Free The Big Mitt (A Detective Harm Queen Novel Book 1) by Erik Rivenes

foul mood.
    Colonel Ames turned to Queen. “Please follow me, detective.” Queen followed him past the staring eyes in the waiting room and into the hall. “We need to speak privately,” he said as they walked.
    “Is this about what I just said?”
    “Among other things. Let’s go in here.” He pulled out a set of keys, and unlocked a room. As they entered, Queen noticed a young man sitting in a chair, reading a book. He wore spectacles and a silly, enraptured look on his face. The book fell out of his hands when he stood up to meet them.
    “Detective Queen, I’d like you to meet Tom Cahill.”
    “How do you do?” the man said. He was barely taller than five feet, with muscular arms and a thick neck. Queen could usually size up a man with a glance, but was struck by the oddity of this fellow.
    “Middling,” Queen replied stiffly. He turned to Ames. “Who is this?”
    “We’ve hired new detectives, and this is one of them. You’re to take him under your wing and show him the job.”
    “Frankly, sir, and no disrespect, but I’d like to decline. If you’re requiring teams now, put me with Kensington or Hall, or Norbeck at least. He annoys the hell out of me, but I’m used to him anyway. I’d rather not be encumbered, though, if I have a say.”
    “My brother told you that acting as a mentor will be a major part of your job from now on. We have other plans for Detective Norbeck. I’d appreciate you accepting this without argument.”
    “I’d appreciate it as well, Detective Queen,” Cahill chimed in buoyantly.
    Queen wheeled towards Cahill, who stumbled backwards in surprise.
    “Do you have any policing experience?” Queen growled.
    “Well, n-no sir. I was in the Army, though. I served under Colonel Ames.”
    “What rank did you hold?”
    “I was a private, sir.”
    “He’s a crack shot, detective.”
    “Most of what we do isn’t shooting. Being a fly means knowing how to sleuth. He’s going to find himself in some rough situations, and he needs to be quick with his tongue and his fists. It’s not often that I’ve had to use my pistol.”
    “Regardless, he is now a Minneapolis detective.”
    “If you say so, sir.” Queen was rankled beyond words, but held his tongue.
    “Something else. Tom, do you mind leaving the room now? I have private words to speak with Mr. Queen.”
    Cahill nodded solemnly. “Of course, sir.” He gave Ames a sloppy salute, and left.
    Ames turned to Queen. “This matter of the dead prostitute. I understand your suspicions, and appreciate your diligence, but this needs to be kept close to the vest. Once I take official command of the force, I’ll deal with this personally.”
    “There were reporters at the house when we found her.”
    “And you haven’t read about it this week, either. Fortunately, they work for newspapers sympathetic to the new administration, and will remain silent.”
    “What about Dander? Word will spread soon that he’s been arrested.”
    “Yes, of course, but it won’t be for murder. He’ll be tried and convicted of serving alcohol without a liquor license.”
    “He paid the license. I collected the money myself.”
    “Some kind of kidnapping charge, then. Those girls were inmates, and in a far worse situation than any woman working in a legal brothel in this city. I don’t want Mayor Ames to be embroiled in a murder case, because we can’t afford public sentiment to turn against this kind of business. Both you and I will lose our livelihoods if it happens. There is money in this, as you know, lots of money. There is also a line between murder and everything else. A murder poisons the whole pot. Women’s societies will call for our heads if this gets in the papers. But they’ll make the mayor a hero if he helps to break up a kidnapping ring. Can I be any clearer on this point?”
    Queen gritted his teeth. “No, you are very clear, sir.”
    “What’s wrong, Detective? This cold demeanor you portray with me is unlike you,