Ken Bruen - Merrick

flier miles.

Bad mouth though, no amount of bucks could hide the mean downturn. He said, in a

cultured tone, a guy who never had to raise his voice, it got done, why you had the mega

bucks

‘Ah, the gentlemen from the NYPD, may I see some credentials?’

He was good, had the shit down.

Merrick gave him his winning smile, said, warmly

‘We’re no longer with The Department, we’re private.’

Bob looked like someone had given him an enema, snapped

‘Then you’re here under false pretensions, perhaps I should give a call to The Police

Commissioner, former patient of mine, reason he has that winning smile.’

Merrick was all balm, said

‘No Need Doctor, I mean, we’re investigating a child murder, how would it look if The

Daily News had a story that the top dentist in Manhattan lawyered up over this?’

Bob smiled, a predatory one, mind fucking, this guy invented the game, said

‘Ah, the feeble threats. I’m disappointed but to get you out of here, what did you want to

know?’

Merrick slapped two photo’s of the dead kids on the pristine mahogany desk, asked

‘Ever see those children before.’

Bob smiled, a mirthless thing that made your blood blow colder, he said

‘Really, Morton, if I were the…..how do you term it in police parlance?….the

perpetrator, would I say………….Yes, I know them or deny any knowledge?’

Merrick was losing it, I could see it in the rise of his shoulders, he said, gritted teeth

‘It’s Merrick, so you haven’t seen them?’

‘No.’

Merrick grabbed the pictures, said

‘Thank you for your time, sorry to bother you.’

Bob was looking at me, a light in his eyes, asked

‘Your partner, he’s a mute, he isn’t allowed to speak?’

I moved forward, pushing Merrick’s restraining arm aside, said

‘You can glance at two murdered kids and adopt t a fookin sardonic tone? ‘

His smile widened, he said

‘Irish and with the usual foul tongue, you’re a long way from home Paddy.’

I put my index finger on the lapel of his gorgeous suit, said

‘You know what that means?’

The smile never wavered, he said

‘That a Mick could never hope to aspire to it?’

I gave him one of my own smiles, said

‘’Touchable.’

Outside, Merrick was fit to be tied, he was so angry, I said

‘It went well, you think?’

He exploded

‘You dumb fucking..Paddy, what do you think you’re playing at, didn’t I tell you, TELL

you to keep your dumbass trap the hell shut? But no, Mr. Fucking Wise guy has to go

running his mouth, blowing the whole deal to shit and shingle,

I asked

‘What did you call me?’

He paused’

‘Jesus H, you deaf as well as pig Irish stubborn, I called you a dumb fucking Paddy.’

I said, real quiet

‘Thought so.’

And swinging with my right, I knocked him clean off his feet, said

‘You’re fooking lucky I don’t have me hurly.’

Turned on me heel, hailed a passing Gypsy cab, got the fook outa there.

The driver, looking in his mirror, seeing Merrick on his ass on the pavement, asked

‘What happened to that guy?’

I said

‘He had some teeth

trouble.’

‘STONE FOX.’

On W31 st, between Broadway and 6 thAvenue is O’Reilly’s, a pub restaurant, was where

I’d taken Shona. It was her birthday so I took her to an Irish place.

I hadn’t yet found a

Comanche joint but if I did.

She looked terrific, wearing a fringed Suede Jacket, faded blue jeans, tight white-T.

Seeing her, I said

‘Jesus.’

She smiled, asked

‘That’s good, right?’

Usually, I have cop habits, check the exits, see who’s lurking in the corners, you get the

drift.

I was so smitten, I never did and so, didn’t see the large built man, in the corner, sucking

on a Corona.

The waitress was from Puerto Rico, it being an Irish pub. A very friendly girl, asked us if

we’d like a drink before dinner, I said

‘’It’s my girl’s birthday, what do you think?’

Shona mock reprimanded

‘Why’d you tell them?’

The girl disappeared and re-appeared with a bottle of Champagne, said

‘Del Corazon.’

It was getting more Irish by the minute.

Once the stuff was opened, we clinked glasses and I said

‘La brea agus bheannacht leat.’

Her eyes were dancing in her head, she asked

‘Translate please.’

‘May you have a beautiful and blessed day.’

Thank you’

We ordered beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, vegetables. Shona put her glass down, asked

‘Promise you won’t be angry with me?’

‘What did you do?’

I thought it was some kidding around.

She wasn’t.

Said

‘Merrick phoned me.’

Fook on a bike.

The champagne seemed to be gone flat, I said

‘How would he get your number?’

She smiled, said

‘He’s a cop.’

‘Was.’

I tried to keep my face in neutral, asked

‘What’d he want?’

‘To apologize, said you wouldn’t answer his calls.’

True.

She looked pleadingly at me, asked

‘Will you talk to him?’

I was fooked if I’d let the evening slide down the shitter, said

‘Sure.’

She was relieved, said

‘He’s outside.’

Ah Jesus. I snapped

‘”What, now?’

She nodded.

I stood up, said

‘Won’t be long.’

And there he was, dressed for the cold in a lumber jacket, heavy scarf and his eyes

displaying a shiner. I pulled out my cigs, lit up, asked

‘Yeah?’

‘I’m sorry buddy, I was out of line.I shoot my mouth off some times, I’m truly sorry.’

Held out his hand, asked

‘Shake?’

I tossed the cig, took his hand, said

‘Ok.’

He searched my face, asked

‘We good?’

‘Yeah.’

He let out a deep breath, said

‘I can’t promise I won’t run my mouth again but I swear, I won’t make any….remarks

on your country.’

I’m not in the punishment business unless you’ve been married to me, said

‘Tis done, we’re moving on.’

He reached in his jacket, pulled out a small package, said

‘For your girl’s birthday.’

I was surprised, said

‘Thanks.’

Then asked

‘You want to come in, grab a brew, a steak?’

He nearly laughed, said

‘On her birthday, then she might deck me.’

I nodded and he asked

‘In the morning, you good to go for the other suspect?’

I said

‘Yeah and I’ll try to keep me mouth shut.’

And he was gone.

I went back inside to arrive as our food was set on the table, gave Shona her gift. She said

‘What a sweet thing to do.’

It was a token for fifty bucks to Borders. I pulled out my own, handed it over, said

‘Shite, it’s the same thing.’

Had her going for a moment, she opened it, the Claddagh Heart Pendant catching the

light.

The food was great and yet again, just to watch her relish her meal was a joy. I asked

‘Tell me about The Comanche?’

I was expecting an argument but, no, she launched

‘When the Comanche soldiers came back from Vietnam, no one spat at them or called

them names. They were seen as returning warriors, celebrated with feasts and dances,

which could be why they had little or no, Post traumatic syndrome.’

Christ, I never even knew they served in Vietnam.

Sensing the down turn in the mood of the conversation, she added

‘Plus, Comanche’s followed The Grateful Dead for years.’

I laughed, the image was so damn appealing. I said