“Are you going to report the break-in and vandalism?”
“I'm going to make repairs and pretend it didn't happen.”
Morelli acknowledged this and stared down at his shoes, making no move to leave.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“Lots of things.” He blew out a long breath. “About this case I'm working on . . .”
“The big top-secret one?”
“Yeah.”
“If you tell me about it, I won't tell a soul. I swear!”
“Right,” Morelli said. “Only Mary Lou.”
“Why would I tell Mary Lou?”
“Mary Lou is your best friend. Women always blab everything to their best friend.”
I slapped my forehead. “Unh. That is stupid and sexist.”
“So sue me,” Morelli said.
“Are you going to tell me, or what?”
“This is to be kept quiet.”
“Sure.”
Morelli hesitated. Clearly a cop between a rock and a hard place. Another exhale. “If this gets around . . .”
“It won't!”
“Three months ago a cop was killed in Philadelphia. He was wearing a Kevlar vest but he caught a couple high-penetration rounds square in the chest. One tore into his left lung; the other hit the heart.”
“Cop killers.”
"Exactly. Illegal armor-piercing bullets. Two months ago Newark had a real effective drive-by where the weapon of choice was a LAW—Light Anti-Tank Weapon. Army issue. Significantly decreased the population of the Sherman Street Big Dogs and turned Big Dog Lionel Simms's new Ford Bronco into pixie dust. The casing from the rocket was recovered and traced to Fort Braddock. Braddock ran an inventory and discovered some munitions missing.
“When we got Kenny into custody we put his gun through NCRC, and what do you think?”
“It came from Braddock.”
“Yeah.”
This was an excellent secret. This made life much more interesting. “What'd Kenny say about the hot gun?”
“Said he bought it on the street. Said he didn't know the vendor by name, but he'd work with us to try to make an ID.”
“And then he disappeared.”
“This is an interagency operation,” Morelli said. “CID wants it kept confidential.”
“Why did you decide to tell me?”
“You're in the middle of it. You need to know.”