The Brooklyn sun bakes the brick, and the distant wail of sirens is a constant, humming promise. Here, on a late afternoon corner, Detective Gino Felino moves with quiet authority. He steps between a shopkeeper and a blade, a low word and a sudden turn of a wrist sending steel clattering across the asphalt. But justice is a fleeting victory. Down the block, a car door slams. A pistol shot crack...
