Among Thieves

He stood up, taking one last look around the garage before walking back out to the parking lot. As he approached his car, a tiny, battered convertible pulled into the driveway, rolling over the line of yellow police tape Stone had left on the ground.

Stone waved his arms and yelled, “You can’t come in here! This is a police investigation scene!” Ultimately it mattered little-the forensics team had swept the entire property for anything that might be helpful to them. They had taken plaster molds of tire tracks and sifted through the dirt of the driveway for anything they could find, like archeologists on a dig, bagging and tagging every cigarette butt and every piece of trash. Nevertheless, Stone had no intention of letting civilians into the crime scene area while the investigation was continued. It would open the door for a defense lawyer to argue that the evidence was tainted if they ever caught the bastards. He waved his arms again as he pulled out his badge and held it up for the driver to see.

The car pulled to a stop, but didn’t turn around. Instead, both doors opened and two men got out. Stone squared his shoulders, drawing on the authority of indignation. He slowed, though, as the bigger of the two men pulled himself from the low-slung passenger seat and looked at him. Stone recognized the man instantly.

“Jesus,” Stone said. “Kozlowski. You’ll get yourself shot, pulling into a crime scene like that, y’know? You’re not a cop anymore, in case you’d forgotten.”

“Maybe if they’d put a real cop in charge here it wouldn’t be such a problem,” Kozlowski replied. “Maybe someone who wasn’t a rookie, and who’d know to put the tape back up in front of the driveway.”

“Been a while since I was a rookie. Been a while since I saw you.”

“No shit? I’m old; time moves faster for me,” Kozlowski said. He looked Stone up and down. “I’d heard they put you in civies full time,” he acknowledged. “Vice?”

Stone shook his head. “Homicide.”

“No shit, again. A real job? I guess they’ll take anyone these days, then, huh?”

“They have to. We used to have a bunch of old guys who fucked things up pretty bad.”

“I never fucked up a case in my life,” Kozlowski growled.

“No, you never did,” Stone admitted. “You just pissed off the wrong people in the department.” He moved forward and put out his hand. “How you been?”

Kozlowski shook the hand. “Getting by.”

“Good to hear.”

“You remember Scott Fi

Stone regarded the second man. “From the Caldwell case, right? Hard to forget.” Neither of them offered his hand. “I heard Koz was working with you now. Hard to believe. If I remember right, he had you pegged as a murderer a few years ago.”

“I was wrong,” Kozlowski said.

“He also had you pegged as an asshole,” Stone said.

“So, he was partially wrong,” Fi

Stone turned back to Kozlowski. “What are you doing out here?”

“We need to talk to Vi

“That’s an understatement.”

Kozlowski exchanged a look with Fi

“I mean he’s gone. Really gone.”

“Arrested?” Fi

Stone shook his head. “That’d be an upgrade. He was murdered. You read the papers?”

Fi

“Pretty nasty. We’re not sure exactly yet.”

“When?”

“Saturday night. Maybe early Sunday morning.”

“Any leads?” Kozlowski asked. He still sounded like a cop.

“Not that I can talk about,” Stone said.

“Anything you can tell us?” Fi

Stone hesitated. Kozlowski had been one of the best detectives in the department; his insight might be useful. Stone wasn’t going to give up any information without getting something in return, though. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here first.”

The two men looked at each other. “We can’t,” Fi

“No?”

Fi

“Well then, it looks like we’re not going to be able to help each other.”

Fi

“I could ask you to come down to the station to talk,” Stone said. “This is a murder investigation.”

“Wouldn’t do you any good,” Fi

“No, probably not. But without more, this conversation isn’t go

Fi

“Koz-” Fi

“Don’t worry,” Stone said. “I know Devon. He’s got nothing to do with this.”

“What makes you say that?” Fi

“ Devon ’s a thief, not a murderer. Right circumstances, he might be able to push a button on a guy-maybe even pull the trigger himself if he was scared enough. But that’s as far as he’d go. He wouldn’t be a part of what went down here. He’s not the brutal type, and this was brutal.”

“How so?” Kozlowski asked.

“Vi

Fi

“That’s the question.” Stone looked at Kozlowski. “You got any thoughts?”

Kozlowski shrugged. “I don’t know enough about the man’s business to tell. He chose a livelihood that makes this sort of thing a risk.”

“True,” Stone said. “But this doesn’t seem like just a turf war. There’s something more. Something I can’t figure out. They didn’t do anything to conceal the body or make it difficult to identify him. They left him in a heap in his place of business. There’s only one reason to do that.”

“They wanted to send a message,” Kozlowski said.

“That’s the only thing I can come up with,” Stone agreed. “But to who?” He thought about the message written in blood, but decided it would be disclosing too much.

“That’s your problem, not mine,” Kozlowski said. “I don’t get paid by the city anymore.”

“We should go,” Fi

Kozlowski put his hand out first this time. “If I hear anything on the street, I’ll pass it on if I can,” he said.

Stone shook his hand. “I’d appreciate anything I can get.”

Fi

“Yeah?”

“The civies look good on you, but it’s not the clothes that make the cop.”

“You taught me that one already.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not still true.”

Fi

“Bad luck for Murphy,” Kozlowski replied. “Bad luck for Devon, too.”

“Anything else?”

Kozlowski sighed. “You mean, do I think this has anything to do with Devon?” It took him a moment to answer. “I don’t see how. Even if Murphy set Devon up and dropped a dime on him for some reason, Devon hadn’t been picked up by the cops yet when Murphy’s ticket got punched, so he wouldn’t have known to be pissed yet. Where’s the motive? Plus, the level of violence doesn’t fit. Stone’s right about that, it wouldn’t be Devon ’s style, even if he wanted to kill the man. He’s not a psychopath.”

“I don’t disagree,” Fi