The Fourth Deadly Sin Read Online Free Page B

gladly.”
    Delaney knew that; in fact, Deputy Commissioner Thorsen had suggested it. But Delaney wanted to meet with the Acting Chief in his own home and get an idea of his life outside the Department: as good a way to judge a man as any.
    The apartment seemed mobbed with children-five of them ranging in age from three to ten. Delaney was introduced to them all: Michael, Jr Maria, Joseph, Carlo, and Vita. And when Mrs. Rosa Suarez entered, she was carrying a baby, Thomas, in her arms.
    “Your own basketball team,” Delaney said, smiling. “With one substitute.”
    “Rosa wishes to try for a football team,” Suarez said dryly.
    “But there I draw the line.”
    They made their guest sit in the best chair, and, despite his protests that he had just dined, brought coffee and a platter of crisp pastries dusted with powdered sugar. The entire family, baby included, had coffee laced with condensed milk. Delaney took his black.
    “Delicious,” he pronounced after his first cup. “Chicory, Mrs. Suarez?”
    “A little,” she said faintly, lowering her eyes and blushing at his praise.
    “And these,” he said, raising one of the sweetmeats aloft.
    “Homemade?”
    She nodded.
    “I love them,” he said. “You know, the Italians and French and Polish make things very similar.”
    “Just fried dough,” Suarez said. “But Rosa makes the best.”
    “I concur,” Delaney said, reaching for another.
    He got the kids talking about their schools, and while they chattered away he had a chance to look around.
    Not a luxurious apartment-but spotless. Walls a tenement green. A large crucifix. One hanging of black velvet painted with what appeared to be a view of Waikiki Beach. Patterned linoleum on the floor. Furniture of orange maple that had obviously been purchased as a five-piece set.
    None of it to Delaney’s taste, but that was neither here nor there. Any honest cop with six children wasn’t about to buy Louis Quatorze chairs or Aubusson carpets. The important thing was that the home was warm and clean, the kids were well fed and well dressed. Delaney’s initial impression was of a happy family with love enough to go around.
    The kids begged to watch an hour of TV-a comedy special-and then promised to go to their rooms, the younger to sleep, the older to do their homework.
    Suarez gave his permission, then led his visitor to the large kitchen at the rear of the apartment and closed the door.
    “We shall have a little peace and quiet in here,” he said.
    “Kids don’t bother me,” Delaney said. “I have two of my own and two stepdaughters. I like kids.”
    “Yes,” the Chief said, “I could see that. Please sit here.”
    The kitchen was large enough to accommodate a long trestle table that could seat the entire family. Delaney noted a big gas range and microwave oven, a food processor, and enough pots, pans, and utensils to handle a company of Marines. He figured good food ranked high on the Suarez family’s priority list.
    He sat on one of the sturdy wooden chairs. The Chief suddenly turned.
    “I called you Mr. Delaney,” he said. “Did I offend?”
    “Of course not. That’s what I am-a mister. No title.”
    “Well … you know,” Suarez said with his wry smile, “some retired cops prefer to be addressed by their former rank -captain, chief, deputy … whatever.”
    “Mister will do me fine,” Delaney said cheerfully. “I’m just another civilian.”
    “Not quite.”
    They sat across the table from each other. Delaney saw a long-faced man with coarse black hair combed back from a high forehead. A thick mustache drooped. Olive skin and eyes as dark and shiny as washed coal. A mouthful of strong white teeth. - He also saw the sad, troubled smile and the signs of stress: an occasional tic at the left of the mouth, bagged shadows under the eyes, furrows etched in the brow. Suarez was a man under pressure-and beginning to show it. Delaney wondered how he was sleeping-or if he was sleeping.
    “Chief,”