“It was a spider’s web, a little tiny spider’s web.”
I felt a chill.
“Duff, you all right?” she asked. “You look like you saw a ghost.”
“Nah, just got me thinking, that’s all.”
“Hey, I’m going to run,” she stood up. “Can I get a hug? I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
“We only had two sessions, Sherrie.” She hugged me and held on for a moment more than the customary clinical hug.
“Uh-huh, sure,” she said. “Just the same, you were a big help.”
“Well, thanks and good luck.”
“You too, and Duff?”
“Yeah?”
“You might want to ice that hand,” she said.
She winked, smiled, and headed out the door to Brooklyn and what I hoped was a new life.
12
I had some amends to make, and despite the fact that I wasn’t looking forward to dealing with Kelley’s anger, I wanted to face him. I owed him an apology, so I headed to AJ’s right after work so I could be there when he arrived.
I also had an ulterior motive. Sherrie said that the tattoos the three from Forrest Point had were spiderwebs. That’s a pretty common jailhouse tattoo, though it’s one usually sported by bikers around their elbows. With that group, it signifies the fact that they had the distinction of having committed a murder, kind of like how Cub Scouts get merit badges. I was dying to know if Kelley knew anything about spiderweb tattoos and if they had any relation to Walanda’s “Webster.” Still, I was a bit nervous asking Kelley for any information tonight. When it came to favors, my account was in the credit column.
I was distracted from my anxiety by the Fearsome Foursome who were already in mid-evening form, even though it was barely six thirty. TC and Rocco were in a heated debate centered on wedding rice and birds.
“You can’t throw rice at weddings anymore because the ASPCA outlawed it,” said Rocco. “The rice gets eaten up by the birds and it expands when it warms up in their stomachs and they blow up.”
“That’s bullshit,” said TC. “You’re thinking about seagulls and Alka-Seltzer. If you give seagulls Alka-Seltzer, they explode in mid-air because of the fizziazation.”
“If you use Minute Rice at a wedding, do the birds blow up faster?” Jerry Number Two said, pausing to sip his Cosmo.
“God, Jerry, you did way too many drugs,” said Jerry Number One.
“You’re right, there,” Jerry Number Two said. “One time I was tripping and somebody gave me a bunch of those Pop Rocks and a Dr Pepper. I was in the emergency room for eight hours. I felt like a seagull at a wedding.”
I was three-quarters of the way through my first Schlitz when Kelley came in. Trying not to be obvious, I studied his face for how he felt. As usual, Kelley’s facial expression didn’t give anything away. He took his usual spot.
I motioned to AJ to set Kelley up with a beer. AJ is often a pain in the ass but he knew his trade. He sensed there was a tension between Kelley and me and he stayed out of it. Almost imperceptibly, he opened Kelley’s beer and slid it in front of him.
“Thanks, Duff,” he said.
“Kel, I owe you an apology. I’m sorry if-” Kelley interrupted and I didn’t get to finish.
“Oh, your little ‘Duffy for Hire’ deal?”
“Uh, well yeah.”
“Well, I know you private eyes kind of live on the edge a bit,” he said. “Shoot from the hip, live for the moment. I know, I’ve read the books,” he said.
I deserved Kelley’s sarcasm and I wasn’t going to argue with him. He wasn’t looking at me and he was trying to be nonchalant, but I could tell he wasn’t happy with me.
“Look, you were way out of line, and it could have cost me my job,” he spun around on his stool and looked me right in the eye. “If you want to get killed living out some vigilante fantasy, that’s your business. Next time leave me out of it.”
“I’m sorry, Kel,” I said.
“It’s fine. The guy’s going away for a long time so the end result is that another piece of scum is off the street. Besides, I got a special commendation from the chief for my actions… geez.”
“I’m glad you didn’t get into trouble over it.”
I was tempted to make a joke about the heroics but decided against it. Kelley was a man of principles and what mattered to him was that my irresponsible actions could’ve screwed him. The fact that the results were positive was incidental.
AJ set us up again, again on my tab. Kelley didn’t protest. I decided to chance asking Kelley about the tattoos.
“Kel, what do you know about jailhouse tattoos?” I asked.
“Oh, now we’re just making conversation?” he said.
“I did a group in the jail and these three tough-looking women from Forrest Point all had small spiderwebs tattooed between their thumb and forefinger.”
“Look, ‘Duffy for Hire,’ didn’t we just have a little talk about you retiring from the gumshoe life?”
“C’mon, Kel,” I said. “I’m just curious.”
“I’ve never heard anything about it. Bikers have ’em on their elbows sometimes, but that’s something different.”
“Yeah, I know. Do you think it has anything to do with the ‘Webster’ stuff Walanda was talking about?”
“Duff, you watch way too much TV.”
With that, he half turned to direct his focus on the TV. The Yankees were off, so the TV was on ESPN Classic. They were showing a 1984 USFL game between the New Jersey Generals and the Arizona Wranglers. Kelley acted like it was some storied rivalry akin to Notre Dame and USC, and fixed his attention on the screen. I decided to let it go.
The Foursome, like a dog with a bone, was still chewing on the seagull/rice/Alka-Seltzer dilemma.
“TC, it’s a known fact,” Rocco said, raising his voice. “Accept when you’re wrong.”
“How come you don’t see dead birds all in front of churches if it’s true?” TC said.
“How come you’re just an asshole?” Rocco said.
“I heard about a lady,” Jerry Number Two said. “She tried to dry off a guinea pig in a microwave and the poor thing blew up.”
“The guinea pig or the lady?” asked Jerry Number One.
“I don’t remember,” said Jerry Number Two.
“That happened to me once,” TC said. “I put a chicken liver in the microwave for the cat,” said TC.
“What the hell kind of voodoo were you practicing?” said Rocco.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up and was counting out money for my bill and AJ’s tip when Kel spoke without looking away from the Wranglers’ classic touchdown drive.
“How many times did you hit him?”
“I hit him with a one-two and then a body shot. Then I slammed his head into the bumper twice,” I said.
“The one-two landed on the nose? The head slam was on the side of his head?”
“Yeah.”
“The scumbag’s nose was halfway over to his ear,” Kelley stayed focused on the television. “It separated right off his face, you know.”
“Yeah,” I said. I turned for the door.
“Duff,” I turned back around. Kelley was still watching the game. “Nice combination,” he said.
I headed past the Foursome and went home. I was halfway home when it dawned on me that my mysterious Crown Vic friend wasn’t tailing me. I smiled to myself, thinking about how my imagination can run wild, but I didn’t get to smile for long. Just as I was pulling into my driveway, a silver Crown Vic passed the Moody Blue heading the other way.
13
“Hey Duff.” I hated it when Sam greeted me first thing in the morning. Actually, as I thought about it, I hated when Sam greeted me regardless of his timing.
“Yes, Sam?”
“How can you tell when a Polack chick has been using a vibrator?” Sam smiled.
“Gee, Sam, I don’t know. How can you tell when a Polish-American woman has been using a vibrator?” I said.
“Her front teeth are chipped.” Sam really got a kick out of that one, and before I could say anything, he disappeared and went back to the business office.