Rising Sun: a Novel
“It was 2:45 a.m. when I came around a curve and saw the two black and whites with their lights off, and Graham’s tan sedan, parked to one side. Graham was standing with the patrolmen, smoking a cigarette. I had to go back a dozen meters to find a place to park. Then I walked over to them.
We looked up at Eddie’s house, built over a garage at street level. It was one of those two-bedroom white stucco houses from the 1940s. The lights were on, and we heard Frank Sinatra singing. Graham said, “He’...s not alone. He’s got some broads up there.”
I said, “How do you want to handle it?”
Graham said, “We leave the boys here. I told ’em no shooting, don’t worry. You and I go up and make the bust.”
Steep stairs ran up from the garage to the house.
“Okay. You take the front and I’ll take the back?”
“Hell, no,” Graham said. “I want you with me, buddy. He’s not dangerous, right?”
I saw the silhouette of a woman pass one of the windows. She looked naked. “Shouldn’t be,”MoreLess
We looked up at Eddie’s house, built over a garage at street level. It was one of those two-bedroom white stucco houses from the 1940s. The lights were on, and we heard Frank Sinatra singing. Graham said, “He’...s not alone. He’s got some broads up there.”
I said, “How do you want to handle it?”
Graham said, “We leave the boys here. I told ’em no shooting, don’t worry. You and I go up and make the bust.”
Steep stairs ran up from the garage to the house.
“Okay. You take the front and I’ll take the back?”
“Hell, no,” Graham said. “I want you with me, buddy. He’s not dangerous, right?”
I saw the silhouette of a woman pass one of the windows. She looked naked. “Shouldn’t be,”MoreLess
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