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''What? Yeah, yeah. I'm on this damn cellular phone. As far as I'm concerned, give me a good old stationary telephone. These things aren't worth crap." |
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D.J. shook her head. The captain never changed. Anything new always threw him into a fit. Modern technology made him crazy. He'd be happiest if cops still walked the streets with nightsticks and typed reports on manual typewriters. |
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"Well, you know where to fine me," D.J. interrupted the captain's continuing tirade. "Have Lou try to stir something around. He's best at getting people to talk. Send him over to McCall's foster parents' place. If he digs up anything, he can call me here. And tell him to keep me updated on the other case. I'm sick of running into fourteen-year-olds with better firearms than I've seen in my dreams. I want to put a stop to this as soon as I get back to town." |
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"We all want it stopped. Gangs and guns make my ulcer burn. And so does the mayor." |
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"I get the message. I'll stick to McCall like he's a helpless little puppy dog. He'll be safe with me. Don't worry." |
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"Just tell Lou to call me, all right?" |
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"Yeah. I do know what I'm doing, Halloran. You don't need to give me step-by-step instructions." The phone crackled again, and D.J. said good-bye amid the captain's curses. She had wanted to ask if Captain Miller knew the story of McCall's parents, but with McCall in the next room and the captain still swearing about the useless, newfangled |
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