“They weren’t the only ones he gave up,” Healy said. “He gave you up, too.”
“What do you mean he gave me up?” Serpe was agitated. “He had nothing on me to give me up for.”
“Ralphy was crossing the line a long time before you ever knew, Joe. I.A.B. snagged him for doing small favors for some mob douche bag he grew up with. It was pretty harmless shit, but he could have lost his shield and his pension. I caught the case. When I asked Ralphy if he had anything to give me to save his ass, he offered you up. When my boss heard your name mentioned, he got a hard on. He wanted your legendary ass on his trophy wall.”
“But I was as clean as a guy in my spot could be.”
“I know that. I suppose I knew it then, but I kept pressuring Ralphy to come up with something on you or he was going down. You know all those times he asked you if you wanted to sandbag some of the blow or money before backup got there?”
“I remember.”
“It was all on tape, Joe. Some of those busts were I.A.B. setups.”
“But I never-”
“I know. If I had any real balls, I would have told my boss to shove the investigation up his ass. But then when Ralphy started using heavily and skimming, we had you,” Healy admitted, unable to look Joe Serpe in the eye. “When you didn’t report him. My boss had his trophy. I got the bump to detective first and your career was ruined.”
Joe didn’t say anything immediately. It took him a few minutes to digest Healy’s confession. How could Ralphy, his best friend and partner, godfather to his son, have so readily thrown him to the wolves? How could Healy have continued to pursue him in spite of all the evidence that he was clean? Healy waited, but when Serpe didn’t respond, he got up to leave.
“Well, Joe, I said it. I’m sorry for my part in it. Like I told you the night you were shot, nobody had the right to take your shield away and if I could undo it…
“Where you going?” Serpe said. “Sit your ass down.”
Healy did, breathing a huge sigh of relief.
“I spent the last four years looking back and I’m bone tired of it. You can’t undo what you did and there’s only one man ever walked the earth that could raise the dead. We’re stuck where we are, you and me, and I’m not going to shrink my life back down to nothing by losing anymore friends I make along the way. So consider yourself forgiven, okay?”
“Whatever you say.”
“All right, now go home and get some sleep. Tomorrow, I need you in here early so we can talk business instead of bullshit.”
“Business?” Healy furrowed his brow.
“Were you enjoying your retirement?”
“Christ, I hated every minute of it until three weeks ago.”
“Yeah, well, with this leg, it don’t look like I’ll be driving an oil truck any time soon.”
“There’s only two things ex-cops go into with any chance of success-bars and security.”
“Go home, Bob. In the morning we’ll flip a coin.”
Marla, her face still slightly puffy and bruised, sat in the darkest corner of the bar, nursing a light beer. In some bizarre way, she almost dreaded the doctors clearing Joe. Then she would have no more excuse to hold on just one more day. Dentists get cavities and doctors get cancer. Marla knew a Ph. D. in Clinical and School Psychology was no defense against Post Traumatic Stress. Already, her guilt over Kenny’s death had prevented her from paying a shiva call and the nightmares had started. Even now in a near empty bar, she felt as if all her nerves were firing at once, but this was an appointment she needed to keep.
“Doc? Doc is that you?” the woman asked, hesitating before taking a seat.
“Corral.” Marla brightened, leaning over and kissing her dark brown cheek.
“Hell, what happened to you, honey?”
“The night Kenny.”
“Yeah, I’m so sorry. How stupid a me. I read all ‘bout that. You okay?”
“I will be.”
“So what you call me for, Doc, not that I ain’t glad to see you or nothin’?”
Marla slid the VHS tape across the bar. “That’s yours to do with whatever you want.”
Corral stared at the tape, not wanting to touch it for fear of reliving the horror Toussant had inflicted on her all over again.
“He’s dead, Corral. He can’t hurt you anymore. You can have a small part of your life back. It’s over.”
Corral began sobbing quietly. “I know you meant well, Doc. He may be dead and all, but it ain’t never gonna be over for me. Some shit people take from you, there ain’t no gettin’ back. You take that tape and you burn it.”
The group home driver stood up and ran out of the dark bar.
“What got into her?” the barman asked.
“My wishful thinking.”
She tossed a five on the bar, put the tape back in her bag, and left. Outside in the parking lot, Marla sat in her locked car and wept for what felt like hours.
In early July, Marla and Joe made their way through the beautifully trimmed hedges and fresh cut grass. Joe’s limp was better and he had finally switched from crutches to a cane. The sun was bright but not blinding, warm on their faces but not burning. On days like this it was easier for Marla to believe things really could be all right. Her body had healed months ago, but she had come to understand Corral’s reaction that night in the bar. There are parts of your life once taken, that can never be taken back.
Cemeteries are supposed to be peaceful places, but in New York they always seem to be beneath the glide paths to airports. That was okay with Joe. Vinny had always been fascinated by planes. Now, after all these years, with Marla at his side, Joe Serpe was grateful there had been a body to bury. It was the first time he’d been to the grave since the day of the funeral. He crossed himself, uttering a prayer he thought he had long ago forgotten.
“Vinny, I’d like you to meet Marla. You’d really like her.”
Marla placed flowers on the grave and gave Joe some time to be alone with his brother.
About ten minutes later, she interrupted their reunion.
“Come on, Joe, we don’t want to miss your flight.”
In the car, he turned to her. “What do I say to him?”
“He’s your son, Joe. You’ll figure it out.”