and a half good?"
"Sure thing, Elias."
I needed a little break from bloodsucking freaks anyway. I pulled the envelope from the safe, rechecking the pictures on disk against the negatives. By the time my recheck was done, dusk and Elias were here. "Hey there, Jase," he said, ducking slightly as he entered. He really didn't have to—the doorway's seven feet high and he's six foot six—but it was a habit he had. Add a gangly frame, a sharp-edged nose, black hair, black eyes, and a slight stoop; Elias Klein always reminded me of a youthful buzzard. He came into my office to get a quick look. He liked them all, until we got to the last one.
"Nice joke, Jason."
"What do you mean, joke? It looks pretty good to me."
"Oh, sure, Assemblyman Connors looks just lovely. But without Verne Domingo to complete the picture it's nothing but a publicity shot."
I pointed to the next to last. "What about that one? They're swapping right there, what more could you ask for?"
"That's just a second-string doper, Jason! Domingo's the big man, and that is the photo that should show him."
I shrugged. "Too bad. Next time make sure he's in the picture."
"Don't give me that, Wood! I know he was in that shot, I was the one looking through the viewfinder."
I handed him the negative. "Look for yourself."
He stared at it. "What the hell?" Then he swung towards me. "Wood, you'd better not be dicking around with the evidence! I've been on this for eight fucking months, and if you're—"
"Oh, cut the tough cop act, Elias. Kojak you ain't. You know damn well that I only play jokes, I don't really mess with my clients' stuff. If
"Sure thing, Elias."
I needed a little break from bloodsucking freaks anyway. I pulled the envelope from the safe, rechecking the pictures on disk against the negatives. By the time my recheck was done, dusk and Elias were here. "Hey there, Jase," he said, ducking slightly as he entered. He really didn't have to—the doorway's seven feet high and he's six foot six—but it was a habit he had. Add a gangly frame, a sharp-edged nose, black hair, black eyes, and a slight stoop; Elias Klein always reminded me of a youthful buzzard. He came into my office to get a quick look. He liked them all, until we got to the last one.
"Nice joke, Jason."
"What do you mean, joke? It looks pretty good to me."
"Oh, sure, Assemblyman Connors looks just lovely. But without Verne Domingo to complete the picture it's nothing but a publicity shot."
I pointed to the next to last. "What about that one? They're swapping right there, what more could you ask for?"
"That's just a second-string doper, Jason! Domingo's the big man, and that is the photo that should show him."
I shrugged. "Too bad. Next time make sure he's in the picture."
"Don't give me that, Wood! I know he was in that shot, I was the one looking through the viewfinder."
I handed him the negative. "Look for yourself."
He stared at it. "What the hell?" Then he swung towards me. "Wood, you'd better not be dicking around with the evidence! I've been on this for eight fucking months, and if you're—"
"Oh, cut the tough cop act, Elias. Kojak you ain't. You know damn well that I only play jokes, I don't really mess with my clients' stuff. If