Page 5 of Lion & Lamb

EYES OF THE POLICE COMMISSIONER ONLY

Madam Commissioner:

The Archie Hughes case is a guaranteed clusterfuck, even if everything goes right. However, I have some thoughts on how we might minimize the damage.

The Eagles quarterback is arguably the most talented pair of hands ever to touch the pigskin. If he’s not the greatest of all time, he’s a serious contender for the title. Archie Hughes’s family, friends, and fans all over the world will demand swift justice. We must give it to them.

I was next up on the wheel for this case, as the captain will confirm. But I understand that this may not sit well with the rank and file, who might assume it was handed to me on a silver platter. Also, full disclosure: I am on friendly terms with Eagles ownership, though I did not know Mr. Hughes personally. Nonetheless, I know I am the best detective for this case, despite the optics.

My suggestion, Madam Commissioner, is that we create a task force. Let the city know we have all hands on deck.

Not only will we have the eyes of the entire city on us, but there will be massive national and international media attention. It’s vital that we have a unified voice giving simple, direct updates on the status of the investigation. I volunteer my services for this role.

As you know, I have excellent relations with the local news outlets and have appeared on national news multiple times over the past ten years.

The truth is, this case will most likely be solved with surveillance cameras, which is how we solveninety percentof homicides. I’ll be working closely with my colleagues in theSpecial Investigations Unitto review the footage and we will have answers soon. As my dad liked to say, “We don’t sleep until the killer is tucked neatly into bed.”

Thank you in advance, Madam Commissioner. I hope we can bring this case to a rapid and satisfactory conclusion.

Yours,

Det. Michael Bernstein

Seven

11:50 a.m.

WINTER LANDSCAPINGon Philadelphia’s Main Line was mostly about preventive care. Which was why Mauricio Lopez, fifty-three, had winterized the sprinkler system way back in October and wrapped the young trees to protect them from frost. He’d also fertilized in advance of the first hard freeze. And he made sure to replenish the mulch as needed.

Mauricio insisted on using the leaves he raked up in the fall as mulch in the dead of winter, despite his employer’s wife telling him not to bother, that they could afford to buy a fresh supply. Mauricio told her it was not about the money; it was about the health of the roots beneath the freezing soil. The mulch acted as an insulating blanket. Nature supplied it for free. Why not use it?

Much of that work had been done, so Mauricio had little to do aside from occasionally pruning dead branches and brushing road salt away from the front-facing bushes. Otherwise, daily maintenance of the vast grounds was simply a matter of looking around for anything out of place.

And Mauricio saw somethingveryout of place late Sunday morning.

Any foreign object on the ground almost always turned out to be an errant golf ball from the nearby country club. Sometimes the children in the neighborhood left a baseball or toy. Once Mauricio even found a hobbyist’s drone that had crash-landed near a birdbath. And occasionally, there were dead animals—birds, mostly. When Mauricio found them, he quickly disposed of the corpses. If the kids were around, they’d want to hold a funeral. Which was sweet, but it ate up a lot of his workday.

This morning, he noticed a foreign object that was mostly buried in a flower bed. The only reason Mauricio saw it was that the low winter sun glimmered off its surface.

A car,Mauricio thought. The older child had had an obsession with Matchbox sports cars last summer; this had to be one of them.

Mauricio knelt down, hearing his knee joints pop, and brushed away some of the frost and mulch covering the toy. But it wasn’t a little sports car buried in the flower bed.

Mauricio Lopez lived his life largely unplugged. He had a landline so Mrs. Hughes could reach him as needed, but he avoided “smart” devices. He did not own a computer, TV, or radio. He enjoyed reading books about ancient history. He liked to garden.

So when Mauricio arrived for work that morning, he had not heard the news about his employer. For all Mauricio knew, Mr. Hughes was preparing for this evening’s game. In fact, despite his closeness to the family, Mauricio Lopez might very well have been the only person in the tristate area who didn’t know Archie Hughes had been shot and killed in front of the art museum the night before.

But still, the sight of a gun caused him to tremble violently.

Monday, January 24

Chapter1

7:32 a.m.

AFTER EXECUTINGthe most perfect display of parallel parking ever seen in the city of Philadelphia, Cooper Lamb realized not a single soul had witnessed it.

Not his ex. Not his children. Not a random passerby. Not even a meter maid, who normally would be on him like a heat-seeking missile. If no one saw this private eye’s incredible display of automotive prowess, did it actually happen? It was another bummer in a long string of them.

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