James Sallis - Eye of the Cricket

The bartender/waitress/cook, obviously a woman of many talents, dropped hamburgers on the table before us and stalked back towards the bar. Never know what might be going on up there while you were away. The hamburgers came in plastic baskets lined with waxed paper. Already grease was seeping through onto the tables.

I watched steam rise from the hamburger, grease spread below, as I finishedmy coffee. LeRoy downed his hamburger in four truly impressive bites. I'd just started mine when he said "There's your man" and stood.

He walked over to meet him. Neither made any move towards a handshake, anything like that, of course. They stood talking. Delany's eyes cut towards me.

It's not something you see too often on TV or in movies: the detective standing up with grease dribbling down his chin to apprehend a suspect.

I started for them just as Delany turned to leave. LeRoy's hand shot out and clamped on his upper arm.

That was when Armantine Rauch stepped through the door.

"Boy's with me," he said.

LeRoy looked once into Rauch's eyes and let go of Delany, stepping back, amis half-raised, palms out.

Rauch's eyes turned to me. We stood in mutual regard, no expression on our faces. Absolute quiet in the bar.

"We know one another?"

He must have seen something in my eyes like what LeRoy saw in his. A solid, compact little blue-steel22 appeared.

"I sure as hell hope there ain't no goddamn heroes here."

The gun gave him confidence. Now his eyes could let go of mine. They swept the room. Shon Delany, still afraid to move. Keith LeRoy back against the wall. The girls at the bar, swiveled about to watch, skirts hiked high on their legs.

"Had about all I can stomach of heroes."

He smiled. Let the gun fall down along his leg.

"Man get a drink around here?"

"Sure you can, darlin'."

Rauch whirled about-and into the baseball bat that landed expertly just below the supraorbital ridge, at the bridge of his nose. He went back, and down, like a door slammed off its hinges, just as inert.

LeRoy lowered his hands. I picked up the. 22, which slid towards me when Rauch fell. The girls swiveled back to the bar to slurp up the dregs of their drinks through pastel straws.

"Dam sonsabitches. Think they come in here and mess with my customers. Doan never learn." She laughed to herself. "Learned him anyways."

As I said, a lady of many talents. First sign of trouble, she'd gone out the back door and around. With her Louisville slugger.

Not a game I much care for, baseball, but it has its points.

Bartender/waifress/cook/enforcer, she stepped behind the bar again and announced: "Last call, ladies and gentlemen. Might want to order doubles. Cops be here soon enough."

I knew just what she meant.

All kinds of undesirables dropping by this afternoon.

"Who's the civilian?" an officer standing by the door wanted to know. Dressed like that, shiny, salmon-colored polyester suit, short-sleeve white shirt, narrow tie short enough to show the straining button just above his belt, nothing else he could be.

Don looked at him and after a moment, shifting his gaze to the floor, shook his head.

"You hear anyone else in here interrupting me, DeSalle?"

DeSalle grunted.

"You know why that is?"

No responsethis time.

"It's localise they've all acquired your basic manners, DeSalle. Civility. Even this shitbag."

Don gestured towards Ranch.

"Sticks screwdrivers in old men, knocks off a couple of friends, who knows what else he does in his spare time. But you'll notice he doesn't interrupt me.

"As for Lew here, he's directly involved. He's also a guest of the senior officer, here by request. Don't guess you have your invitation there in your pocket, do you?"

Again no response from DeSalle.

"So. We straight on this?"

After a moment the officer nodded.

"Thing is," Don went on, talking now to Armantine Rauch, "we're willing to overlook a lot of things. Have to, all that goes on around here, limited manpower we have."

Don shook his head and leaned closer over the table. Two men in the same business, you might as well say, comparing notes.

"Bodies are different, Rauch. We don't get away with overlooking those for long. Mayor's office, citizens' groups, the paper, TV shows calling us America's murder capital and pushing for federal investigations. Everybody's got a list. And when those lists start getting too long they just naturally get louder and louder about it. Hey, you want some coffee or something? A cigarette?"

Rauch shook his head.

"You sure? Okay, just let me know if you change your mind. So what you think? You think you might be able to help me with this?"

Rauch smiled.

"Your men took my wallet."

"Sony: regulations."

"My lawyer's card is in there. Maybe he'W be able to help you."

Don nodded. "You're probably right. Probably save me a lot of time and effort. Lawyers usually do, bless them. Officer DeSalle?"

"Yessir."

"Will you please go check and be sure this man's lawyer has been notified?"

We all sat looking at one another until DeSalle returned.

"Call's been made," he said.

"Then we're just having a quiet talk while we wait, in the spirit of cooperation, am I right?" Don asked.

"I don't believe my lawyer would want me to say anything until he arrives."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure you're right."

There was a knock at the door. A uniform poked his head through to talk to DeSalle, then withdrew.

DeSalle passed it along: "Counselor Silberman-that's Mr. Rauch's lawyer, Lieutenant-is currently unavailable. Seems he's on vacation in Barbados for a couple weeks."

"Well," Don said. "That does present us with something of a problem, doesn't it, Rauch? We can petition for a court-appointed lawyer, some kid just out of law school or some bumed-out case carrying twice as many cases as anyone could possibly handle."

"Or you can hold me over till such time as my own attorney becomes available."

"Good take on the situation," Don said.

"Thank you."

"Listen, you mind waiting here a few minutes? Couple things I've gotta take care of."

DeSalle and I followed Don out of the room.

"We really tiy calling that shitbag's lawyer?" he asked.

"This time, I didn't make it up. Didn't have to. Guy's really in Barbados."

"Not much room to maneuver there, then."

"Not much."

"So now I guess we hit number two and hope he really does try harder, see if we can jump-start him."

Shon Delany was in the next room, seated behind a high, desk-sized table. They'd put a canned Coke, a cellophane-shrouded sandwich from a vending machine, a pack of Salems and a Bic lighter on the table. Delany was drinking the Coke.

Don introduced himself and asked if there was anything else he could get.

"You want another Coke, maybe? some ice? a slice of pizza?

"No?

"Look, son, I'm not supposed to-my superiors find out, I'm in for a major ass-chewing-but I feel like I have to tell you this. Your buddy in there rolled over on you. Told us about the burglaries and all the rest. Names, dates, details. What you did with the take."

"But I don't know about any of that."

"Well. Sure you don't. But…"

Don spread his hands imploringly as DeSalle stepped forward.

"I'll but him," DeSalle said.

Don smiled. "See what I mean? Day comes to an end, folks like yourself shoved in here, all this paperwork, I've just naturally got to have some kind of answers for the people upstairs."

"But I don't know anything," Delany said. "I'd help you if I could."

"I'm sure you would. So for a start why don't you tell us why you killed Daryl Anthony Payne."

"What?"

"Come on, Delany. Rauch told us all about it. How he begged you to stop, let it go, but you wouldn't. Out of control, he said. Totally OOC."