A White Mercedes Pulled Up to Gate Six on a Tuesday Afternoon Without a Permit
“It came down signed.” He closed the folder and held it against his chest.
“You have a hearing the second week of September.
Bring a lawyer.”
Behind him the two clerks in the back room had stopped typing.
Neither of them looked up.
“He’s your commander,” I said.
“You could walk down the hall and ask him what it’s for.”
Miller looked over my shoulder at the duty board.