by Hack, Henry
“What a handsome couple,” said Mario. “Welcome to my humble restaurant. Harry, where did you find this exquisite lady?”
Harry smiled and said, “Mario Coletti, meet Susan Goldman. I found her right in my own backyard, on the NYMPD.”
“I am very pleased to meet you, Susan. In all my years I have never seen a police officer that looked as beautiful as you.”
“Thank you, Mario. It is a pleasure to meet you. It smells delicious in here.”
“Harry has told me of your appreciation of fine Italian food. I’m sure you will not be disappointed. Bon appétit.”
Mario motioned for a waiter who escorted them to their table. He lit the candles as the busboy filled the water tumblers with Pellegrino. He introduced himself as Georgio and asked if they would like something from the bar. Harry ordered a dry rob roy, straight up, and Susan ordered a straight up extra-dry vodka martini. The drinks arrived and Georgio handed them the menu and recited the evening’s specials. When he left, Harry raised his glass to Susan and she touched hers to his. “Happy New Year, Susan. Here’s to better and happier times in the year ahead.”
“Happy New Year, Harry. May we both have a healthy, peaceful one.”
“Susan, I want this dinner to be perfect, but I have to get a few minutes of police business out of the way, and then I won’t mention anything again.”
“You want to know how the Serenenski interview went, don’t you?”
“Yes. Was he what I thought he was?”
“He was the letter writer. He went for it and admitted he was out to get you in trouble.”
“I told you he lied all the way. Does that wrap it up? Am I off the hook?”
“I’m pretty sure we’re done, but as far as you being off the hook, that’s up to Gregorovich.”
“When will I know?”
“I’m going to schedule a meeting with him as soon as I can when we get back in the office on Tuesday. We should come to some conclusions then to finalize this.”
“I’ll be on a day off. Will you call me at home and let me know the outcome?”
“Sure. I understand the strain and apprehension you’ve been under. I won’t let you dangle in suspense any longer than necessary.”
“Thanks. That’s all I’m saying on the subject tonight. Let’s eat.”
“Any recommendations?”
“If you don’t mind we could order some things we both like, and share them?”
“That’s fine with me.”
“How about a small hot antipasto, then two different pasta appetizers? I love the gnocchi Bolognese and the lobster ravioli.”
“I agree. Should we get soup or salad?”
“The minestrone is wonderful and the Caesar is outstanding.”
“Will you share a small Caesar salad with me?”
“I can handle that.”
“How about the entrees?”
“The veal Marsala with Mario’s special mushroom sauce is delicious. But my personal favorite is veal cutlet Parmigiano with a side of linguini, all smothered in Mario’s red sauce.”
“They both sound great. Want to share them, too?”
“Sure. And how about a bottle of Amarone to wash it all down?”
“Wonderful,” she said.
They placed their order with Georgio who nodded in assent at their choices. They sipped their cocktails and nibbled on fresh chunks of Italian bread soaked in virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar.
“By the way,” Susan said, “this is not lunch in your favorite inexpensive diner. I’m sharing the tab with you.”
“No way. As I told you before – my beat, my treat.”
As they finished their drinks, Georgio arrived with the wine and the appetizers.
“Oh, my God,” Susan said after sampling the gnocchi. “This Bolognese sauce is delicious.”
“Wait till you taste the lobster ravioli.”
They had to control themselves to eat slowly and not wolf the pasta down. It was almost eight, and they were both very hungry. Susan said, “This is great. I’m enjoying myself. I haven’t had such a good time since Steve…” She stopped speaking, and a wistful look came into her eyes.
“Your husband?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me about him.”
“No, not now. Too many memories are still fresh in my mind, as I’m sure there are with you and Peggy.”
“How do you know about Peggy?”
“It’s all in your file.”
“Hey, that’s unfair. You know all of my life’s details and I know zilch about you.”
“Not now, Harry. I’ll give you the sordid details of my life some other time.”
