Johnny Liddell awoke with the unfamiliar odor of disinfectant in his nostrils. Someone was shaking him roughly. He rolled over on his back, stared around at the unfamiliar surroundings. The door to the cell was open, Sergeant Ryan was standing over him, eying him with no show of enthusiasm. The Homicide man’s eyes were red-rimmed; the dark shadow of a beard dulled his heavy jaw line.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were a friend of Inspector Herlehy’s?” Ryan wanted to know.
“You didn’t ask.”
Ryan glowered at him. “Well, the inspector’s in his office now. He wants to see you.”
Liddell swung his feet off the side of the cell cot, stood up. He walked over to the piece of chrome that served as a mirror without offering the ability to be used as a weapon that glass might. He studied his face cr
