Manhattan Is My Beat (Rune 1)

"Which one is his?" she asked stridently. "How far down is it?" She gestured at the stack of folders.

The captain--the one she'd met in Mr. Kelly's apartment--breezed in. He glanced down with a splinter of recognition but didn't say anything to her.

"They want to hear today," he told Manelli. "About the tourist killing."

"They'll hear today," Manelli said wearily.

"You got anything?"

"No."

"The mayor. You know. The Post. The Daily News."

"I know."

The captain looked at Rune once again. He left the office.

"We're doing everything according to procedures," Manelli told her.

"Who's the tourist?"

"Somebody from Iowa. Knifed in Times Square. Don't start with me on that."

She said, "Just let me get this straight: You're no closer to finding Mr. Kelly's killer than you were yesterday."

On Manelli's desk, opening up like a mutant flower, was a piece of deli tissue around a mass of corn muffin. He broke off a chunk and ate it. "How 'bout you give us a day or two to make the collar?"

"The ...?"

"To arrest the killer."

"I just want to know what happened."

"In New York City, we've got to deal with almost fifteen hundred homicides a year."

"How many people are working on Mr. Kelly's case?"

"Me mostly. But there're other detectives checking things out. Look, Ms. Rune ..."

"Just Rune."

"What exactly is your interest?"

"He was a nice man."

"The decedent?"

"What a gross word that is. Mr. Kelly was a nice man. I liked him. He didn't deserve to get killed."

The detective reached for his coffee, drank some, put it down. "Let me tell you the way it works."

"I know how it works. I've seen enough movies."

"Then you have no idea how it works. Homicide--"

"Why do you have to use such big fancy words? Decedent, homicide. A man was murdered. Maybe if you said he was murdered, you'd work harder to find who did it."

"Miss, murder is only one kind of homicide. Mr. Kelly could have been a victim of manslaughter, negligent homicide, suicide...."