by Henry Hack
“Of course it’s all right, and it’s about time you decided to visit your old aunt and uncle before we depart from God’s earth.”
“Come on, Auntie, you know I promised, and now I’m coming through. See you in a half hour.”
Harry pulled up to the neat, small ranch house a few minutes before nine. The sun had just broken through, but it was still very cold and most certainly the temperature would not get out of the low twenties today.
Aunt Mary opened the door as he reached for the handle and welcomed him in, taking the bakery bags from him. She put them on the kitchen table and gave Harry a big hug. “It’s good to see you, Harry. I’m so happy you came over.”
Uncle Mike walked in and also welcomed him. The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee filled the kitchen and he fondly remembered the kitchen of his home in Woodhaven when he was a boy and his father was still alive.
“How are things going for you, lad?”
“Looking up, I think. In fact, that situation I spoke to you about with Gregorovich may soon be resolved.”
“Good, you can tell me all about it after we eat.”
After breakfast Aunt Mary volunteered to clean up the dishes saying, “I know you two want to talk about the Job, so go on into the parlor. I’ll give you twenty minutes of shop talk, then I’ll be in to catch up on other things with you, Harry.”
“So tell me,” Mike said, “What’s new with your little problem?”
Harry filled Uncle Mike in with the situation thus far, and his hope tomorrow’s meeting would result in the IAD investigation against him being closed.
Uncle Mike pondered a moment and said, “That was some chance you took rousting Pete’s spies like that.”
“I did it because you said he was a good street cop, and I think we now understand each other.”
“Yes, Pete is a good man but maybe I should call him anyway.”
“I don’t think it’s necessary. As I said, when I mentioned you were my uncle he softened up.”
“H-m-m. You know, if it’s necessary, I can call his boss, too.”
“Chief Kelly? The Head Hatchet? You know him, too?”
“Sure I know Bill Kelly. He worked for me when I was the squad commander in the old Seven-Three in Brownsville. Bill was one of my best detectives.”
“Don’t tell me Kelly’s a good guy, too? I see him on the training tapes and he scares the hell out of me. He scowls out at you like one of those Seventeenth Century fire and brimstone preachers.”
“Harry, it’s all an act to impress the commissioner. Bill’s a sweetheart, but he wants to be the chief of detectives someday and he’ll be a damn good one.”
“How do you know all this? You’ve been out of the Job three years now.”
“I keep my hand in with the current goin’s on. I go to the association meetings and the retirement parties, and such. But in this case, I definitely know, because Bill himself, sitting in the same chair you’re in right now, told me so about three weeks ago.”
“You still socialize with him after all these years?”
“Bill and Maureen are old friends, and as I said, if you want me to…”
“I appreciate the offer, but let’s see how things work out tomorrow. But I promise I’ll holler real quick if I think I need your help.”
“You do that, boy,” he said as Mary entered the room with a tray containing the coffee pot and three cups.
“Do what?” she said. “I hope it’s something sensible your uncle is tellin’ you to do. Like find a nice Irish girl and get married again. It’s no good for a man to be alone, and you’re gettin’ up there. What will you be in a few weeks – thirty-five?”
“Only thirty-three, Aunt Mary.”
“There she goes,” Mike said. “Messin’ around in your life now. They just can’t help themselves.”
“Be still, you old fool. Now tell me, is there a woman in your life?”
After about an hour of catching up on family and personal matters to the almost satisfaction of Aunt Mary, Harry announced he had to leave.
“So soon, Harry?” she asked.
“Yes, it’s eleven o’clock and I promised to visit my friend Pop Hunter and his wife. You know you finally made me feel guilty, and now I’m making it up to all those wonderful people who feel I’ve been ignoring them.”
They hugged and kissed good-bye and Uncle Mike said, “Let me get my jacket and walk you out to the car. I need a breath of fresh air.” He whispered, “What I really need is a cigarette.”
