down, Mike, calm down.”
“I won’t calm down until you tell me the truth!”
“The truth is, we had no idea that letter was connected to the victim we found this morning. It came in the regular mail, it was opened by one of our staff, and someone had the foresight to send it to forensics. It just so happened that there was a match.”
“Who called the papers?”
“They must have called us.”
“The leak definitely came from your department.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“You’d better handle it, and next time, we expect a call.”
He hung up.
“Shit!” he cried.
Dylan Connelly sat down.
“Captain, why don’t you go home?” he said. “I can handle this.”
“I can’t go anywhere just yet,” O’Malley replied, “because the mayor pulled me into his Everybody-Holds-Hands crime campaign and now I’m screwed. Don’t worry. I’m going home soon. You’re here to learn everything you can from Black and Ramirez and act as a liaison with Simms over at the A7 so this doesn’t happen again. You two are friends, right?”
“We were in the academy together.”
“Good. Once we’re through here, call him up. If he doesn’t want to talk to myself or Black, he’s at least got to talk to you.”
“It might not be his fault,” Avery said. “He was a little busy earlier.”
“Oh yeah,” O’Malley snapped. “That reminds me. Nice face,” he noted to Avery. “What the hell were you doing in the gang den of Juan Desoto?”
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