Murder in the Rue St. Ann
“Ann @page { margin-bottom: 5.000000pt; margin-top: 5.000000pt; } Chapter Twelve Fortunately for patrol cop Sean Mallory, it’s against the law to strike a police officer. Within a few minutes of meeting him, I was tempted to knock out a few of his teeth.
I was sitting on the bottom step of Paul’s staircase, on my third cigarette when the patrol car came swooping up, sirens blaring and lights flashing. You’d think this would bring the neighbors to their windows to see what was happening, but twe...nty years of an ever increasing crime rate has deadened New Orleanians to the sound of police sirens. Two cops got out and approached me. One was an older black man with gray at his temples and in his mustache, and a bit of a belly. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked.
I gave it to them as briefly as possible, and the black cop, whose name was Stallings, went up to poke around in Paul’s apartment, leaving me down with Sean Mallory, his partner.
“You know we can’t file a missing persons report for twenty four hours.”MoreLess
I was sitting on the bottom step of Paul’s staircase, on my third cigarette when the patrol car came swooping up, sirens blaring and lights flashing. You’d think this would bring the neighbors to their windows to see what was happening, but twe...nty years of an ever increasing crime rate has deadened New Orleanians to the sound of police sirens. Two cops got out and approached me. One was an older black man with gray at his temples and in his mustache, and a bit of a belly. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked.
I gave it to them as briefly as possible, and the black cop, whose name was Stallings, went up to poke around in Paul’s apartment, leaving me down with Sean Mallory, his partner.
“You know we can’t file a missing persons report for twenty four hours.”MoreLess
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