The police station smelled like old coffee and cleaning products, the kind that never quite covered the underlying odour of sweat and stress. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, making everything look pale and tired.
Vale and Vera walked side by side down the narrow hallway, their footsteps echoing on the linoleum floor. They had come straight from the safe house, still in casual jackets and jeans, carrying a small paper bag that Vera held loosely in one hand. The officer leading them was a middle-aged man with a moustache and a clipboard. He glanced back at them with a knowing smile.
"We've been expecting you two," he said, his voice friendly but professional. "The boss mentioned visitors might show up for the Corleone girls."
Vale returned the smile, keeping it light. "Thanks for letting us in so quickly."
