Page 43 of Feared


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“See you later.” Detective Azzic turned around as two more detectives came up behind him. “Oh, here we go. Here are Detectives Jason Krakoff and Jonathan Marks.”

Bennie straightened. “Good to see you again, Detectives.”

Mary introduced herself, shaking their hands, though she took an instant dislike to Detective Krakoff. He had a stiff formality despite his youth, and his eyes were ice blue and set close together, with a long nose. His chin was fashionably grizzly, his dark hair scissored into neat layers, and his eyebrows more well-groomed than hers. Mary hadn’t plucked her eyebrows or shaved her legs in forever. Basically, she was a hair factory.

Detective Azzic edged back. “Jason, you know Bennie Rosato, and her partner Mary is an old friend of mine. Your vic was a lawyer in their firm.”

“Right, I know.”

Detective Azzic placed a hand on Detective Krakoff’s shoulder. “Jason, I just briefed them on what you know so far. You can fill in the details.”

“You briefed them?” Detective Krakoff lifted an eyebrow, his expression impassive.

“Yes, but they know it’s confidential. I’ll leave you to it, but take good care of them. Mary’s one of my favorite people on the earth. If you don’t treat her right, her mom’s coming after me with a wooden spoon.”

Mary laughed.

Detective Krakoff nodded. “We’ll take it from here, Tom.”

“Sure.” Detective Azzic went to the threshold. “Good-bye Bennie. Mare, give my best to your family.”

“Will do,” Mary called after him, and Detectives Krakoff and Marks sat down opposite from Mary and Bennie.

Bennie shifted forward. “Detectives, John Foxman was a brilliant young lawyer and we all liked him very much. We want to see whoever killed him brought to justice. Do you have any suspects?”

“We’re not at liberty to discuss that.”

“Understood, and you have our word that we would keep it confidential. We’ve handled a great number of murder cases. We never talk to the press or anybody else, for that matter.”

“Nevertheless, it’s police business.” Detective Krakoff crossed his long legs.

“You may not know that Foxman had no family in town,only an aunt and uncle who live in Minneapolis. We’re essentially the only family he has in Philadelphia and—”

“You’re not family, though.”

“But we have an interest in knowing some basic information, like for example, if you have any suspects or witnesses.”

Detective Krakoff frowned. “It’s standard procedure not to disclose official police business during a murder investigation. We have already notified the victim’s aunt and uncle as next of kin.”

“Oh, how did you get their contact information?”

“Also police business.”

Bennie pursed her lips. “We understand that he was killed during a burglary, from a blow to the head. Do you know what he was struck with? Was it a gun? Did you recover it?”

“I regret that you were given that information. I’ll take you at your word when you say you won’t disclose it to the press.”

“Of course we won’t,” Bennie shot back, becoming irritable. “It’s obvious you don’t trust us, and I’m telling you that you can. Details of a police investigation are not discussed with the general public, but we certainly stand in different shoes than a stranger on the street. We’d like to know your findings so far.”

“That’s not how we work our cases.”

“I’m not asking you anything that won’t be in the newspaper tomorrow, if not the next day.”

“Then you can read it there. But you won’t hear anything more from me tonight than you have already heard.”

“Is it true that he was killed during the course of the burglary, from a blow to a head? Detective Azzic told us that much, so can you confirm?”

“Yes,” Detective Krakoff answered, without elaboration.