Random Victim Read Online Free Page B

headed down the hallway he remembered a joke he’d heard someone tell about a female bodybuilder: She’s working out so
     she can develop into the man she always wanted to marry. He wondered what they were feeding these gals nowadays that they
     ended up looking like that. Put her out on the street, he thought as he passed the range, she’d kick a man’s butt, that’s
     for sure.
    The winding staircase leading to the upstairs offices was just down the hall, and he glanced at his watch. Ten thirty-five.
     Not too bad a time for his post–grand jury appointment with Captain Sean O’Herlieghy, who would brief him on his reassignment.
    It’s time to get my butt kicked now, Leal thought as he started up the stairs.

CHAPTER FOUR
    A Campaign Issue
    The middle-aged secretary in the outer office glanced at Leal as he approached. Behind her he saw the pebbled translucence
     of the glass door of the captain’s office. It looked ominous.
    “May I help you?” the secretary asked.
    “Sergeant Frank Leal. I have an appointment with Captain O’Herlieghy this morning.”
    She picked up the phone and pressed one of the intercom buttons. After a moment of hushed conversation, she replaced the phone
     in its cradle and told him to go right in.
    “The captain’s expecting you,” she said.
    I’ll bet he is, Leal thought. But at least it would be his old mentor giving him the bad news. Maybe he’d let him down easy.
    As Leal reached for the doorknob he saw a shadow behind the opaque glass and suddenly the door swung open. Sean O’Herlieghy
     stood there, smiling broadly.
    “Frank,” he said, extending his hand. “Get your butt in here.”
    Leal shook hands and was surprised at the captain’s grip. It seemed overly flexed, as if he were trying to impress Leal or
     maybe break his hand. O’Herlieghy motioned him over to a green chair in front of a big gunmetal gray desk. Leal sat, feeling
     his mouth begin to dry up. The captain’s desk was relatively uncluttered, except for a two-foot-high pistol-shooting trophy
     that sat off in the left corner. The gold cop figurine on top had his handgun extended, pointing right at whoever was sitting
     in the padded green chair. Leal’s mouth suddenly felt a bit drier. But the sooner he got the bad news, probably the better.
    “So how you been, Frank?” O’Herlieghy asked, settling into the chair behind his desk. “You all healed up?” He was a big man
     in his late fifties with sparse red hair combed over from one side. This gave his face a rather longish appearance, and didn’t
     adequately hide the numerous places where his scalp shone through from under the long comb-over. His face looked weathered
     and massive, with an almost bulbous nose and pendulous jowls. A latticework of red veins climbed the tip of his nose and appeared
     again on his lower right cheek. O’Herlieghy leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk.
    “I’m okay, Captain. Getting better every day.” He must be setting me up, so he can let me down easy, Leal thought.
    “Good, good. That’s what I hoped you’d say.” O’Herlieghy reached in his desk drawer and removed two cigars, extending them
     toward Leal.
    “No, thanks, I quit,” Leal said. But he was tempted to take one just to have something to do with his hands.
    O’Herlieghy nodded, stuck one of the cigars in his mouth, and put the other back in the drawer. He took out a lighter and
     held the flame to the cigar’s rolled tip, puffing copiously to get it started.
    “Times are a-changin’, Frank.” He drew on the cigar and exhaled a cloud of smoke with a smile. “Ahhhh, they don’t allow you
     to smoke in the damn building anymore, except in designated areas. Ain’t that a bite in the ass?”
    Leal nodded, thinking that the pungent smell made him feel better than it should have.
    “My point being,” O’Herlieghy said, taking another draw, “is that when the times change, you gotta change with them, or you
     get left behind.