Chapter 14
“Hey, George, Quentin here.”
“What’s up, Q?”
“I’m at my desk with a client, we’re on the speaker, and we need your advice.”
“In what way?”
“He owns a bar, and I can pretty much prove that two of his bartenders are robbing him blind. What we don’t know is what kind of evidence we need to nail them—he wants them put behind bars for as long as possible.”
The three of us discussed the situation for several minutes until we agreed that we had a workable plan. Then, of course, we had to discuss manpower. “Quentin,” George finally said, “do you know Sergeant Carl Johnson?”
“Red hair, mid twenties, that Carl?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve met him a couple of times when I had breakfast at the Derby House, and you were there with him.”
“Good. He’ll be the point man on this, and he’ll be escorting Lieutenant Sanchez. She’s pushing forty but still has a nice figure and is half Cuban, half Irish, so they’ll make a striking couple.”