“What happened was they killed her.”

“It was an accident!” Chaim cried out. “They claimed they knew where she was. They were supposed to bring her back to me. She resisted. A gun went off-”

“She knew them, Chaim,” Decker broke in. “They killed her because she could identify them. It wasn’t any accident.”

Donatti said, “They don’t call you lieutenant for nothing.”

“No, you’re wrong. It wasn’t like that at all!” Chaim protested. “They said they could rescue her.” He started sobbing. “They said she struggled, that she was screaming. It wasn’t meant to happen that way.” He became hysterical. “I didn’t kill her. I DIDN’T KILL HER-”

Donatti’s gun spat three pellets of hot lead, leaving Chaim Lieber with three blood-filled holes in the center of his chest. He was still forming words when he fell to the ground, his lips ring-shaped, mouthing the letter O.

The air smothered with its silence. Decker’s heart was pounding against his chest. “What… why’d you… why’d you do that?”

“Why?” Donatti glared at him with stone eyes. “Because that bitch was mine, Decker. It would have been one thing if she left on her own, but she didn’t. She was taken from me. Nobody steals from a Donatti and gets away with it. Nobody! Not even her father!”

He was panting like the dog he was.

“Besides, I dislike self-justifying bastards. Asshole’s worse than I am. At least, I’m honest about what I do.”

Donatti was holding two guns-Merrin’s Smith & Wesson.32 in his left hand, his own semiautomatic in the right. He went over to Lieber’s body and tattooed the inert hand with gunpowder by firing off the rest of the magazine from the semiautomatic, in various directions. When he was done, he left the gun at Chaim’s side. Several of the stray bullets had missed Decker’s feet by inches. When Donatti got back on his feet, he was holding Merrin’s revolver in his left hand.

“If anyone had shot you, it would have been Merrin, don’t you think?”

Decker regarded Donatti. He was sweating hard, breathing quickly. Throughout the process, he’d been grimacing in pain. If Decker moved now, if he was quick enough…

Donatti read his thoughts and fished out the Beretta from his jacket. He had the Smith & Wesson fixed on his head, the Beretta on his chest. “C’mon. Don’t insult my intelligence.”

The opportunity had come and gone.

Donatti kept the.32 on Decker’s head. “You ever been shot?”

“Several times.”

“Where?”

“Left shoulder… arm.”

“Hurts like hell.” The Beretta still in his right hand, Donatti pulled up his black sweater, exposing his bandage.

“Who did that?” Decker asked. “Merrin? Chaim? One of Merrin’s boys?”

Donatti sidestepped the question. “It wasn’t the first time I’ve been plugged, but I still don’t like it.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“Hold still.” Donatti pointed the.32 at Decker’s chest. “And I mean real still.”

The gun spat fire, grazing Decker’s rib cage. He jumped as pain burst through his body.

“Now we’re twins,” Donatti announced.

“Fuck you!” Decker snarled as he grabbed his side. Blood reddened his fingers. Enraged, he bolted forward, but Donatti had taken several steps back, brandishing the weapons toward Decker’s head.

“Ah, ah, ah…”

Decker stopped and hissed out, “Go ahead and shoot me, you goddamn son of a bitch! I’m not dancing for your amusement!”

“I’m not making you dance, Lieutenant. I’m turning you into a real live hero.” The next shot grazed his hip. Decker doubled over in pain.

“I think that’s enough.” Donatti switched hands, keeping the semiautomatic on Decker’s face. Swiftly, he bent down, wrapped Merrin’s dead fingers around his pistol, and depleted it of ammunition. When he got up, he wiped his pants with latex-gloved hands, the Beretta pointed somewhere within the vicinity of Decker’s groin.

“You should lie down. Losing blood can make you light-headed.”

“Fuck you!” Decker stood up straight for spite. The air reeked of sweat, waste, and blood. His head was on fire. Sparkles danced before his eyes, but he concentrated on his breathing and refused to succumb to the nausea in his stomach and the dizziness in his brain. He’d go out like a man, in full consciousness, face-to-face and eye-to-eye.

Donatti was analyzing the scene. “Well, it looks to me like Lieber and Merrin shot each other, Lieutenant. Not to mention these two dodos, Merrin’s two top runners for ecstasy in the local high schools.”

“Philip Caldwell and Ryan Anderson.”

“You’ve done your homework. Yes, Caldwell and Anderson. And yes, you’re right. They knew Shayndie from hanging at the raves.”

“They took her out of hiding to call my brother,” Decker panted out. “They figured that… that my brother would tell me about it. And that would throw me off for a while. They murdered her… but figured I wouldn’t even look for the body for a couple of days because of the phone call. It was a good idea except they dumped her in a public place where she was easily found.”

Donatti rolled his eyes. “Idiots.”

“The boys knew where you had her stashed.” Decker’s eyes traveled to Donatti’s ice-blue orbs. “That means you had to have known them. Did they work for you?”

“Just the opposite. Caldwell had been one of those pains in the ass who had passed through my portals when I used to take in straight boys. Cocksucker abused my hospitality. Such rudeness has its consequences.” He shook his head. “He killed Ephraim Lieber in my style, thinking all he had to do to be me was pop the trigger. Well, they say that imitation is the highest form of flattery.”

The room was silent except for heavy breathing.

Decker spoke softly. “Now what?”

“Well, you can spin it any way you want, but I’d tell it like this: a distraught father / brother avenging the deaths of his daughter and brother from evil drug runners and a corrupt police chief. Let the pissant die a hero. Or you can tell the cops the truth, that Lieber was scum-a sniveling, weak, groveling piece of shit who got blow jobs from hookers and who set up his own brother and his own daughter. Then he tried to cover his tracks, bringing out some hick L.A. cop to pump NYPD for information. When the cop got to be a pain in the ass, he attempted to clean him. But the hick cop happened to be just a little smarter than Lieber thought.”

“I can spin it any way I want…” Decker felt sweat pouring off his brow, the left side of his body throbbing in pain. “You’re letting me walk, Chris?”

“Is that a mistake?”

“Probably.”

“I don’t think so, Decker. If you come after me, you’ll fuck yourself up. Ultimately, it’s your word against mine.”

Decker managed to smile, even though the entire left side of his torso pulsated with burning agony. “I have a little more credibility than you do.”

“Think so? Well, I’ve got the lawyers, and they’re gonna tell a jury this: We were a partnership pure and simple-both of us hand in hand, doing it together, and both of us getting shot in the process.”

He pointed to his own ribs.

“If I go down, old man, you go down. Because all Hershfield has to do is ask you one simple question, Lieutenant. Who came to whom for help?”

The words cut through Decker more powerfully than his wounds.

“And the fact that you’re alive to tell the story gives me credibility,” Donatti continued. “Because everyone knows if I had wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

No one spoke.

“And… I’m much cuter than you.” Donatti gave a charming smile. “Hershfield’s specialty is voir dire. All he has to do is stack the jury with women and a few blue-collar men and you haven’t a chance in hell for conviction. The most you’ll be able to hope for is a hung jury. Meanwhile, you’ve not only fucked up your life, you fucked up your brother’s family because all the shit will come out. As far as I’m concerned, another trial will only enhance my reputation.”