Detective Malidec sat down from his five-nine frame and reviewed the report in front of him.  It was a one-page report, and it took him little time to read it.  “I’ll be damn,” he said as he read.

“What’s it saying?” Officer Hunter asked.

They were at the Philadelphia police precinct, and Malidec had just been given the background he had requested on the woman in those dock photos.

“Her name is Nikki Tarver,” Malidec said.

“She’s connected to the mob too?” Hunter asked.

“The mob?  No.  Shady business?  Oh, yeah.  This girl ain’t no good girl.  Her old man ran a prostitution ring, and he went to federal prison for transporting hoes across state lines to hook them up with johns.  Her ex-husband went to prison too.  But get this: they both believe she ratted them out to the Feds.”

Hunter was surprised.  “No shit?  But if that’s true, what is somebody like her doing with a stone-cold gangster like Teddy Sinatra?  You think she’s undercover for the Feds?”

“Maybe.  But there’s more.  According to our guys at the LAPD, five days ago the super in her building just happened to turn up murdered in his own apartment.  Murdered, mind you, mob-style.  The cops even refer to it as a mob execution.  And then suddenly, out of the blue, she appears in Philly with none other than Teddy Sinatra, the heir-apparent to the Sinatra fortune.  The heir-apparent to the Sinatra Crime Family, although they’d never admit such a thing exists.  But nobody in this town knows her.  Nobody had ever seen her with Teddy before.  But she suddenly appears.”

“What are you thinking?” Hunter asked.  “You think she had something to do with that murder?”

“Or Teddy did it for her,” Malidec said.  “Or,” he added, “she’s an informant for the Feds and is using Sinatra to get intel.”

“Damn,” Hunter said.  “Is this woman that hot that Teddy Sinatra would commit murder for her?  Or overlook the obvious?”

“She’s not my cup of tea.  She’s one of those black chicks.”

“She’s black?”

“Oh, yeah. You know the type.  Gorgeous face.  She’s got the face all day long.  She’s a gorgeous girl.  But she’s what you call full-figured, or curvy, with the big ass. You know.  Just not my type.”

“But maybe Sinatra’s?”

“Apparently definitely Sinatra’s!  He was proudly parading her at the docks three days ago.  She’s got to be something special to him.”

“And here I was thinking his ass was gay because he was always alone,” Hunter said.

“He wasn’t alone,” Malidec said.  “Unlike his old man, who fucked everything moving, Teddy’s been very discreet with his women.  But he had his share.”

“They like these black women, don’t they?  Sinatra had two that we know of: his daughter’s mother, and his current wife.  He’s got a sister who’s half-black.  And now Teddy’s got one.  Who do they think they are?  The Kardashians?”

“This chick is Teddy Sinatra’s first one,” Malidec said. “At least from what the guys who used to pull surveillance on him said.”

“Surveillance that didn’t find a thing out of line,” Hunter said.   

“Those Sinatras are usually very careful,” Malidec said.  “But maybe, with this new lady love in the son’s life, not as careful as they think.  Contact our guy at the FBI.  Tell them I need some info.  I want to see if they have anything on this girl.”

“I’ll get right on it,” Hunter said as he moved to leave.

“And Hunter,” Malidec said, “make sure you tell him one of the subjects of this info is a Sinatra.”

Hunter smiled.  “With pleasure,” he said, and left.