“Officer Taylor, here. Irwin’s been spotted,” the caller said when Mike answered his phone, about four and a half hours into his shift.
“Where?”
“In a cheap rooming house. At 321 Rand. The building used to be a factory.”
“I know the place. Is he still there?” Mike asked, grabbing his jacket.
“According to our informant, he is.”
Mike was out the door of the squad room, heading to the elevator as he talked. “No one goes in until I get there, cop or civilian. Got it? Any civilians leave, don’t allow them back in.”
“Yes, sir.”
Hanging up, Mike called for backup, giving the men the location and repeating his instructions that no one was to do anything until he arrived. “I want him taken alive,” he added tightly. “No lights or sirens. Understood?”
He knew he was repeating protocol, but i
