The Golem of Hollywood Read Online Free

important,” Schott said.
    â€œCan you be more specific?”
    â€œUnfortunately not,” Subach said. “Have you eaten anything? You want maybe grab a muffin or something?”
    â€œNot hungry,” Jacob said.
    â€œWe’re parked down by the corner,” Schott said.
    â€œBlack Crown Vic,” Subach said. “Get your car, follow us.”
    â€œWear pants,” Schott said.
    â€”
    T HE C ROWN V IC KEPT a moderate pace and signaled without fail, allowing Jacob to stay close behind in his Honda. His best guess for their destination was Hollywood Division, until recently his home base. A northward turn on Vine scuttled that theory, though, and as they headed toward Los Feliz, he fiddled with rising unease.
    Seven years on the job, he was green for Robbery-Homicide, the beneficiary first of a departmental memo prioritizing four-year college grads, and second of a plum spot vacated by a veteran D keeling over after three decades of three packs a day.
    That he had performed admirably—his clearance rate was consistently near the top of the department—could not erase those two facts from his captain’s mind. For reasons not entirely clear to Jacob, Teddy Mendoza had a king-sized hard-on for him, and a few months prior, he’d called Jacob into his office and waved a manila file at him.
    â€œI read your Follow-Up, Lev. ‘Frangible’? The fuck are you talking about?”
    â€œIt means ‘fragile,’ sir.”
    â€œI know what it means. I have a master’s degree. Which I believe is more than you can claim.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œYou know what my master’s is in? Don’t look at the wall.”
    â€œThat would be communications, sir.”
    â€œVery good. You know what you learn to do in communications?”
    â€œCommunicate, sir.”
    â€œBull’s-fucking-eye. You mean ‘fragile,’ write ‘fragile.’”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œThey didn’t teach you that at Harvard?”
    â€œI must’ve missed that class, sir.”
    â€œI guess they don’t get to that till sophomore year.”
    â€œI wouldn’t know, sir.”
    â€œRefresh my memory: how come you didn’t finish Harvard, Harvard?”
    â€œI lacked willpower, sir.”
    â€œThat’s the kind of smart-ass answer you give someone when you want to shut them up. Is that what you want? To shut me up?”
    â€œNo, sir.”
    â€œSure you do. I ever tell you I had a cousin who got into Harvard?”
    â€œYou’ve mentioned that in the past, sir.”
    â€œHave I?”
    â€œOnce or twice.”
    â€œThen I must’ve told you he didn’t go.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œDid I say why?”
    â€œIt was cost-prohibitive, sir.”
    â€œExpensive place, Harvard.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œYou had a scholarship, if I recall.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œLessee . . . An athletic scholarship. You lettered in Ping-Pong.”
    â€œNo, sir.”
    â€œVarsity nut juggling . . . ? No? What kind of scholarship was it, Detective?”
    â€œMerit-based, sir.”
    â€œ
Merit
-based.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œMerit-based . . . Hunh. I guess my cousin didn’t have as much merit as you.”
    â€œI wouldn’t assume that, sir.”
    â€œHow come you got it, and he didn’t?”
    â€œYou’d have to ask the financial aid office, sir.”
    â€œMerit-based. See, in my mind, that’s a lot worse than not getting a scholarship. In my mind, that’s the worst thing, when you have something and you piss it away. No excuse for that. Not even a lack of willpower.”
    Jacob did not reply.
    â€œMaybe you could finish up online. Like a GED. They got a GED for Harvard? You should look into that.”
    â€œI will, sir. Thank you for the suggestion.”
    â€œTill that day comes, though, you and I, our