I said
‘Marathon Man’
I’d lost him, he said
‘You’ve lost me.’
’William Goldman, made into a movie with Hoffman, Laurence Oliver.’
He was surprised, said
‘I thought you didn’t read.’
I don’t, my ex was a huge fan of mystery, I suppose no bigger mystery to her than why
she married me.’
I let the bitterness leak all over my tone.
Merrick ambushed me, asked
‘What was her name?’
‘Why?’
“Because it’s important to you.’
Fook.
I said
‘Roisin.’
‘And your daughter?
I needed a smoke, said
‘Got to make a piss.’
Got outside, fumbled for my cigs, my Zippo, my throat choked. Jesus, I had as they say,
compartmentalized
My feelings, especially about Siobhan, that’s Joan in English and in the heart, all the woe
I know. She was six now, six years without her Dad. My last call to Roisin, to see if they
needed any money, she’d told me Sioban called the new husband……….Dad.
I bit down and swallowed hard.
Crushed the cig under my converse sneaker, turned to see Merrick, he touched my
shoulder, said
‘The tab is paid, wanna grab a night cap.’
I did.
He took me to The Mansefield Hotel, up on 54th, across the road from The Algonquin.
Even I’d heard of Dorothy Parker. The bar there was lined with books and we ordered
some Sam Adams, I said
‘Flash place.’
He smiled, said
‘You believe it, an Irish guy introduced this place to me.’
So you have to ask
‘A friend?’
He shook his head, said
‘The guy was a writer, they don’t really do friends I hear.’
Thought about it, said
‘Writers are no mystery if you know you are just part of the plot.’
Too deep for me. I raised the beer, asked
‘This is good, right?’
He nodded, said
‘They might have cursed us with The Red Sox but they make decent beer.’
‘IF NIETZSCHE IS CORRCT THAT TO SHAME A MAN IS TO KILL HIM.
Merrick And I decided to walk to the subway, then he’d catch the train to Long
Island. We were back to talking about Gacy or who-the fook-ever he was. We
decided to pay a visit to one of the suspects the next day, and Merrick mused
‘Which one first?’
I said
‘Let’s flip a coin.’
We did and the dentist in Tribeca was first up.
He nodded, said
‘The Dice man.’
I went
‘Who?’
He swore, said
‘Luke Reinhart, buddy, we’ve got to get you reading some books.’
I let that linger then
‘’Don’t sweat the small fings George.’
‘What?’
‘Michael Caine to Bob Hoskins in ‘Mona Lisa. We’ve got to get you watching
some movies mate.’
I could see the small smile touch his lips.
The walk was bracing, the night air clearing away some of the booze fumes.
Merrick asked me
‘So, when we pay our guy a visit, you want to be good or bad cop.?’
I didn’t answer for a time and he said
‘Come on, you guys worked that gig in The Guards?’
I said it was a little different. He pushed me so I said
‘Ok, there was the bad cop and there was the complete bollix.’
He laughed out loud.
He felt my sudden alertness, looked ahead, saw what I’d seen two beats before,
three guys, heading our way, fast and lethal. Merrick went
‘Uh-oh.’
The lead thug said
‘You ladies want to hand over your wallets.’
Merrick sighed, asked
‘You dumb fuck, can’t you see I’m carrying a weapon?’
The guy looked at his buddies, sneered
‘Yo, homes, you see this muttahfuck carrying anything more than a big stick?’
They laughed, the crystal meth one, high, like a hyena in grief, and merciless.
Then he reached in his windbreaker, pulled out a magnum, it looked big, ugly in
the light from the street, he said
‘Now me sweetcakes, I got me a serious piece of iron here.’
He guffawed again, and his crew joined in, major mistake, checking to see his
buddies appreciation. I saw Merrick take the moment to adopt the hitters slide
stance, balanced on his right foot, swung the hurley with all his force. I heard
bone crack and the magnum went sailing into the New York skyline. The guy
screamed
‘Goddamn son of a bitch, you gone broke my arm.’
He stared in disbelief at his shattered limb, a piece of white bone, visible. He
shouted at his crew
‘Take that asshole down homes, gut him like a bitch.’
One stepped forward with a long knife. Merrick balanced again but I stopped his
arm, asked
‘May I?’
The second guy had learned his knife skills from the movies, ie, all flash and no
skill. I let him lunge, even gave him a second feint, then kicked him in the balls,
using my knee to shatter his nose as he went down. The third guy was uncertain
what to do. The odds were not exactly shaping up. While he dithered, Merrick
said
‘For fuck’s sake, make up your goddamn mind.’
Took him out with a neat clip to the side of the head.
He wasn’t even out of breath, said
‘Christ, I needed that.’
He hefted the hurley in his large hands, said
‘This sucker has a fine balance.’
I said
‘Made from the ash.’
He laughed, went
‘Like I know what the hell that means.’
When we parted at the station, Merrick seemed like he might even hug me but I
blocked that, said
‘Whoa big guy, us Irish, we’re too macho for that shite.’
He laughed, clean and hard, asked
‘Where’d you learn to handle a knife guy?’
‘Bad neighborhood.’
‘Patrolled it, yeah?’’
‘Nope, we called it home.’
Not for the first time, he seemed about to say more but settled with
‘You’re a piece of work, you know that but I had me a fine full day.’
I agreed, said
‘And Galway won.’
Looked at his Hurley, added
‘Twice.’
SON OF SAM.
He stared at himself in the full length mirror, seeing what he had projected, a man of
Power
Wealth
And
Fame
Thank you the Rolling Stones.
He’d quickly tired of Berkovitz, Son of a Damn idiot more like. Had toyed with
the idea of
a……….The Zodiac.
b……….The green River Killer.
As a, had never been caught and b…………well, let’s say, the Jury was out still
on that baby.
The new name came.
Alton D. Brown.
He laughed out loud.
An amalgamation of Alton Coleman and Debra D. Brown. See how smart those Private
Dicks were.
And give a bit of showtime to those neglected folks. The duo, were believed to be guilty
of at least eight murders but then, who’s keeping score. Plus, abductions, beatings,
robbery thefts, sexual assaults of every hue. He shouted
‘My kind of party animals.’
He loved Brown’s un-repentant stance, in court she hollered
‘I killed the bitch and I don’t give a damn, I had fun out of it.’
Ah sweet thing, you had to love her.
As she awaited execution she wrote