The latter were easy to identify. They were the ones whose heads snapped up the minute Chief Mark England stepped into the place. Carmen and the others moved through the front dining space and headed for the back room. England glad-handed his way through the crowd, slapping cops of every rank on the shoulder and calling them by name. The man’s memory was impressive. The SDPD had more than twenty-seven hundred employees. She didn’t know if England knew them all by name, but watching him work the crowd made it appear so. The back room was empty, unusual for a Friday evening. They passed through a small crowd waiting for seats. Jimmy must have cleared the room for them. She wondered how many meals he had to comp for that. Two tables had been pushed together. Their number had grown by one, with the addition of Captain Darrel Simmons raising their number to six. The table was set with chips and salsa and glasses of water. Carmen’s fanny had barely touched the seat when Jimmy Chen appeared, his Asian face lit like a kid’s on Christmas morning.
