Chapter Seventeen
Zeroing in.
One hour later, Detective Craig Welsh, stood beneath me in the stairwell, head level with mine, scribbling in a notepad. I slumped on the top step, keeping clear of the crime scene crews and detectives filtering into and out of the apartment. The man I’d affectionately come to refer to as ‘Hooch’, was missing his usual partner, the abrasive Detective Fairbanks, aka ‘Turner’.
Welsh wore a wrinkled gray suit and, despite his misshapen nose, squinting eyes and appearance of a boxer who had fought ten too many rounds, seemed a little softer and more understanding than his partner. Maybe he was the good-cop in their team, or maybe we were both just bone-tired and didn’t have the energy to spar.
“So,” Welsh, repeated for the fourth time as he glanced up from his
