Bread (87th Precinct) by Ed McBain Page A

been painted out; the middle window read D IAMONDBACK D EVELOPMENT , I NC. The third floor of the building was occupied by a firm that announced itself, in fancy script lettering, as BLACK FASHIONS.
    Elizabeth came out of the building not a moment after she had entered it.
    She came out at a dead run, shoulder bag flying, skirt riding high on her long legs as she ran in seeming panic up the street. Hawes did not try to stop her. He crossed the street quickly and went into the building. A well-dressed black man was lying in the lobby, bleeding onto the broken blue-and-white-tile flooring.His eyes were rolled up in his head and he was staring sightlessly at the naked light bulb in the ceiling. A four-inch-long scar ran jaggedly through the cuts and bruises and open bleeding wounds on his face.
    Hawes figured he had found Charlie Harrod.

 
    In Roger Grimm’s office, downtown on Bailey Street, Carella did not yet know that another body had turned up in Diamondback. All he knew was that two arsons and a homicide had already been committed, and that Roger Grimm had a police record. (It was true, of course, that Grimm had paid his debt to society. But some debts can never be paid, and a police record is rather like a stray wolf you’ve taken in on a dark and snowy night: it follows you for the rest of your life.)
    Carella had spent all morning in court and was armed with a search warrant, but he preferred not to use it unless he had to. His reasoning was simple. Grimm was a suspect, but he did not want Grimm to know that. And so both men went through a pointless dialogue: Carella trying to hide the fact that he already had a warrant in the pocket of his jacket lest Grimm suspect he was a suspect; and Grimm trying to hide scrutiny of his records, a maneuver suspicious in itself.
    “When did I become a suspect in this?” he asked, straight for the jugular.
    “No one’s even suggesting that,” Carella said.
    “Then why do you want to go through my files?”
    “You’re anxious to clear up this business with the insurance company, aren’t you?” Carella said. “I assume you’ve got nothing to hide…”
    “That’s right.”
    “Then what’s the problem?”
    “I’m a businessman,” Grimm said. “I’ve got competitors. I don’t know whether I like the idea of someone having access to my files.”
    “Consider me a priest,” Carella said, and smiled.
    Grimm did not smile back.
    “Or a psychiatrist,” Carella said.
    “I’m not religious, and I’m not crazy,” Grimm said.
    “I’m merely trying to say…”
    “I know what you’re trying to say.”
    “That I’m not about to run to the nearest importer of little wooden animals and reveal the inner workings of your operation. I’m investigating arson and homicide. All I want…”
    “What’ve my records got to do with arson and homicide?”
    “Nothing, I hope,” Carella said. “Frankly, I’d like nothing better than to go through them and be able to report to your insurance company…”
    “Companies.”
    “ Companies, that you’re clean. Isn’t that what you want, too, Mr. Grimm?”
    “Yes, but…”
    “Officially, the warehouse arson is Parker’s case. Officially, the fire in Logan belongs to the Logan police. But the Reardon homicide is mine. Okay, I’m here for two reasons, Mr. Grimm.First, I’d like to help you with your insurance company… companies. That’s why you came to me, Mr. Grimm, remember? To get help, remember?”
    “I remember.”
    “Okay. So if, first, I can help establish your innocence with the insurance people, and, second, get a lead onto the homicide, I’ll go home happy. What do you say, Mr. Grimm? You want to send me home happy, or you want my wife and kids to eat with a grouch tonight?”
    “My books and my correspondence are my business,” Grimm said, “not the Police Department’s.”
    “When Parker gets back from vacation, he’ll probably want to look at them, anyway. And he can get a warrant, if he has