Free Triad Death Match by Seth Harwood

for what’s next.
           “Thank Christ I didn’t have to call them.”
           Jack looks at the surface of the desk. The faster he gets out of here, the better. “Let’s get to why you wanted to see me.”
           Hopkins’s nostrils go big as he takes a hard breath for a two-count, and then a new look comes over his face: calmer, if only by a little.  
           “ He was what I wanted to discuss with you. Our dead cop is the guy you fingered from that mess at the Coast, the cop with Tony Vitelli and the Russians.”
           “O’Malley.” Jack still remembers the name from when Vitelli introduced them. “So it’s a bad cop going out with the trash. Who cares?”
           Hopkins gives a short laugh and shakes his head. “You know, Jack, it should be that easy. But a couple of things are more complicated here. There’s more we need to discuss.”
           “So discuss.”
           Hopkins frowns, looks around the office again. “I been looking hard at O’Malley since you dropped the dime, back before your little vacation.” He waves his index finger around in a circle, as if he’s swirling a cheap drink. “We brought in that bald Russian, did our best to pin a case on him, but he walked. Motherfucker lawyered up like a politician and skated on illegal duress. Know why?” Hopkins smiles a big fake smile.
           “Maybe I had a little something to do with it.”
           “Ah, yeah. But I watched O’Malley, and nothing came out right. He’s been working something—something big. A stakeout in North Beach that involves some hinky shit.”
           “Hinky?”
           “Like the girl in his backseat. But also a special direct line to the commissioner. I can’t even get a straight answer on what he was really working.”  
           A knock comes from Hopkins’s door, and Jack can see the silhouette of a big cop through the smoked glass. Hopkins makes a face. “Come in!”  
           A stocky Asian with a blue shirt and tie pushes his head into the office.   He’s got his hair spiked on top and shaved on the sides. On the side of his neck, Jack can see a few wisps of hair flairing out. He eyes Jack as if he’s putting some pieces together, figuring things out. “Meeting in ten,” he says.
           Hopkins tells him he’ll be there, and the other cop closes the door.
           “Morning meeting, Jack. Today’s going to be a live one. On top of all this, we got Walnut Creek saying it’s their case.”  
           Jack turns to the door again, checking the glass for shadows. “Why’d he look at me like that?”
           “Matsumoto?” Hopkins raises his eyebrows, then his shoulders. “That one’s on you, pal.”
           “How about his hair? Can you explain that mullet?”  
           “Not that either.” He frowns. “People are going to be pissed at this meeting. Can you imagine trying to keep this story out of the press?”
           “But they’re your old friends, aren’t they?”  
           Hopkins shoots Jack a hard look. “Even if I could have enjoyed the story they did on you and the mess you made of your marriage and your acting career, there was nothing I could have done to stop them if I tried. Fact is, Jack, you created that whole damn mess by yourself. You and your lovely ex-wife. At some point, you’re going to have to accept that.”
           Jack bites his lip. Part of him knows the cop is right.
           “What I’m saying—” Hopkins puts his finger to his legal pad. “We have to talk about this later. Where can I find you this afternoon?” Hopkins stands up and offers his hand to Jack across the table. “Don’t say it here. Call my cell later and leave a message.”
           Jack stands and, confused, takes the cop’s hand and gives it a brief shake.
           “We didn’t even get to the real reason I came in. I