me the munchies so I called out for some
pizza.
The guy arrived in like jig time and I spotted him a
five, he looked at me, said, “Cop, right?” I was
delighted, asked, “How’d you know?” He gave
that New Yorker look, said, “Cop lives in the
building, everyone hides their stash.” Then he
wrinkled his nose, smelling the weed, said,
“Evidence, huh?” I put my fingers to my lips, made
the shssssh noise. He was cool, down with it, said,
“You ever need some decent blow, you gimme a
call, my name is Jimmy.”
I asked,
“Jimmy, how come you think I won’t bust your
arse?”
“Ass, you’re in America now, and you’re Irish, the
Irish don’t give a fuck, see yah.”
And he was gone, whistling what might well have
been “Galway Bay” but that was probably the
weed.
The pizza was good and I felt wired, good to go,
good to … boogie.
I didn’t have a whole lot of clothes so wore a
white T … whitish, and black 501s, a pair of
knock-off Nikes and me one sports jacket.
Whatever else it said, it sure as shite said, he’s not
on the take.
A line that would come back to haunt me.
In my mind, I saw the green rosary … gleaming.
KEBAR WAS IN THE LOCKER ROOM,
FEELING PLEASED THE kid had agreed to have
a brew. He asked himself why it was so important.
He’d never wanted buddy stuff before. But then,
nobody had ever saved his life either.
If the kid hadn’t stepped up to the plate, Kebar
would be pushing up dirt, and he shuddered:
What would Lucia do if he was gone?
Back to the state garbage bins.
Yeah, he owed and not just for himself, Lucia too,
so the least he could do was buy the kid some cold
ones, maybe let him in on stuff that would take
years to learn.
Clean the slate.
He’d never owed before and it was confusing him.
Plus, fuckit, he liked the kid, who’d have ever seen
that coming?
Kebar hadn’t liked anyone in … jeez … when …
ever?
The other cops, they gave Kebar a wide berth, you
bid him the time of day, he growled right back at
you.
But the older guys, they didn’t much like him, what
was there to like, he was a surly mean bastard, but
they sure as shit respected him, he was your real
beat cop, a stand-up guy, and he believed in the old
ways.
A sergeant, a Polack named Swierzcynski,
approached Kebar, asked,
“Got a moment, K?”
Kebar, who should have been a sergeant long ago
‘cept for his attitude, snapped,
“Make it quick.”
The sergeant sighed, hard to help this schmuck but
he tried, said, “You need to watch your back.”
Kebar stopped, turned, asked, “What’s that mean?”
The sergeant checked they couldn’t be heard, said,
“IA is sniffing around you.” Kebar shrugged it off,
said, “Fuck ‘em, they got nothing on me.”
The sergeant, knowing he was going way out there,
said,
“You got a sister?”
Kebar was stunned, he’d kept her real hidden,
asked, “How do you know?”
The sergeant gave a rueful smile, said,
“I hear stuff and the word is, she’s in a real fancy
home …”
Pause. “A very expensive one.” Kebar was
thinking, “Fuck fuck fuck.” But he said nothing and
the sergeant added, “Word is they’re using the kid
to bring you down.” Kebar couldn’t help it,
splurted, “That kid saved my ass.” The sergeant
shook his head, said, “That’s why he’s perfect to
take you down, you trust him.” Kebar gave a
grudging thanks and the sergeant said, “Not too
many good ones left.” Kebar got out of there quick,
thinking, “Damn kid, he wouldn’t turn, would he?”
He had to hustle to get to see Lucia before he met
with the kid. The drive out to Long Island was the
usual fucking nightmare, and he got there running
way late so he’d have to cut his time with his sister
short. Thus preoccupied, he never clocked the tail
on his ass. And if he had, he’d have been sure it
was Internal Affairs. He’d have been wrong.
As he went in, the Chevy pulled in a few