Free Pariah by David Jackson

yesterday, but he didn’t give us much.’
    Schneider’s mouth is provoked into action again. ‘Wait a minute. Have I missed something here? Yesterday you and Alvarez go talk to this pimp scumbag, who gives you zip. Later that
same day, Alvarez goes to see the same scumbag, only this time without backup. More specifically, without you , Doyle. You wanna explain to me how this situation came about, Alvarez going
into a potentially dangerous situation without his partner ?’
    The emphasis on the word ‘partner ’ is like a sharp jab in Doyle’s ribs. He doesn’t feel that Alvarez was truly his partner – they just happened to come
together and work jointly for less than a day. But he knows that the others won’t see it like that.
    He studies their faces. All eyes are on him, and irrespective of their feelings toward Schneider and the way he phrases things, it is clear that they think an answer is warranted.
    The problem for Doyle is that he doesn’t have one.
    He opens his mouth, unsure as to what words are about to spill out, but Franklin gets there ahead of him.
    ‘I can answer that. Cavell phoned the station house last night, looking to speak to Tony. Tony called him back on his cellphone, but he was careful. He recorded the
conversation.’
    ‘And we have it?’
    ‘We do. Tony’s car was found near the apartment on Seventeenth. The digital recorder he used was in the glove compartment. I asked the Eleventh Precinct to send me a copy of the
discussion between Tony and Cavell.’
    As he says this, Franklin reaches into his jacket and takes out his own voice recorder.
    ‘This will get back to you anyhow, so you may as well hear it now.’
    He switches the machine on, and the detectives listen in rapt silence as the recording plays through to its end. When it reaches the part where he is mentioned by name, Doyle feels the pressure
of numerous gazes being directed his way.
    Schneider says, ‘So, Doyle, what puts you on the blacklist of a slimy mope like Cavell? Any reason you can think of why he might not want you there last night?’
    ‘ You heard what I heard, Schneider. He wanted Tony there alone. He didn’t want any other cop there, not just me. He used my name explicitly because Tony brought it up
that he should call me. If you’d have been working with Tony yesterday, it would have been your name on that recording.’
    ‘Oh yeah. That’s right. You and Alvarez were working together. Just like you were working with Joe Parlatti, who also happens to be dead. And if we all care to cast our
minds back a little further . . .’
    ‘Oh, fuck you, Schneider,’ Doyle says.
    ‘Fuck you too, Doyle. All’s I’m saying is that it don’t take no Sherlock fucking Holmes to see a pattern developing here . . .’
    ‘All right!’ Franklin yells. ‘Can it, you two, for Christ’s sake. I lost two of my finest detectives yesterday. Two people I was proud to call my friends. They were your
friends too. Bickering like schoolgirls is going to get us nowhere.’ He aims a finger at Schneider. ‘If you think that Detective Doyle had anything to do with the death of any police
officer, in this squad or anywhere else, then you put it in writing. If you don’t want to do that, then I don’t want to hear any more insinuations.’ He takes his eyes off
Schneider, addresses the whole group. ‘From any of you. Understand?’
    He gets a few nods in return.
    ‘That said,’ Franklin adds, ‘there’s a bit more I need to tell you. This may be nothing, but it may be important, so you need to hear it.’
    Doyle catches a brief, almost apologetic, glance in his direction. Shit, he thinks. What now?
    ‘When Tony was being put in the ambulance, he said a name, “Doyle.” Then he said three more words: “Got too close.” Like I said, Tony was on the edge of dying right
then. He may have just been rambling. Any thoughts?’
    Schneider’s response is to expel air from the corner of his mouth in a kind of pfff