Two uniformed men entered behind him. While one of them produced handcuffs Thompson began reading Francis her rights. Hannibal interrupted him by standing between him and the woman, allowing barely an inch of free space between their chests. “Mind telling me just what the hell you’re doing?” Thompson breathed liver and onions down into Hannibal’s face. “What I’m doing is arresting a suspect. You want to add interfering with an arrest to harboring a fugitive?” “A fugitive?” Hannibal said. “Since when?” “Oh, since about a half hour ago,” Thompson said. He looked past Hannibal to Francis who was flanked by the other two policemen. He smiled at her the way the winner of a chess game smiles at the loser. “The lab boys finally finished their analysis of the wounds and guess what? Looks like Oscar Peters was killed with the same knife that went into Grant Edwards. Same weapon, same approach, same entry point. That was enough to get me a warrant to come in here. Lucky thing I had a tail on the great detective here.”
