School of Fish (Fish Out of Water #6) - Amy Lane Page 0,17
when he fell down the stairs,” Kryzynski said with a grimace, “so yes. He might be unconscious for another two days. Christie—my partner, Andre Christie—stayed with him. He’ll buzz me if he wakes up anytime today, and we’ll have someone staying tonight.”
“Okay, then,” Jackson said, “more about Mr. No Luck anon—”
Henry snorted, holding his hand up in front of his mouth so he didn’t spray noodles everywhere.
“Anon,” Jackson repeated. “Look, you guys, I was stuck at home for eight weeks. I read a lot. Anyway, this story ends with me looking on her desk. It was not Dostoyevsky, which makes me glad the poor woman was staying in her office with a cop until her husband came to pick her up. It was Dobrevk, which was damned close. So I have the Dobrevk file right here, and Ellery has a file he thinks might be hinky too—”
“It’s at the office,” Ellery said. “Since we didn’t pick up Galen, I didn’t get it.”
Jackson grimaced. “Well, we’ll look at it later. You give us the gist now. I think it would be a good idea to show and tell so we can figure out why the unconscious guy was so damned excited to break into the lawyer’s office. What do you think?”
Kryzynski was unwrapping a set of chopsticks before digging into his own bowl of meat, veggies, and noodles. “That,” he said soberly, “is a fantastic idea.”
Jackson opened his own file and nodded to Ellery. “Ellery goes first.”
Ellery started to go over the Townsend file from memory, and Jackson took notes on the back of the Dobrevk file.
When Ellery was done, Kryzynski burst into a long, colorful bout of swearing.
“Goddammit,” he muttered. “Goddammit. What in the hell is that? Why would the police report say a pocketful of drugs and the kid maintain there were only three? Who would gain from such a stupid lie?”
“It would get a conviction,” Ellery said, like explaining to a child.
“But why? Why pick on this one kid? What was so special about this one football player that these guys had to go after him?” Kryzynski rubbed a hand over his short blond hair, his hard blue eyes flashing. “It’s so dumb. I thought…. I mean, after last year, you know?” He looked at Jackson pleadingly, and Jackson got it.
“You thought all the dirty cops were put away,” Jackson said softly. Last year at this time, he and Ellery were working their first case together, trying to clear Jade’s twin brother’s name. Kryzynski had been skeptical, at first, that the authority he trusted so implicitly could be as corrupt as any criminal, but Ellery had believed in Jackson, and Jackson had believed in the truth.
“Yes!” Kryzynski snapped. “Yes! Is it so much to ask that everybody who works this job not be a scumbag?”
“You have no idea what happened here,” Jackson said softly. “When we get back to look at the file, let’s see which cops were on the scene. Let’s see who signed off and searched the kid. Maybe a dirty cop, sure. But maybe someone was putting pressure on him elsewhere. This kid was singled out for a reason, one he might not even know. But if we can get hold of some of his friends, some of the people from that party, maybe we can figure out what happened.”
Kryzynski nodded and shoved his bowl of noodles away. “Okay. Yeah. You’re right. But this looks bad, Jackson. The one Black kid at a party singled out for a drug bust for drugs that really weren’t his? Wait. What are you smiling about?”
Jackson hadn’t realized he was until Kryzynski said something. “You… do you hear yourself? Who do you believe, Sean?”
Kryzynski blinked tired eyes. “Ellery. The kid, I guess. I mean, you guys don’t sell bullshit. If Ellery’s taking this case, the kid must be telling the truth.”
“Damn.” Jade blew out a low whistle.
“Right?” Jackson said, nodding at her.
“Wait. What’s the big deal? And everybody finish your goddamned food. Kryzynski! Jackson! I’m talking to you.”
They all looked at Henry, who glared back at them.
“What? I mentor a bunch of bulimic fucking porn stars. You guys eat your fucking food or I’m gonna lose my fuckin’ mind. And somebody tell me what the big deal is!”
“I believed them,” Kryzynski said after a moment. He pulled his bowl back and took a bite. “A year ago, I would have dismissed this kid’s story. Stupid teenager. Not necessarily because he was of color, but because he wasn’t a cop.”