“—all I’m saying is that he had it coming,” Jean shrugs one shoulder, hand in his pocket; flicks ash off his cigarette with his other.
“He died,” Judit reminds him, turning the page of the newspaper.
“And not soon enough. If I—”
“Hey! Stop that kid!”
Both officers look up to see the shopkeeper yelling and a teenager with his hood pulled up making a run for it, clutching something to his chest. No one else reacts but Judit, in the kid’s path, steps aside to give room. Before Jean can ask what she’s doing, she reaches her hand out and grabs the thief by the elbow, the motion pulling her a couple steps back but she’s stronger than she looks, holding steady. While the kid squirms and fights and swears, he’s unwilling to let go of the goods to get free.
“Knock it off, bub, we’re RCM.” Jean flashes his badge and the kid pales, lessening his struggle but not going easy.