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I said

‘Yeah, you’re welcome.’

He sipped it, said

‘Black and sweet.’

‘Like your soul.’

I said,

asked

‘What’s with the Chevy?’

‘Belongs to my boy, he’s at Art College, it needed a tune up so I took care of that.’

Night before, just as Shona was about to drift off, she asked

‘What do you guys talk about?’

The correct answer, or the one you give if you want to keep her is

‘You sweetheart.’

Women have deep, lay it all out there sharing. Guys?

like fook.

We talk sports

And

Sports.

Mostly.

We don’t EVER, use words like

Share

Bonding

And

Dr Phil

Is the great white dope.

Spain had taken The World Cup during the summer and I said to Merrick that the USA

were definitely getting their act together with soccer, their goalie, Howard had even been

with Man United. Serious fooking kudos. Merrick said

‘You guys are really into soccer, right?’

‘Shite yeah, I’d a few Euro on Argentina but they phoned in their crucial game.’

Then, Jesus, I was off and running, rapping intense about the beauty of Barcelona,

Torres

………when he cut me off

‘’Whoa buddy, I said I was mildly interested but a lecture, did I sign on?’

I did what any decent Irish guy would so

Sulked.

It was quite a drive to Queens so he glanced at me, said

‘Jeez, Ryan, come on, I didn’t mean that, tell me about Mara donna, wasn’t he the

manager of Argentina.?

I finished my coffee, thinking a Danish would have been good, but a smoke, that would

have been classic, like after love making but smoke in an American’s car?

Get outa here.

I said

‘He’s a flawed genius who has now become a genius who is flawed.’

Merrick laughed, said

‘Like I’ve one freaking notion what that means.’

Well, I tried and sometimes, trying is ultimately, trying.

That I kept to me own self.

I asked

‘So this guy?’

Merrick was watching of the exit, said

‘James P. Malone, an accountant, and like I said, no priors, no wife, no nada.’

He added

‘He lives and works in Ditmars Boulevard, it’s a predominantly Greek outpost and if

you’re real good this time out, I’ll treat you to Baklava and an espresso at Karyotins,

worth

the trip to Queens alone.’

We were cruising through Steinway, East of Astoria. I asked

‘Steinway, like in piano?’

‘Yup, he bought up the district for homes for his workers.’

He took his right hand off the wheel, pointed towards the bay, said

‘Off shore is Rikers, the most overcrowded joint in the city.’

We pulled up on 31st St, just a spit from Malone’s place. Merrick was about to launch, I

said

‘I got it, shut the fook up.’

He nearly smiled.

Malone’s building was neat, clean, discrete. A small wooden shingle advertising his

accountancy business.

We went in, a large open space, almost ten people working at PC.s, and a sing that led to

reception. This was a different set up to our Tribeca gig, the woman here was close to

seventy, no Lindsay Logan. I kind of liked the Tribeca mode. She looked up, rasped,

testifying to a life of nicotine,

‘Help you?’

Her tone, weary, like she gave a rat’s ass if she could or not, help us that is. She’d seen

some crap, and didn’t look like she was expecting to win the numbers anytime soon.

Her name plate read, M.Trenton.

Merrick said

‘Madam, we’ve an appointment with Mr. Malone.’

She looked up, Madam?……….took a moment, then

‘Oh the cop, yeah, go right in?’

We were about to when she asked

‘And who’s the hot babe with you?’

I loved her already.

Merrick, not so much..

Malone was the poster boy for accountancy, wearing glasses, a muted suit, hair done in a

comb over, the saddest sight on the planet, and a desk, not mahogany, but serviceable

steel, an air of bewildered wonder about him, he said

‘Officer Merrick and your partner, how can I be of help?’

Merrick didn’t correct him, said

‘Thank you for your time Mr. Malone, we’re investigating some child disappearances and

wonder if you might have ever seen these kids?’

No indignation form him……..no

‘What the fook you asking me about horrendous crimes for?’

Mr. Citizen,

if we’d said

‘We’re taking you in.’

He’d probably have put on the cuff’s his own self to accommodate us.

That was just horseshit to me, the guy was fookin with us on a whole different level or,

he was as dumb as he wanted us to think.

He looked, intently at the photo’s, said

‘Oh my Lord, no, sorry, I wish I could help.’

I was about to launch but Merrick stepped on my foot, hard. Said

‘Mr. Malone, thank you, wish all our inquires were met with so much candor.’

Outside, we got in the car, took the scenic route into the city, by the ugly airport.

Ten minutes in to the drive, I said‘

‘No baklava then, guess I didn’t do so good.’

He didn’t answer then suddenly swerved across two lanes of traffic, horns blaring, and

tire’s screeching, managed, barely to pull onto the verge. Turned off the engine, said

‘I owe you something’

Leaned over and smacked me right in the mouth, cracking my front tooth, muttered

“Now, we’ve even, you asked about Jewish people, now you know, we bide our sweet

fucking time.’

I watched the blood from my split lip roll down my off white shirt, didn’t make any move

to staunch it.

He said

‘Ryan, you had that coming, Ok? were doing good in there, but you, you wanted to step

all over the guy, scare the hell out of him, what’s your problem haven’t you got any cop

instincts?’

I pulled my door open, he shouted

‘Aw, come on.’

I reached in my waistband, pulled out my piece, leaned in the window, asked

‘And you, bollix, wanted to know about my background, open your fookin mouth, go on,

do it and see how cop!..………..I am?

He tried

‘Ryan’

I pulled the slide

He nodded, put the car in gear, burned rubber out of there.

I wiped my mouth with my sleeve, the gun hanging loosely in my hand, asked me own

self

‘Would you, would you have shot the prick?’

Said

‘I’ve got a personality problem.

Added

‘Checkmate.’

I’d read somewhere that Bobby Fischer was accused of being anti-Semitic.

Yeah?

‘MAN, IF BE INSUFFICIENTLY OR ILL-EDUCATED

HE

IS

THE MOST SAVAGE OF CREATURES.

PLATO…….(yeah, that guy).

The heavy chess tournament award flew across the room, shattering the full length

mirror. The man known formerly as

Gacy

Initials

Et Al

Was so angry he could fucking spit.

A lot.

He was wearing his Yoga gear, wanted to rip it to shreds.

Peace……………

Fucking A Mister.

The rage was building even more as he couldn’t see himself in the shattered mirror,