Читать книгу Mama Law and the Moonbeam Racer - Fred Yorg - Страница 14

CHAPTER SEVEN

I glanced at my watch, it was a little after eleven and the cold drizzle had turned into scattered flurries of big wet flakes of snow. They were mesmerizing as they floated down on the windshield of the unmarked car. The inside of the car was cold. You could see your breath every time you exhaled. I was admiring the beauty of the snow when the car radio went off. The dispatcher reported that there had been a shooting on the north side. Knowing the way they operated and their reputation, I had a pretty good idea what had just gone down. Miles ever naïve, nudged me.

“You think they got our boy?”

“No.”

“Want me to call in and check?”

“You’re wasting your time, Miles. Tony and Max just put a professional hit on T-Bone.”

“What are you, a physic now? How the hell do you know?”

“Call in and check if you want. I’m taking a walk around the block; we’ve been sitting here long enough, I need to stretch my legs.”

“Which way are you going?”

“Up Wilcox and then down 31st street. Keep your eyes open.”

The shadows of the night covered my movements as I walked down Wilcox. Then I turned the corner down 31st Street. The wind was picking up and the snow had turned back to a hard rain. Only in Chicago does a light snow turn into a diving rain. It didn’t make any sense, the temperature didn’t feel any warmer to me that was for damn sure. How could it have turned to rain? I slid into the entranceway to an old abandoned building and took refuge. Leaning up against the door, I took in the solitude of the night.

My mind wandered back to my last visit home in Bayou Cane. Big Aldos, our handyman and my life long friend asked me why I was a cop. The best answer I could offer was, ‘Somebody’s got to do it.’ He looked back and said, ‘That ain’t no kind of fit bizzness for a man like you.’ I looked over at him and nodded, then we dropped the subject. He’d made his point.

Putting aside the daydreams, my attention turned back to the streets. They were quiet, too quiet for my tastes, like the calm you get in the eye of a hurricane. My eyes told me it was going to be a quiet night but my gut told me all hell was about to break loose.

The rain continued beating down hard and I waited in my cubbyhole for another fifteen minutes.

The wind was driving the rain into my body below my waist. The lower part of my body was soaked.

Finally a break in the storm, it was time to hustle back to the car. Doubling back the same way I came, trying to again use the shadow of the night as cover. Once I got to the car, I jerked open the door and slid in. “Put some heat on Miles, I’m wet and cold. You make the call?”

Miles reached down and turned on the engine before answering, “Yeah.”

“Well, you want to tell what happened?”

“It’s not our boy. Tony and Max had a shoot out at the Wingo Terrace Apartments with T-Bone.”

“And?”

“All right, you called it. T-Bone is dead. What do you want me to say? You were right. What do you want me to do kiss your ass because you were right?”

“That’s not necessary, however, a cup of coffee and a cinnamon bun will do.”

“You son of a bitch. You want me to go out in this rain. You were just out there. Why didn’t you get it?”

“I went down Wilcox the other way. Besides it’s your turn to buy. I got it the last time.”

“I’ll go later, when the rain stops.”

“The donut shop closes in fifteen minutes. If you’re going, you better make it quick.”

Miles’ only vice was coffee. I knew he’d go. He pulled up his collar, gave me one more ‘son of a bitch,’ for good measure and then made his way out into the rain.

Once Miles left the car, the rain, as if on cue, picked up its intensity. By the time Miles got back in the car, it was a well past twelve and he was soaked to the ass. “Here’s your fucking coffee and cinnamon bun. Happy now?”

“Quite happy, thank you. I notice you only got coffee?”

“They’re out of everything I like. But as usual they had a slew of your favorites.”

“Must be the clean living, Miles.”

Miles muttered something under his breath, but quickly resigned himself to his fate as I savored the cinnamon bun and coffee.

The coffee and bun took the edge off. When I was finished, I took a quick glance at Miles, even with the hot coffee in hand, he was shaking like a leaf. “Miles, I got a bad feeling about tonight. Let’s head back to the house. You’re wet, the car’s freezing. It’s just a plain miserable night.”

“No, let’s play it out. I’m okay, besides its not even 1 a.m., our boy still has plenty of time to make a move. If we go back to the house now, we’ll have to listen Max and Tony for the rest of the night. You think you can stomach that?”

“Not really. You know what pisses me off the most?”

“What?”

“This will probably cinch that promotion for Tony.”

“No way, Mooney. The chief was all over his ass before we left the house. If anything this will hurt him, they were told in no uncertain terms to be out on the street for the serial killer, not T-Bone.”

“Yeah, but in their defense, they’ll say they couldn’t ignore the chance to haul him in. You wait and see, they’ll come out of this smelling like a rose.”

“That’s another reason to stay. That promotion should be yours, everybody knows you’ve earned it.”

“Believe it or not Miles, right now I really don’t care, I’ve about had it. If this works out with Hope, I might just hang up a shingle and tell everybody to go fuck themselves. Look at us, you’re soaked to the ass. Were sitting here in a freezing car, there’s got to be something better than this.”

“There is for you. I’ve got two kids and a wife that like to eat. I’m stuck. I got ten more years and then I’m out of here. By then, I’ll be Dr. Bowman. With my experience on the force, I should be able to write my own ticket.”

“Good plan, but it’s still a long ways off, Miles. No guarantees in this job that you’ll ever make retirement.”

“I don’t need to hear this, Mooney. I’m wet, it’s freezing, my eye hurts and I’ve got a partner that’s on the rag. I know your tired, and pissed off at the world, but give me a break, your conversation is starting to depress me. It’s a little past one We’re sticking to the plan till three, like we agreed. Some of us still need our job. You want to do us both a favor? Shut up and take a nap: you’re really getting under my skin.”