Read Online Dancer in the Flames by Stephen Solomita - Free Book Online Page A

elaborate cornice, heavy enough to crush a tank, had come loose at the building’s western edge and threatened to crash into the street.
    Inside the narrow lobby, Boots headed for the rear of the building, then started up the stairs. The soles of his boots crunched over debris with every step. Crack vials? Broken glass? Cockroaches thick enough to form a carpet? Detective Littlewood didn’t pause to speculate – for him, this was familiar terrain. Still, he was careful not to brush against the walls or the banister as he climbed to the third floor. The pitter-pat of cockroach legs scurrying beneath his shirtsleeve was an aspect of the terrain with which he was also familiar.
    Boots finally positioned himself beside the door of an apartment running along the eastern side of the building. Curling his hand into a fist, he hammered on the door three times, putting some effort into it.
    ‘Vinnie,’ he shouted, ‘it’s Boots Littlewood. Get your ass out here and do it now. Don’t make me say it again, Vinnie. Get your ass out in this hall.’
    Boots pounded on the door three more times, repeated the verbal message, then retraced his steps. Given the near-darkness and his fragile feet, he took the stairs as quickly as possible, hustling down the alley only to discover that his partner had the situation well in hand. Jill was sitting astride Vinnie Booster, whacking away at his shoulders with a spring-steel sap.
    At that point, as he holstered his weapon, Boots had a vision of himself undercutting Kelly’s authority, say by yanking her off the unresisting Palermo. But she stood as he approached.
    ‘How’s the feet?’ she asked.
    ‘So far so good.’ Boots grabbed Vinnie by the shoulder, pulled him up, then slammed his fist into the man’s abdomen. Palermo stumbled backwards before crashing to the ground.
    ‘What was that about?’ Jill asked.
    ‘You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.’
    ‘You wanna know why I smacked Vinnie?’
    ‘Yeah.’
    ‘You don’t run from cops, Boots, especially this one. It shows contempt and we can’t have that. Plus, I fell in the slime and tore my pants. I’m gonna have to toss the whole outfit.’ Kelly folded her arms across her chest, the sap still dangling from her fingers. ‘Your turn,’ she said. ‘Why’d you hit him?’
    ‘Simple, Jill. Vinnie’s my snitch and he held out on me. We can’t have that, either.’
    ‘I didn’t do it,’ Vinnie said for the fourth time. ‘I swear I didn’t do it. I never shot nobody in my life.’
    Jill Kelly raised a hand to slow him down. ‘All right, Vinnie, we get the message. You didn’t shoot anybody. Now, can we please move on?’
    They were sitting in the Crown Vic, Boots behind the wheel, his partner alongside, Palermo in the back. Palermo’s hands weren’t cuffed because he was a witness and not a suspect, at least officially. Nevertheless, Boots spelled out the man’s constitutional rights.
    ‘Listen to me close, Vinnie,’ he announced. ‘You don’t have to talk to us if you don’t want to, and you can have a lawyer. But if you do talk to us, whatever you say is strictly on the record. You’re not gonna be able to change your story later on.’
    Boots expected Kelly’s quick glance to be malice-filled. Instead, he found her merely curious.
    ‘No,’ Vinnie said, ‘I trust you, Boots. You always played it straight with me in the past. If I gotta talk to someone, I figure it should be you.’ He paused long enough to fill his lungs. ‘I mean, you don’t have to tell me that I fucked up. I know I shoulda come to you right away. And I swear that was exactly what I was gonna do. But when I found out the hit was on a cop, I got scared.’
    ‘Scared that you’d be blamed?’
    ‘Yeah, and I was scared of the shooter, too. That was some cold shit, man. One in the back, one in the head.’
    Vinnie’s eyes drifted up and to the left as he searched his memory banks. Then he was off and running. The story he told