Fear Her Wrath

Chapter 36

I met Sarah Corrigan on the same corner in Joplin Heights where she first put a gun to my head then gave me her phone number. It was early Wednesday evening, and a light snow was falling. Corrigan was already there when I showed up, talking on her cell phone as she paced in the slush gathering on the rooftop. We were both ten minutes early.

"Funny, sounds like that's exactly what you're asking me to do," she was saying as I pulled myself up from the fire escape. "Yeah, I know it doesn't look good for the department, but I don't see how that's the victim's fault... Mmhmm... If you're going to do that anyways, I'm not sure why you're telling me... I'll do my job, you do yours."

She cursed under her breath as she hung up.

"Workplace drama?" I asked.

Her lips curled into a grim smile.

"You could say that. You know, about three years ago, when I told myself I was going to do the right thing from now on, I knew it would probably cost me any chance of further promotion and make me very unpopular in the squad room. I never expected it to feel so pointless."

She handed me my bag, which I immediately opened to make sure all my gear was accounted for. Everything was still there. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"I know that feeling," I said, pulling the bag over my shoulder. "It seems like ever since I put Colborne in the ER, everything I do goes wrong."

Corrigan looked at me with an amused expression.

"You're doing alright," she said, putting a motherly hand on my shoulder. "Considering that you're... what, sixteen?"

"Something like that," I said evasively. I wasn't about to admit to being fifteen and eight months. Corrigan gestured for us to sit down on the ledge.

"I wish I was out trying to change the world when I was sixteen," Corrigan mused. "I wasn't even trying to change the world when I became a cop. At least you've got the right priorities."

"It doesn't feel like changing the world," I said. "It mostly feels like I'm ruining my life and making things worse for everyone else."

Corrigan raised an eyebrow.

"Boy troubles?"

Dang it. I hated the way Corrigan could see right through me. I guess reading minds was a useful talent when you investigated sexual assault for a living. I'd have to get her to tell me her secret someday.

"I like to think of them as 'me troubles' that just happen to involve a boy," I said, looking down at my boots. "It's just... the same things that make me good at this beating up criminals in masks thing also make me... a little toxic."

Corrigan chuckled.

"Well, I'm the wrong person to help you with that. I gave up dating a few years ago—around the same time I transferred from homicide to the SVU and decided I should think about people other than myself. Sometimes doing the right thing isn't great for your mental health. My therapist thinks I have a martyr complex."

She looked straight at my mask, and there was a playful glint in her eyes.

"My pastor says Jesus loves me anyways, which almost balances it out."

She started feeling around in her winter coat, like she had just remembered something.

"You said Psychosis knows who you are?" she asked as she finally found a half-empty pack of cigarettes.

"Yeah," I said, surreptitiously turning on the filter on my mask as she lit her cigarette and took the first puff. "Which would be bad enough if he only knew my name and address, but... it's like he's been studying me. Maybe 'stalking' is more accurate. Anyways, he knows a lot."

"Ex-boyfriend?"

I scoffed. Lewis Brattle probably went around telling people I was his ex, but as far as I was concerned, "ex-boyfriend" was an empty category.

"No, somebody at my school. I've... got a friend looking into it."

"How many suspects?" asked Corrigan.

"I think we've narrowed it down to... seventy-three?"

Corrigan almost choked on her cigarette as she tried and failed to stifle a laugh. I was glad my mask concealed the flush spreading over my face.

"So what's next?" she asked when her coughing fit finally subsided.

"Well," I said hesitantly. "This'll sound weird, but... I'm trying to find out why Stefano Genovese was murdered."

"The Lord High Executioner's brother?"

"Yeah. I think he's somehow the key to... whatever is going on in this city. You know, the Imperium."

Corrigan took another puff then extinguished her cigarette in the snow.

"My last bad habit. Well, I can't tell you why he was killed, but I can tell you who did it—Angelo Lupo's crew."

She smiled at my evident confusion.

"Angelo Lupo's been dead for ten years," she explained. "He was the first of the Montagnese gangsters Tommy Genovese murdered. Execution-style, with marks on the body that suggested a lot of torture before he finished the job. That was what gave Tommy Genovese his name. Augusto Vaccari took over Lupo's old regime."

"But you don't know why they killed him?" I pressed. "I mean, why Lupo's men killed Stefano?"

"As far as I know, nobody does," said Corrigan, checking her watch.

"Tommy Genovese did," I said darkly. "So, I'm retracing his steps. Maybe I can find out the same way he did."

"I hope you're right," said Corrigan, climbing to her feet and brushing off her coat. "I've got a visit to pay to the city coroner's office. See if I can save this case I'm working on before the higher-ups bury it. See you around?"

"Sure," I said. "I've... got a friend in Norbury to catch up with. Hopefully he can point me in the right direction."

"Good luck," said Corrigan. She waved as she disappeared through the roof access door, leaving me alone on the empty rooftop.

"Thanks," I mumbled. "It would be a nice change."