When they were outside they both lit up and Mike said, “Harry, please don’t wait too long to call me. Things can move very fast at the close of a case.”
“I know. I have a pretty good sense of when things are going to start to crumble. I’ll yell if I need you.”
“Good. And when this is over, I would advise you to re-think the detectives.”
“Why? You know I don’t particularly like squad work.”
Harry, you’ve been on the street too long. It’s a dangerous place, and I don’t mean just physically. Too much time on the beat does something to a man who takes it seriously. It changes you, makes you cold, isolated, unfeeling, alone.”
“Is that what you think I am?”
“Not yet, but I see the signs. Give it some serious thought. There’s a lot of variety in the dicks – vice, white collar crime, robbery, burglary, homicide, terrorism. I can help you there, too. And if Bill Kelly gets his third star, I can put you anywhere you want to go. Think about it.”
“I will. As soon as this case is over, I promise I’ll think about it.”
“Good lad. Good luck tomorrow. Let me know what happens.”
“Sure, Uncle Mike. So long.”
When Harry turned the corner he lit up another cigarette and inhaled deeply. Uncle Mike was quite a guy. Still well connected in the hierarchy of the Department and still looking out for his nephew. And he would think about what Mike said about the detectives. Maybe he did need a change, and maybe Susan would be part of that change.
●
Vera answered the door and smiled at Harry, taking the packages from him. “Hello, stranger,” she said. “You are a sight for sore eyes. I wondered when, and if, I was ever going to see you again.”
He followed Vera inside and said, “First my Aunt Mary, now you scolding me. But I deserve it, and I apologize. It’s so good to see you again.” He put the bags on the table and they hugged. She kissed him on the cheek just as Pop walked into the room.
“What the hell is going on here in my own house?” he asked with feigned anger.
“Vera decided you’re getting too old and tired, Pop. She wants to run off with me now that I’m single again.”
“Does that mean I can watch football and not bathe regularly anymore? And that you, Hoppy, will absorb all of Vera’s outstanding credit card debts, car loan and future debt? Tell me that’s so, and I’ll give you two ten grand to run away.”
“On second thought,” Harry said, “You two make such a wonderful couple, I couldn’t bear to be a part of breaking you up. How about a beer, Pop?”
“Now you’re talking. Let’s go inside and relax before the game. Vera is bursting with questions about your private life, I just know.”
“Now, Charles, I haven’t seen Harry in a long time and I just want to catch up a little. So drink your beer and hush up while Harry and I chat.”
Vera was right. It had been a long time, maybe eight or nine months. When Harry and Pop left the Academy they went to different precincts, but they continued to socialize even after his marriage to Peggy. Both Lizzy and Patty adored Pop and Vera and bragged to their friends about the fact they had a brown Aunt and Uncle. Pop and Vera were childless and loved and fussed over the girls as if they were their own. When Harry and Peggy split up, the happy little group disintegrated. Divorce has a way of doing things like that, affecting a lot of other lives besides the two main combatants. Divorce settlements do not specify who gets the friends, and when Peggy t
ook the girls to Pennsylvania, the Hunter’s felt the loss as deeply as Harry.
Harry had gradually drifted from Pop and Vera. He felt his presence alone in their home distressed them without Peggy and the kids, so he stayed away and dropped in only once or twice in the fifteen months since the divorce, despite repeated invitations from both of them. When Harry began working with Pop on the Winston case over the past few days, he realized how much he missed him, his warm friendship, and his helpful advice and also how much he missed Vera. He had vowed to himself to make it up, and here he was once again with them, and he felt good about it.
“Tell me, is there a woman in your life?” Vera asked.
Pop whistled softly and said, “Here it comes, Hoppy. I told you so. You better ‘fess right up. I learned my interrogation techniques from her.”
“Be quiet old man, and let Harry speak.”
