Look at the facts. Okay, so Hardy is your friend, and an ex-cop. Ex-cops also kill people. And Hardy was apprehended-let’s not forget that, apprehended-there at the scene with a loaded weapon. Sure, he had his stated reasons, but why didn’t Glitsky suspect him? Well, he knew Hardy. Also, Hardy’s gun hadn’t been fired. Still…

He pulled over and glanced at the yellow pad full of notes next to him on the seat.

Start at the beginning, Abe. Like you’ve done a hundred times before. Look at the victim. There aren’t two victims, not yet. In spite of what Hardy might think, or say… There is one known victim. Her name is Maxine Weir and she lived at 964 Bush Street.

Louis Baker and Holly Park could wait. Let’s see who the facts point to.

He put the car back in gear, passed the freeway entrance and turned up Van Ness toward Bush Street.

Hardy didn’t even feel safe at the Hall of Justice.

He’d been there since before noon, trying to get his gun back. He had called Moses McGuire at home and asked him to trade shifts at the Shamrock. He had looked in at Judge Andy Fowler’s-Jane’s father’s-courtroom, but they had been in recess and the judge was not in his chambers.

They were being pissy about the gun. Glitsky was not above giving his friend a little object lesson in the letter of the law, and he had taken the weapon downtown so that Hardy could sign for its proper return, so the registration could be validated. Thank you, Abe.

But the gun had not even been logged in yet, and no one seemed in a hurry to get it done so Hardy could retrieve it.

Finally, realizing he probably wasn’t going to have much luck, he took the elevator upstairs to the third floor, where the assistant D.A.s had their offices.