Dave extricated his hand from Matt's and waved the boys over. They moved closer, but stayed about twenty feet away. "Can't put anything over on you, Timothy."

Timothy scowled. "That's Super-T, man. I ain't in freshman history no more."

Dave just smiled. "I'm old, guy. I can't remember new names real well. These guys have a couple questions about something went on last week."

"I ain't been nowhere last week." Super-T began backing out, his friends flanking him.

"We're not looking at you, Timothy. Detective Ellison, maybe you can say what's going on?" Dave gave Jim a look that Blair could only interpret as "butch it up, please." The boys stopped moving.

Jim frowned but nodded. "Super-T, I'm going to get right down to it. Last week, a friend of mine was killed in an alley off Stonewall Street. We found Terror King colors right there."

"It ain't us, DeTECtive. We ain't killed nobody." Despite his words, he and his friends began to try to move again.

"You or someone in your gang robbed someone late last Monday night, and left him bleeding in an alleyway. You *can't* fool us about that."

The three boys looked at each other. "Hey! Mr. Michaelson, you tell'em. We don't hang round the fags at night. It's kinda the deal."

"Deal?" Jim looked at Dave.

Matt was the one who answered. "You got a deal, Super-T? Who'd you make the deal with?" His voice was quiet. As he turned to face the boys, Blair noticed something odd behind his sunglasses.

"No deal! There was no deal."

"Sure there was. The daytime, the place is yours, right? You get to sell your drugs and harass the fags for fun, and then you go back to your home territories at night, because someone else works Fagtown at night, right?" Blair controlled a shiver.

"What you know about that? Who are you?"

Matt took off his sunglasses. Blair held back a gasp. His left eye was swollen nearly shut. "I'm Matt Green. Detective Green. Let's just say I *know*. And a couple of your boys violated the deal, didn't they? They stayed out past their bed time."

"I don't have to talk to you, man. Right, Mr. Michaelson?"

"No, you don't." Dave grinned.

"I ain't under arrest or nothin'. I know my rights."

Jim smiled, too. "You *don't* have to talk, Super-T, but we *will* catch who killed that guy. It's only a matter of time. If we do it now, and with your help, maybe we'll let them off, seeing as it was really just a mugging gone wrong. If I catch them, they will be charged with negligent homicide. If you help us at all, I can make things go easier." He gave his head an aborted toss.

'James, you are *so* out of practice...' Blair hid his grin.

The kids noticed this action and looked at each other. "Are you a fag, or are you a cop?"

"Oh, I'm a cop. I'm the best. With my partner here, we solve practically *every* case we get. And we will solve this one. Now, you three going to help us?" Jim stared right at them.

The boys looked at each other. The one on Timothy's right bit his lips. "It wasn't them. They didn't mean nothing by it! Now they all scared!"

"RD, you don't say nothing!" The third boy tried to grab him but RD broke loose and ran to Dave.

"Mr. Michaelson, you gotta know, before this guy gets my brother. Don't let him get my brother, man." RD was practically shaking.