Harry filled her in on the recent happenings in his life over the past year and ended with the comment that, yes, there may be a woman becoming an important part of his life. Pop raised his eyebrows and said, “Oh, really?”
“Now who’s nosy, Charles Hunter? Can you give us some more details about this soon to be important woman?”
“No, not now. I have to get through this internal investigation surrounding the case Pop is working on. Once that’s over, and I’m hoping it will be soon, then I can relax and see where she and I are going. If it heats up, I’ll bring her over for your inspection and approval.”
“Good. Now I’ll leave you two alone. Charles said he wanted some cop talk with you before kick-off time.”
“We won’t be long, Vera,” Pop said. “Could you bring another beer for us?”
“Coming right up.”
Vera brought the beers and they each took a swallow. Harry, trying not to sound apprehensive, said, “How did it go at the hospital the other night?”
Pop related Richie’s condition, explaining the procedure they used to get the answers. Harry was relieved Winston identified the suspect from the composite, plus the fact he indicated the two other perps. Pop said, “I think you should watch yourself very carefully when dealing with Sergeant Goldman.”
“Why is that?”
“When we were done, she moved right in and asked Winston if you had choked him earlier in the evening.”
“What did Richie say? I’m almost afraid to ask. You know that rat and I are not the best of friends.”
“He shook his head no which surprised, and I think disappointed, the sergeant. After all, we have five pretty good statements, albeit from five cruds, but I think she had been convinced you did choke Richie out, and his failure to confirm that did not seem to sit well with her.”
“I can tell you why. During one of my interviews with her, she kept hammering at me about choking Richie, and I got pissed off after denying it time and again, so I said to her, ‘You think I choked him? Why don’t you go ask him?’ never thinking Richie would wake up. I guess she remembered that. You know, I did choke the shit out of Richie, and I’m wondering why he didn’t tell Goldman. He could have sunk me. Maybe I was wrong about him, and he turned into a stand-up guy.”
Pop raised his eyebrows in surprise at Harry’s sudden admission he had indeed choked Winston and said, “Now that’s stretching it a bit. But maybe there is an explanation why he didn’t cough you up.”
“What could that be?”
“Richie did manage to say a few words before he went back into the coma. He said to tell you thanks for saving him.”
“What? Saving him? What the hell does that mean? I didn’t save him.”
“It’s a mystery to us, too. Any ideas what he might have been trying to say?”
“Pop, the only thing I can think of was he thought I was one of the two cops from the radio car that brought him to the hospital. Maybe he was getting delirious.”
“That’s exactly what I thought, and what I told Sergeant Goldman. She didn’t seem to buy it. In fact, she’s having the Electronics Unit install a voice-activated recorder in case Richie breaks out of the coma again.”
“What’s the prognosis on him?”
“That’s anybody’s guess according to the resident doctor. He could wake up again, go in and out of the coma, or die as his body deteriorates. Only God knows.”
“I guess you and Goldman and Gregorovich are going to have an interesting meeting tomorrow as my fate is decided.”
“I’ll let you know what happens as soon as I can. Will you be home?”
“Yes, I’m not moving from the phone. I want this thing to end. Stand up for me.”
“I will, and of course I understand you never choked Richie at all.”
“Thanks, Pop. That was all they had anyway, and now they don’t even have that.”
“If they call you in again remember, watch out for Goldman. She seems like the type to go for the throat and damn the consequences. I’ll give you this though; Sergeant Goldman is one fine looking woman.”
“That she is. What was Nick’s reaction when he met her?”
Pop laughed and said, “Old Nick was drooling all over the floor of the lobby when she walked in on her high heels, and when she took off her coat, her lovely little black dress showed quite a body underneath.”
“I suppose Nick tried to put a move on her,” Harry said. “That greaser thinks he is God’s gift to all the women of the world.”
“I’m sure he would have liked to, but the fact she’s an IAD sergeant cooled him off.”
“He better stay cooled off.”
