Page 16 of NYPD Red 7: The Murder Sorority

“Zach! Kylie!” he said, giving each of us a sloppy drunk hug. “Fuck, man, it means so much to me that you guys came all the way out here. Grab some food. There’s a shit ton of it. The baked ziti is incredible, and the linguini with white clam sauce is so fucking good—”

“Evan, thanks, but we’re not going to eat,” I said.

“You don’t know whatcha missing,” he slurred. “But suit yourself. At least have a beer.”

“Can’t,” I said. “We’re here on business.”

He looked at me,bleary-eyed. “Business? What are you talking about?”

One of the detectives from Jonas’s old squad moved in and put a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “They want to know if you were involved in Hellman’s shooting.”

“Bullshit,” Evan said, shaking the man’s hand off his shoulder. “You don’t know these guys, Harry. Zach, tell him how far back we go.”

“Evan,” I said, “we do have to ask you a few questions. Preferably in private. It’s procedure. It won’t take long.”

He backed away from us. “Are you fuckingserious? Is that why you’re here?”

“Come on, Evan. We’re investigating Warren Hellman’s homicide. You know the drill. We have to go by the book.”

“You can shove the fucking book up your ass,” Harry said. “And if Jonas were alive, he’d ram it up there for you.”

“You cocksuckers have got a lot of fucking nerve.” It was another retired detective. “After all this man has gone through, you come here to rip out what’s left of his heart?”

“It was that bitch Sonia Blakely, wasn’t it?” Evan said. “She fucking went on TV and said NYPD was behind killing Hellman. She was screaming, ‘Blue Justice! Blue Justice!’ And now you’re pointing the finger at me? I thought you two wereNY-fucking-PDRed, not Internal fucking Affairs.”

“Evan, please.” It was Kylie, her voice soft, calm. “You’re athird-generationcop. You know how this works. We have to go through the motions. Just a few questions.”

A voice boomed out. “Not now! And definitely not here!” A short, stocky man with thick black hair and a matching Tom Selleck mustache pushed his way toward us. “I’m Tony Sisto, the delegate from the Tenth, and this is bullshit. You show up here on the day that the scumbag who killed Officer Belmont’s father is turned loose? The two of you have got some fucking balls. Now, get out. And if you or whoever’s ass you’re kissing wants to talk to Evan, put it in writing. I’ll have the union attorney get back to you. We’re done here.”

“No, Tony, we’re not done,” Evan said. “Zach, Kylie, I swear on my father’s and sister’s souls that I had nothing to do with it. I was positive the jury would convict. Do you think I hired a sniper to sit on some rooftop on the off chance that Hellman would walk out of the courthouse a free man?”

I shook my head. Kylie did the same.

“You want to know the truth? Part of me is glad that scumbag is dead. But another part of me is in a lot of fucking pain, because...” He choked up, trying to hold back the sobs that were welling up in his throat. “Because with Hellman gone, I’ll never know what really happened to my sister and my father, and that will haunt me till the day I die. Please, believe me. I didn’t do it.”

“We believe you,” I said. “That’s all we came for.”

“Then get the fuck out,” somebody said. I couldn’t tell who, because by now every cop in the backyard had closed in around Evan.

“We’re going,” I said. “But first I think you should know that this case just exploded.”

Evan shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

“This morning at around eleven a.m., Warren Hellman’s brother Curtis was murdered.”

The news was a gut punch. Nobody moved. Nobody said a word. Finally, Tony Sisto broke the silence. “Oh, wait... Curtis Hellman? I did that one. Blew his fucking brains out.”

“He was stabbed,” I said.

“In that case, I did it,” someone yelled.

A third voice. “Bullshit! I did it.”

Kylie and I turned around and started to leave. Most of them followed us.

We got into our car listening to a chorus of hootingshit-facedcops vying for our attention so they could confess to a murder they had just found out about.

My career has had its low points. But I can’t remember a day more rock bottom than this one.

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