Уильям Макгиверн - Rogue Cop

Something about her touched a faint responsive chord in his memory. There was a teasing familiarity in the way she sat at the piano, her back perfectly straight, thin shoulders squared and her small head raised as if watching for something on the horizon. Carmody ran her face and body through his mind as if it were a fingerprint card in a selector machine. He tried to match her up with friends and enemies, with places and crimes, but the effort produced no answer to the little query in his mind.

“She’s good,” he said to Eddie, making it warm and friendly. “What’s her name?”

“Karen Stephanson.”

That meant nothing to Carmody. “Is she a local product?”

“No, she was born in New York. But she’s worked all over the country, I guess.”

“How did you get to know her?”

“Well, this place used to be on my beat. I came by one night when it was raining and she was waiting for a cab. She lives near here, at the Empire Hotel. I called the district from the pull box and got one of the squads to drive her home.”

Carmody smiled. “Very neat!”

“Well, I stopped in to hear her sing a few times, and then asked her for a date. That’s all there was to it.”

“Is this a serious deal?”

“With me it is. I don’t know about her.”

Carmody patted his brother’s shoulder, still smiling. “Look, if any ninety-eight-pound female thinks she is too good for you just tell her about the Kings of Ireland. Hell man, we’re direct descendants.”

“Don’t forget the family castles and hunting lodges,” Eddie said, responding to the lighter mood. “There must be castles every square yard over there. I never met a Mick whose family didn’t own one or two at least.”

Smiling at him, Carmody thought, he’s serious, all right. And with Eddie that wouldn’t mean one-night stands. He’d want it all the way, with an apartment, babies, diapers on the radiators, the works. “You want to marry her?” he asked.

“I guess I would,” Eddie said, coloring slightly.

“Good, keep that in mind,” Carmody said. “Now without getting sore, let’s go back to Delaney.”

“We’ve settled that,” Eddie said shortly, his mood changing.

“Listen to me, Goddamnit. You won’t marry anybody unless you play ball. Get that through your thick head. You’ll be dead.” I’ve got to sell him this, Carmody thought, but for the first time he felt a tug of anxiety. Supposing he couldn’t? What then?

“Let’s drop it,” Eddie said angrily. Then his face softened, and his eyes became helpless and vulnerable. “I’m not judging you, Mike. Maybe you’re the smart one. And maybe I’m a dope, like you say. But I like it the way I am. Can’t you see that? I don’t like fighting you. It gives me a charge to see you, and to kid around about the Kings of Ireland. That’s fine, for some reason. But let’s drop this other thing.”

“If I do you get killed.”

Eddie smiled crookedly. “Well, I haven’t anything too big on my conscience.”

“Damn it, stop talking like the old man,” Carmody said, snapping out the words. “What about this girl? Will you do her any good lying on a morgue slab?”

“Leave the old man out of this,” Eddie said.

“Okay, forget him. But stop talking like a child.”

“I’m no child. I can handle myself.”

“Dear God,” Carmody said, raising his eyes to the ceiling. “Now you’re going to be a hero. Stand right up to a crowd that just about holds the whole state in its hands.”

“Maybe I’m not so alone as you think,” Eddie said. “Supposing I go to Superintendent Shortall with your deal. What about that?”

Carmody smiled gently. “Shortall’s no knight in armor. He works for the same boss as I do.”

“That’s not straight.”

“Wouldn’t I be likely to know?”

Eddie stared at him, swallowing hard. Then he said bitterly, “Yeah, you’d know about that, I guess. So Shortall is on the take too.” He suddenly pounded a fist on the table. “The big phony. Him and his speeches about our responsibility to the community, about being good citizens first and good cops second.”

“Fine, get mad,” Carmody said, nodding approvingly. “That’s a healthy reaction. It’s the first step toward getting smart. Now listen to me,” he said, fixing Eddie with his cold hard eyes. “I’ve been through all this. Do you think they’ll let you be a good cop? Sure, if you don’t bother them. You can be as efficient as you like on school crossings, but they’ll break you in two if you stick your nose into their business.”

Watching Eddie’s troubled face, Carmody realized that it was time to ease off, to let the seed he had planted grow. “What happened to our drinks?” he said. “Let’s have another round; okay?”

“Does that include me?”

It was the girl, Karen, who spoke. She was standing beside their booth, smiling pleasantly at Eddie.

“Good gosh, I didn’t even notice you’d stopped singing,” Eddie said, and started to get to his feet. But she put a hand lightly on his shoulder and said, “Never mind, I’ll slide in beside you.”

“This is my brother, Mike, Karen. Mike, this is Karen.”

They smiled at each other, and Carmody said, “What would you like to drink?”

“Scotch, please. On the rocks.”

Carmody gave the waiter their order, then looked at Karen. “We were just talking about you in connection with Kings of Ireland,” he said.

“Cut it out, Mike,” Eddie said, grinning uncomfortably.

“I don’t understand. Should I?” Karen said, smiling at Eddie.

“No, it was just a gag,” he said.

She’s a cool little cookie, Carmody thought, studying her with interest.

She realized that he was taking her measure but it didn’t disturb her; she sipped her drink slowly and gave him time to draw his conclusions. There were girls who would have resented his deliberate appraisal, but her manner remained poised and friendly. She was better-looking up close, he thought. Her eyes were very lovely, deeply blue and steady, and there was a hint of intelligence and humor in the turn of her soft, gently curving lips. She wore her brown hair parted in the middle and clipped behind with a small silver barrette. Against the dark wood of the booth her bare shoulders were white and square. She held herself very handsomely, chin raised, back straight and her hands resting in her lap.

They talked casually until Eddie glanced at his watch.

“I’m taking Karen out for a sandwich, Mike,” he said. “This is her only break before she gets through at two.”

“Perhaps Mike would like to come with us.” She spoke to Eddie but she was watching Carmody, taking his measure as he had taken hers.

“No, I’ve got to get back downtown,” he said, knowing Eddie didn’t want him along. Karen understood that, he saw. She finished her drink and put out her cigarette, changing the mood with these little gestures. “We’d better go then, I think,” she said.

Carmody paid the check. Karen excused herself to get a wrap and Eddie went off to make a phone call. Carmody stood alone, flipping a coin in one hand, and staring at his tall, wide-shouldered figure in the bar mirrow. He’d made a good start. Eddie had something to think about now, and when a man started thinking he was usually getting on the right track.

He turned, still flipping the coin, and saw Karen coming toward him with light quick steps. She carried a stole over one arm and he could hear the click of her high-heeled sandals above the murmur of laughter and conversation. And then he noticed that she was limping. It was a very small limp, just a slight favoring of her left leg, but the sight of it touched the responsive chord in his mind. Where had he seen her before? Then, when she stopped and smiled briefly at him, the cogs in his sharp brain meshed together smoothly. And he had the answer to his query.