“Then there will be another time?”
She smiled coyly at him and said, “Here comes our salad. Mangia.”
The Caesar salad was indeed the best she had ever tasted, and the dinners that followed were as good as any her mother had prepared. She told Harry he had chosen well. Mario’s was a hidden gem, with food and service comparable to any fancy Manhattan restaurant.
“I’m glad you approve. Do you have room for dessert?”
“Are you serious? I feel my dress tightening around my waist. I’m sure I won’t eat a morsel tomorrow.”
“The crème brulee is light and creamy. I need a little sweet after red sauce, don’t you? How about we share one, and get two espressos? It’ll keep you alert for your drive out to the party.”
She smiled and said, “Why not? New Year’s Eve comes but once a year.”
It was almost ten by the time they finished dessert and espresso. Harry slipped his Visa card into the case after glancing at the bill and Georgio took it up to Mario.
“Please let me share,” Susan said once more.
“No, I have it covered.”
Georgio returned with the credit card slip. Where the amount charged should have read $193.17, it was crossed out and $0.00 was written in. Mario had also written “Happy New Year, Susan and Harry.” Harry smiled and wrote in $50.00 for the tip and signed the receipt.
“Let’s go, Sue. You can still make your party.”
They got their coats and said good-bye to Mario, praising the dinner profusely. Mario smiled and said, “Thank you both very much. It was my pleasure to serve you, and I hope to see you both again very soon. Happy New Year to you. May it be filled with peace and joy.”
●
They stepped outside. It was snowing lightly and a half inch had already coated the cars and sidewalks. “Oh, Harry, it looks so beautiful.”
“Yes, it hides the dirt and filth and makes everything look clean and bright.”
He walked her to her car and helped brush the snow off the windows. A sudden gust of wind swirled snow around them. He said, “Are you sure you want to drive way out on the Island in this? It’s supposed to get worse as the night goes on. They’re calling for up to a foot before it’s over sometime tomorrow. You could get stuck out there.”
“You’re right. I’m terribly afraid of driving in snow, and that party is not important anyway. I’m going to head home.”
“Good decision,” he said. “I would have worried about you all night.”
“Would you? Would you have worried about me?”
“Yes,” he said, taking her in his arms, “very much.” He kissed her gently on the cheek and then on the lips. When she did not pull away, he kissed her harder, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close to her and kissed him back forcefully. They finally broke off and both of them gasped for breath. They kept their arms around each other, stared into each other’s eyes and kissed once again.
“Susan, come home with me. I’ll stop for some champagne. Let’s watch the ball drop in Times Square. I don’t want to be alone at midnight. I want to be with you.”
“Harry, I…I…don’t know. The snow…”
“Your place is closer to mine than it is to here. It won’t be a problem. We’ll watch the New Year come in, have a glass of champagne, and you
’ll be home before one. What do you say?”
She smiled and said, “Lead the way, Officer Cassidy.”
●
Harry pulled into a parking place in front of the White Horse Tavern, a semi-decent bar on his post. Susan pulled in behind him. A few moments later he came out with a brown paper bag in his hand. He raised it up to show Susan and smiled. She shook her head in wonder. It was illegal for a bar, which could only be licensed for on-premises consumption of alcohol, to sell or dispense any alcoholic beverages for off-premise consumption. And here was Harry, violating the law on his own post. But then she knew what he would say, “Susan for Pete’s sake, this is the street,” or some such reminder she was naïve in the ways of the real world.
They arrived at his building in New Hyde Park at a little after eleven, and spent ten minutes finding two parking spots close to each other. “Make yourself at home, Sue,” he said as they entered the warmth of his apartment. “I’m going to put this champagne in the freezer, then run to the bathroom.”
“Don’t be too long in there. I have to make a visit myself.”
