RANSVESTIA

had been a Detective/Sergeant, in the line of authority in the Department, now, with the abolition of the rank, he had been pushed upward even though there was no real job for another Lieutenant in Robbery/Homicide. Hence, his movement around, tieing up one loose end after another until Dwyer made up his mind what to do with Bud's "acting" status. Bud could feel that Jimmy Walsh also wanted to know what Hamilton's true status in the Department was -- but, since Bud didn't know himself, he couldn't do much to help the other.

(Later)

Clara was sitting up for Bud when he got home later that night, having checked that all replacements were in position and that backup was ready, should the Bassaglia situation ex- plode.

"Your brother called this afternoon," Clara said pointedly as soon as Bud has settled down in an armchair with his cup of strong, black coffee.

"And," Bud said as carefully as he could. At one time, Clara had accepted Alan and his 'problem' with much greater com- passion than Bud had been able to muster. But since Alan's divorce, she had begun to regard him in a different light, and sometimes she was downright rude to him.

"He's coming to see you tomorrow." Clara's face was set in firm lines. “I told him that you had to leave at four."

Bud nodded. "Did he say what he wanted?" he asked.

"He doesn't have to say," snorted Clara. "It'll be about money, anyway.'

"Oh, come on, dear," said Bud quite calmly. "We don't know that for sure, do we?"

"Well," Clara would not be placated. "Just how many jobs are there for a man like that?"

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