Аннотация
W. E. B. Griffin
The Murderers
For Sergeant Zebulon V. Casey
Internal Affairs Division
Police Department, Retired, the City of Philadelphia.
He knows why.
ONEOfficer Jerry Kellog, who was on the Five Squad of the Narcotics Unit of the Philadelphia Police Department, had heard somewhere that if something went wrong, and you found yourself looking down the barrel of a gun, the best thing to do was smile. Smiling was supposed to make the guy holding the gun on you less nervous, less likely to use the gun just because he was scared.
He had never had the chance to put the theory to the test before-the last goddamned place in the world he expected to find some scumbag holding a gun on him was in his own kitchen-but he raised his hands to shoulder level, palms out, and smiled.
“No problem,” Jerry said. “Whatever you want, you got it.”
“You got a ankle holster, motherfucker?” the man with the gun demanded.
Jerry’s brain went on aut...
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