Harry came out of the bathroom and pointed the way for her. He took off his suit jacket, loosened his tie and put on the TV. When she returned, she sat next to him on the couch and kicked off her shoes. She said, “Look at Dick Clark. He must be 85 years old by now, maybe 90, and he’s still going strong. If he’s still around when my wrinkles get deep, I’m giving him a call to see how he does it.”
“What wrinkles? You look like a teenager for crying out loud. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”
“No way. I’m still digesting that huge dinner. I’ll wait for that cold champagne at midnight. The red sauce is making me thirsty.”
“It does that to me, too. I wake up at three, dreaming I’m on a desert, dying of thirst. Then I have to get up and gulp down some ice water.”
Susan tucked her legs up under her and slid closer to Harry. He put his arm around her shoulders, and they watched as the cameras panned over the crowd of merrymakers. The snow swirled around them and the storm had been successful in keeping the size of the turnout down this year. Dick Clark noted about an inch was already on the ground in Manhattan, and the current temperature was 22̊ and dropping. It was ten minutes to the New Year and Harry said, “I better find some glasses and get that champagne ready.”
Susan leaned over and kissed him playfully on the lips not letting him get up. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the couch. “Come with me then,” he said as he carried her into the kitchen.
He got two champagne glasses from the kitchen cabinet and pulled the now cold bottle from the freezer. Susan noticed it was a 1997 Dom Perignon and said, “Expensive stuff for a poor divorced beat cop.”
He almost said the “price was right,” but bit his lip and said instead, “Nothing but the best for you, my dear. New Year’s Eve comes but once a year.” He skillfully popped the cork without spilling a drop and carefully filled both glasses.
“Bring the bottle in please,” he said taking the two filled glasses into the living room. They sat on the couch, glass in hand as the final countdown began, 10…9… the ball dropped lower…2…1…Happy New Year! Times Square lit up with 10,000 lights and fireworks and the crowd went wild and the brand New Year arrived. They clinked glasses and wished each other a Happy New Year, draining the ice cold Dom in two swallows. Harry stood up and took Susan’s hand. She stood up and they embraced and kissed. They kissed hungrily, passionately, their hands roaming over each other’s backs, bodies pressed close together. Harry became immediately aroused and tried to pull back. Susan ground her hips into him and clutched tighter. She finally released him, smiled and said, “Officer Cassidy. It appears you’re ready.”
“Ready for what, Sergeant Goldman?”
“Ready to start the New Year off with a bang.”
They rushed into the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind on the floor. Susan unsnapped her bra and her firm breasts jiggled slightly as she wriggled out of her black bikini panties. Harry thought he would burst through his briefs as he watched her beautiful body unfold. He grabbed her and laid her on the bed and gently took off her thigh high black stockings, one at a time. She pulled him down on top of her and he entered her immediately. It was over in three minutes, but a moaning, thrashing three minutes it was.
“My goodness, Harry,” she said. “I didn’t think you were a ‘slam-bam, thank you ma’am’ type.”
“Susan, I’m sorry. It’s been a long time since I was with a woman who stirred the juices like you and…wait a minute, it sounded like you arrived rather quickly yourself.”
Susan blushed and said, “Let’s have some more champagne and relax. Maybe the second time will last a lot longer.”
“I like that idea. Be right back.”
Harry returned to the bedroom with the bottle of Dom, and they consumed the rest of it in short order. Susan kissed Harry and worked her way down his body, where she took him in her mouth. Thirty seconds later she looked up at him and said, “I think we’re ready for round two.”
They made love leisurely, with Susan on top this time, controlling the movement and pace. Harry had just the right amount of alcohol in his system to last a long time, and after what seemed like an hour had passed, they climaxed again together and fell exhausted into each other’s arms.
“Wow,” he said, “that was wonderful.”
“Wow, yourself. “Are you ready for round three?”
“Sure, Susan, maybe by Tuesday. No, make that Wednesday.”
Susan glanced at the clock on the nightstand. The red digits read 1:27. She got up and looked out the bedroom window. Harry joined her at her side. Weariness had suddenly set in on both of them.
