It was the lead story on the ten o'clock news: "More violence erupted tonight in the Wicker Park area as an on-going drug war continued to extract its grisly toll. Here with a special report, live from the scene, is Caroline Cody."
The reporter stood before the minicam, and a cold wind whipped her hair. The flashing lights of the massed emergency vehicles bathed her face in blues, reds and whites.
"Three persons died tonight in a hail of bullets fired from a passing car, raising to six the number killed in recent weeks. Witnesses tell me that none of the three had any connection with the drug traffic rampant in this neighborhood or with the gangs that control it.
"Tonight's incident is only the latest episode in what has become one of the Chicago's most severe problems: the wholesale violence associated with the drug trade and the cold-blooded murder of innocents caught in the crossfire."
Caroline turned slightly, and the camera swung to include the man standing at her side. "Police Superintendent Jack Mahoney is here with me now. Superintendent Mahoney, what is your reaction to this shooting?"
"I'm horrified, of course. When drug dealers begin to take over the streets of our city making them unsafe for average citizens, it's time to take a stand," Mahoney said, his voice grim.
"Effective immediately, I'm ordering that the entire Intelligence Section of the Chicago Police Department direct one hundred per cent of its efforts against the major drug organizations operating in our city."
"That's certainly welcome news, Superintendent, but isn't the Intelligence Section understrength?"
Mahoney's eyes flicked down at Caroline Cody, then quickly back to the camera. "By tomorrow morning the unit will be fully manned; I guarantee it," he said, a slight edge to his voice.
Half-way across the city, Ray Warren and his partner, Billy Butcher, sat at opposite ends of the couch in Warren's living room and listened as the superintendent outlined his plans.
The two cops, twenty year veterans of the Chicago Police Department, had been partners in the Detective Division for the past five years. They were the kind of cops bosses love to hate: love because they excelled in their job far beyond the standard; hate because there was no rule too small for them to bend or break.
They listened as Caroline Cody's interview with Mahoney ended with his announcement of an eleven A.M. news conference at police headquarters the following morning.
Warren levered himself up from the couch, moving with an easy grace. He pushed his sandy hair back from his forehead and turned toward the kitchen. "Another beer?"
"Sure; we got nothin' special to do tomorrow," Butcher said, shifting his two hundred and fifty pounds into a more comfortable position and scratching at the heavy, dark stubble of beard that had accumulated since his morning shave.