For one reason or another, many of the cops I used to know have left the force and the new breed seems more interested in computer spreadsheets and printouts than in clocking faces. There seemed to be more women on the premises than I remembered from my last visit and several Asian faces. Some of the better old hardheads like Grant Evans, who’d stretched the rules for me a few times when I first got into the PEA game, would have struggled to accommodate these developments and made the adjustment more or less. But Grant had gone down to a force nine coronary a few years back, and I didn’t like to think how close we were together in age. The needle on the parking meter swung into the expired zone just as I reached the Camry. I gave it the finger, deactivated the alarm, opened the door and the mobile phone buzzed. ‘Hardy,’ I said, crouching into the car. ‘Cliff, this is Claudia. I’ve been trying to get you on the other numbers, but . . .’ There was an edge to her voice, not hysteria or panic but in that territory.
What do You think about The Washington Club (2014)?
