t challenging me to call her a liar. She was
using her skill and her authority to do what she wanted, never mind
the truth. I didn’t like it. That was how tough cops went bad, getting
away with something small and maybe justifiable in the line of duty
and then being tempted to try it again on a larger scale. But, what the
heck. I had Luke’s knife and he would think twice before bringing
another one in here. That was good for me and good for the mall. I
just couldn’t forget that his pockets were deep and that he had
probably sat down hundreds of times without any item heavy enough
to stay at the bottom ever falling out.
Cal came over cautiously, like he was approaching Judgment Day.
Some of the mall rats’ discomfort had to be embarrassment at sitting
down with two older women who held all the cards. Like two
mothers looking for faults. Too bad.
He sat down and kept very still, a pimply adolescent with a
pathetic need for acceptance. You could see that because he was
imitating Curt every way he could. The outfit. The body hair or lack
of it. The tattoos. The language, too, but I doubted we would get to
hear any of it. This one showed up with the fight already out of him.
It would make Labelle Gramercy’s job easier, but I wondered why he
looked so dejected.
“Your full name, please.”

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