I should strike while the iron was hot, which translated to, find out now whether this idea has any chance of working, sooner rather than later, before I and other people devoted a lot of time to it. Speaking with Tyrone was a good place to start, if he was up to it—after all, he’d been shot just this week and couldn’t possibly be fully recovered. I had never wanted to find out how many times or where he’d been hit, but at least I knew he had been alert and talking to me earlier in the week. If he was home recuperating, I could see him there, if he didn’t object. If he didn’t feel he could handle it, I’d just have to wait. As I had told my staff, there was no deadline for my idea. The city wasn’t going to change quickly, and its problems were not going to go away. Before I could change my mind, I called the number that the detective had scribbled on the card. On the third ring, a man answered. “Tyrone? Is that you?” I asked. “Yeah.
