King stood outside the police precinct, trying to decide what he would say when he went inside and who he should talk to. He couldn’t very well ask anyone about the business association without raising a few eyebrows. In fact, maybe he shouldn’t start with the police at all. What if they had a few cops in their pockets? Cops weren’t immune to bribes. King himself had never accepted money under the table, but his longtime partner Chaz Brasso certainly had. He’d been so deep in a senator’s pockets that he’d been willing to kill King—and had tried.
Detective d**k White stepped out of his car and began crossing the street with a cup of coffee in hand.
As soon as he saw King, he lit up. “Hey, Robbie, how you doing?”
There goes my chance to change my mind, he thought. He couldn’t pretend he’d
