Mama kept the place pretty clean, but she was old. What was the point of putting in a window over the sink? The plywood wouldn’t break-it kept out the wind. It made the kitchen dark, but dark was safer. The whole house was dark.

“I know ’bout out there, Mama. Here’s what I do, so you don’t worry. I go see the man, he set me up or not. Come back here and start setting up.”

“Set up what?”

He stood up, leaning over to kiss her. “The house, Mama. We gonna clean house.”

“Hardy in chains,” Glitsky said. “I like it.”

“It is a good time,” Hardy agreed. He had stood up when Glitsky entered the living room, and now one of the patrolmen was unlocking the cuffs. “Damn, those things work good.” He opened and closed his fingers, rubbing his wrists, trying to get the circulation going. “If this affects my dart game, I’m suing the city.”

Glitsky, ignoring Hardy, asked Patrolman Thomas if he could stand outside and direct the homicide-scene team below as it arrived.

When he went outside the other patrolman, Ling, said, “The body’s in there.”

Glitsky nodded. “What are you doing here?” he asked Hardy.

“Long story.”

“With a loaded gun?”

“Makes it longer.” He shrugged. “It’s registered. I’ve got a permit.”

Ling spoke up. Glitsky realized he was the shortest cop he’d ever seen. When he had come up there’d been a minimum height requirement of 5'8", but some court had ruled that since many Asians were under this height, the rule unfairly discriminated against a class of people and therefore had to go.

Ling was about 5'5", but since he had been the one left below to handle Hardy if he got feisty, Glitsky assumed he could take care of himself.

“Can I see the gun?” he asked.

Ling handed over Hardy’s weapon. He checked the cylinder and clucked disapprovingly. “It’s loaded,” he said to Hardy.