“Whoa, whoa, Hopalong…tell me I’m wrong. I have a very bad feeling in my stomach.”
“What are you stammering about?”
“Tell me she’s not the one, the one who might become important in your life?”
“She’s the one.”
“Oh, my goodness. Are you sure about this?”
“I think I love her, Pop. She didn’t come to the hospital from a party. She came from my apartment after we had dinner out.”
All Pop could do was shake his head in disbelief, and then he finally said, “Hoppy, have you considered Sergeant Goldman might be playing house with you just so she can nail you on the Winston case?”
“Susan wouldn’t do that. This will all be resolved tomorrow. I’m sure of it.”
“I hope you are right.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”
Vera returned before half-time with sandwiches and more beer and they all watched a great game that ended in a 33-31 victory for Notre Dame over Tennessee by a last second field goal of over fifty yards. Harry looked at his watch. It was almost five. He got up and said, “I’ve lain around your den too long. It’s time to hit the road, folks.”
“Won’t you stay for some dinner?” Vera asked.
“I’d love to, but I want to prepare my notes and my thoughts just in case I get summoned over to IAD tomorrow. I need a good night’s sleep and a clear head in the morning.”
“You take care,” she said. “And don’t you forget to call me so you can bring that special person over to meet us.”
“Yeah,” Pop said grinning at Harry. “I’m sure she’s special indeed. I can’t wait to meet her.”
Harry smiled, but his smile changed into a frown by the time he reached his car. He arrived back at his apartment and plopped on the sofa. Pop had put a question mark over Susan’s head and Harry could not erase it. He got up and brought back a beer from the refrigerator. He took a swallow and pondered his fate and his future with the beautiful, but perhaps dangerous, Sergeant Susan Goldman. After two more beers he decided to go to bed. It was only 8:30, but he felt he needed to be well-rested for whatever was to happen the next day – assuming he couldsleep.
●
Tuesday morning broke sharply colder with brilliant sunlight in a clear-blue, cloudless sky. Susan put her sunglasses on to counter the glaring whiteness reflected off the piles of plowed snow as she drove to Mineola. Soon the return of the work day traffic would turn t
he white drifts into sooty mounds of filth, but now the scene was pristine and beautiful and hid the ugliness of the streets. She rehearsed her presentation to the inspector. She felt it would be a positive career step if she delivered her summation and conclusions to Gregorovich in a cool, professional manner. She hoped she would be able to clear Harry, but Richie’s mysterious words kept her personal doubts alive concerning his involvement on Christmas Eve ten days ago.
Susan pulled into a spot behind headquarters, parked and headed for the cafeteria. She ordered a coffee and a buttered roll and went to a phone. She wanted to bounce this whole Richie interview off Rita before she met with Gregorovich. Miss Livermore put her into Rita’s office. “Rita, it’s Susan. I’m picking up coffee and a roll downstairs. Can I bring you anything?”
“I ate already, but another coffee would be fine. How’s it going?”
“New developments occurred over the long weekend on the Cassidy case, and I need to discuss them with you to get your take on them before I meet with the boss.”
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
Susan put the coffees and roll on Rita’s desk and said, “Let me see if I have any messages, then I have to set up a meeting with the inspector.”
“You look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning, Sergeant Goldman. Get laid over the holidays?”
Susan blushed and said, “Rita, you are truly incorrigible.”
“Yeah, but I’m right, right? Be prepared to tell me all the sordid details. I want to know exactly how Officer Cassidy charmed your knickers off.”
“Stop it. I’ll be right back.”
There were no messages of any importance for Susan and none relating to the Cassidy investigation. She walked to the inspector’s office and asked Ms. Margolin how his schedule looked today.
“He’s pretty much wide open,” she said, checking the inspector’s date minder.
“Would you tell him I need to schedule a briefing on the Cassidy case with him based on new developments that occurred this weekend? I’ll need about an hour.”
“I’ll check with him and call you with the time.”