Page 76 of Top Dog

He slid the evidence bag with the ring across the table until it bounced against my forearm.

“I do,” I said.

“That’s your ring, isn’t it?”

“No.”

“That’s your family’s insignia, right?” Johnson asked.

My eyes panned over to him, and I grinned at the bruises still marking his face.

“How did it feel?” I asked.

“How did what feel?” Johnson asked.

Then my eyes fell to the two-way mirror behind them.

“I’m being set up,” I said.

“Care to explain how that is?” the detective asked.

“That isn’t my ring. It’s my family’s crest, but it’s my father’s ring. It was stolen from my house about a week ago,” I said.

“And you’re just now figuring out your father’s ring was missing?” the detective asked.

“Tradition in our family says people are buried with their rings. I didn’t think to look for it because I assumed it was in my father’s grave,” I said.

I whipped my gaze over to Johnson and leaned back into the seat.

“You know, you put up a good fight that night,” I said.

“What night?” Johnson asked.

“You know. The break-in. I know you were one of the men who broke into it. Specifically, the one that tried to kill me,” I said.

“His injuries are from a car accident, Mr. Martine,” the detective said.

But my eyes panned from Johnson’s and fell onto the silent investigator in the corner.

“You seem competent,” I said. “Are his bruises and injuries consistent with that of a car accident?”

The silent investigator looked over at Johnson before he grunted.

“Actually, if you look really closely, you can see the knuckle imprints on his cheek. I wonder what would happen if I balled up my fist and held it up to the bruise,” I said.

“You aren’t laying a fucking finger on me, you disgusting piece of shit,” Johnson said. “You were at the docks that night, and you slaughtered those men in cold blood. Just like your father would have.”

“How does Stefano’s payroll feel?” I asked.

“You’re dodging our questions,” the detective said.

“Does Stefano pay you too?” I asked the detective, just going on a hunch.

“I believe he does.”

The door swung open, and Langley as well as Bradshaw

walked in along with a woman with a badge that said “Internal Affairs.” I watched Johnson’s face grow pale as the detective’s face reddened, and the nameless investigator in the corner stood up and walked over to my side.

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