One or the Other Read Online Free PDF

and trees and sports fields, trying to look like a real university. Just past Monsieur Hot Dog, the convoy turned into Montreal West and the streets were lined with old red-brick houses, each one with a big tree on the front lawn.
    The convoy took up half the block on Percival Street.
    Ste. Marie walked to the house and knocked, and a few minutes later a woman opened the door.
    Dougherty was surprised the woman was dressed this time of night, wearing tight jeans and a loose blouse, and she stood her ground, saying, “You can’t come in.”
    Ste. Marie pushed past her and said, “Is your husband home?”
    The rest of the cops followed Ste. Marie into the house.
    Dougherty was the last one in, and he noticed Paquette was near the front, right behind Ste. Marie.
    Ste. Marie said, “We have a warrant,” and held out a piece of paper.
    â€œThat’s bullshit. My kids are asleep.”
    Ste. Marie handed out orders to search the house. Paquette and some of the senior guys got the bedrooms upstairs, a couple other guys were given the kitchen and living room on the main floor, and Dougherty and Caron were told to search the basement.
    The woman was in the kitchen then, the phone receiver in her hand and she was dialling, saying, “If you go in the kids’ rooms, we’ll sue you.”
    On the way down the stairs Dougherty said, “At least we don’t have to wait in the yard.”
    The basement had a shag carpet and knotty pine walls and there was a built-in bar in the corner. Lots of framed photos: Montreal Canadiens players, all autographed; fat men and skinny women on beaches and on big boats; black-and-white street scenes of Point St. Charles. Dougherty was thinking, Shit, the Point’s only a few minutes away down the hill, what’s he need the pictures for, and then he figured it was to remind himself about the mean streets he came from now that he had a respectable house in a respectable neighbourhood.
    Caron said, “Maybe there’s a safe behind one of these.”
    â€œYeah, and the combination is his birthday.”
    Caron was behind the bar then and he said, “
Bon, j’ai trouvé
.” He had a bottle of Canadian Club in his hand and was getting two shot glasses from the shelf behind the bar.
    Dougherty leaned on the bar and accepted the drink.
    Caron reached into his pocket, took a pack of smokes and offered one to Dougherty, saying, “Can you believe it, a buck now.”
    Dougherty lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply. “It’s tax for the Olympics, right?”
    â€œTen cents a pack,” Caron said. “I’m going to quit.”
    Dougherty said, “Sure you are.”
    Caron looked at him, serious for a second, and then shook his head. “God damned taxes.”
    â€œHey, we’ll get plenty of overtime during the Olympics.”
    â€œLike this,” Caron said, waving his smoke around. “Chasing our dicks.”
    â€œWe might get lucky.”
    Caron walked out from behind the bar and said, “Oh sure, maybe.” He looked at some of the pictures on the walls, stopped at one of the Point, a bunch of kids in bathing suits in front of a walk-up, some guy spraying them with a hose. Still looking at the picture, Caron said, “Look at the happy kids.”
    Dougherty said, “Looks like the street I grew up on.”
    â€œYou were neighbours.”
    â€œMy parents moved out when I was in high school,” Dougherty said. “Not up the hill, here, though, they bought one side of a duplex on the south shore.”
    â€œBrossard?”
    â€œGreenfield Park.”
    â€œOh
oui
,
les Anglais
.” Caron looked at more pictures, more kids in the Point, and then he turned around and looked over the rec room and said, “How much you think this house cost?”
    Dougherty said, “No idea.”
    â€œSeventy, eighty grand?”
    â€œI think my parents paid twelve.”
    â€œCross