“Stay the night, Sue. You don’t want to go out in this storm. We’ll dig out in the morning.”
“I’d love to. Let’s get under those covers and snuggle. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow,” she sang.
The phone rang. They looked at each other, wondering who could be calling at this late hour, both knowing whoever it was would be the bearer of bad news. The ringing was coming from the living room and Harry said, “It’s not my house phone. Your cell phone, maybe? Or mine?”
They walked into the living room, shivering in their nakedness. The ringing stopped. Susan retrieved her cell phone from her handbag and Harry got his from his top coat pocket. They flipped them open. No message appeared on Harry’s cell, but the screen on Susan’s read, “Call Detective Hunter at 773-4207. Urgent.” Wondering what this possibly could be about, Susan said, “Let’s see what Hunter wants on a stormy New Year’s Eve.”
She dialed the number and Pop picked up on the first ring. “Hunter, here.”
Susan listened intently as Hunter spoke and then said, “I’ll be there in 25 minutes. What’s your ETA?”
“About the same time. We’ll meet in the lobby, okay?”
“Yes, Detective. We’ll go up together.”
She looked at Harry’s questioning eyes and said, “I have to leave. Richie Winston just woke up.”
“Holy shit,” said Harry.
They got dressed and Harry grabbed a broom as they headed out the door. The storm kicked up harder now and the snow started to drift. Susan’s high heels did not make a sound on the pavement. At least three inches, maybe four were on the ground. He envisioned her standing naked in those high heels with only her black stockings on, and a tingle went through his groin. What the hell would happen now? What would Richie say?
He brushed off her car and she got in and started it up. She rolled down the window and Harry put his face up to hers and kissed her good-bye. “Drive carefully, and call me when you can,” he said.
“I will. It was a wonderful evening, while it lasted.”
He smiled and waved as she pulled away from the curb. He knew he would not sleep tonight.
Chapter Twelve
When Susan arrived at Nassau County Medical Center, Nick Faliani and Po
p Hunter were already in the lobby. She brushed the snow from her hair and coat. Her feet felt frozen solid and her new $150 high-heels were ruined.
“Some weather out there, Sergeant,” said Nick, eying her.
“Yes, and I’m certainly not dressed for it. I was at a party when I got the call.”
“So was I,” said Nick, “but Pop was already in the sack.”
“My wife and I watched the ball drop and went to bed. Only amateurs go out on New Year’s Eve – young amateurs,” Pop said.
“Detectives Hunter and Faliani,” Susan said. “This is your case. You two ask the questions and I’ll break in when I think I should. Did you bring the composite photo of the suspect?”
“Sure did,” Nick said, patting his inside coat pocket. “It’s always with me.”
“Then let’s go up there.”
They were met outside room 718 in the critical care unit by the resident on duty, Doctor James Zacklin. He explained Winston had triggered some of the monitors about an hour ago. They checked him out and the coma seemed to have broken, but they felt he could slip back in at any time. “He’s very weak,” Zacklin said. “The wounds and trauma he suffered a week ago were severe, and they have stressed his bodily systems to the max. I expected he would never recover and he probably still won’t. Please be brief and try not to upset him if you can.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Pop said. “Only a couple of key questions need to be answered right now.”
They went into the room and the doctor turned up the lights. Richie’s eyes were open, but not moving. He was hooked up to several monitoring devices and had an oxygen tube inserted in his nose. They moved in closer and Pop said, “I’m Detective Hunter and I’m with Detective Faliani and Sergeant Goldman. We’re investigating what happened to you.” Hunter held his gold detective shield about a foot from Richie’s face and continued. “If it is too difficult to speak, just nod your head up and down for yes and side to side for no. Do you understand that, Mr. Winston?”
Richie nodded up and down. Susan, who had turned on her tape recorder, whispered into it, “Winston nodded his head in the affirmative.”