"No shit?" Nick said, scratching down Langford's words on an empty notepad in front of him. "The word rolling through here was that a guard got hit."

"Ha! Donny Strock was standing right next to the guy and caught a little blood splatter, but according to the boys down there, the shooter got what he wanted, one clean head shot, and that was it."

"Where was it, Jim?" Nick said, trying to see the scenario in his head. He was familiar with the layout of the jail and the attached courthouse. "This wasn't some kind of Jack Ruby thing, was it?"

"No. No. It was outside, Nicky. Just as they were walking this asshole up the steps to the rear intake door. The security gate back there was already closed. It was a long-distance shooter is what the guys said."

Nick knew from covering too many perp walks the layout of the jail's sally port. They always kept the reporters and photographers out on the sidewalk. The automatic gate was always closed before the bus or van guards even opened the doors and led the prisoners out.

"Any I.D. on the dead guy, Sarge?" he said.

"You ain't quoting me, right, Nicky?"

"Have I ever?"

"I hear it was that asshole who raped those two little girls a few years ago and then killed them when they threatened to tell," he said and then went silent, trying to remember the name, just like Nick was.

"Come to think of it, that was probably one of your stories, wasn't it? The woman was homeless and sleepin' in the park?"

The communications guys were notorious for scanning the newspapers for crime stories, mostly to laugh at how the department put out the news versus the way they knew it really went down. Since Nick talked to them every day, they especially liked to stick him when he got it wrong. They also paid attention when he got it right.