were supposed to be in court this afternoon.’
He shrugged. ‘No big deal. It’s just this stupid bicycle messenger who claims he got whiplash when a UPS truck hit him. Weasel-faced bastard. He sees deep pockets, and suddenly he broke his fucking neck.’
‘So you’re blowing off court? Jesus, Jack, you’re going to get yourself disbarred.’
‘They’re not going to disbar me. They can’t. I’m on grief leave. My father was murdered, for chrissake . . . man, that is just too bizarre, isn’t it? I mean, the guy was almost eighty-five and I kind of expected him to keel over one of these days, but Jesus. Shot in the head? Who could see that coming? So what do you think, Marty? Got any ideas, any clues? Anything we can work with here?’
‘Just let the cops handle it, Jack.’
‘Well, hell, Marty, you are a cop.’
‘Ex-cop.’
‘Don’t give me that. Once a cop, always a cop. It’s in the blood, or something. I’ll bet that little gumshoe brain of yours is going about a hundred miles an hour trying to figure this out. So who do you think did it?’
‘I haven’t really thought about it.’
‘That is such bullshit.’
‘No, it’s not, Jack. I haven’t thought about it.’
Jack tried focusing on him for a long moment. ‘What the hell’s the matter with you? He was your father-in-law, for chrissake. Aren’t you at least curious?’
Marty took three seconds to examine whatever feelings he had left, and decided no, he wasn’t curious at all. ‘It’s not my job, Jack.’
‘Right you are, Marty. It’s not your job. It’s just your goddamned family, is all.’ He turned away, disgusted. ‘Christ. You’re even more fucked-up than I am.’
‘You want to ease up on the language a little, Jack? There are nice people here.’
Jack snorted. ‘You want to ease up on the holier-than-thou shit a little, Marty? There are smart people here, and they can see right through it . . . hey, you!’ He waved his beer can at a woman examining flowers at one of the outdoor tables. ‘Yeah, you in the tent dress! You want to stop fondling those pansies? And then come on over here, meet the biggest fuckstick on the planet.’
The woman gaped at him for a minute, then turned and hurried toward her car.
‘Okay, Jack, that’s it. You’ve got to get out of here.’
‘Fuck you, Marty.’
‘Goddamnit, Jack, Lily is ready to call the cops if you don’t get out of the parking lot. One last time, I’m asking nice.’
Jack finished his beer and crushed the can against his leg. ‘Listen, you tell Lily if she wants her son out of the parking lot, she can come out here and ask me herself. Otherwise, I’m staying right where I am until the beer’s gone.’
For all of his life, Marty Pullman had been a man who got things done, who saw things wrong, and made them right. That Marty Pullman would have grabbed Jack and jerked him out of the chair and carried him away bodily, if necessary. It made him feel a little strange to realize he wasn’t that man anymore, and probably never would be again. ‘You’re making this a lot harder than it has to be, Jack.’
Jack regarded him for a moment, then smiled. ‘Gee, really? And I always thought things like this were supposed to be a little hard, and all I’m doing is having myself a little wake, Marty. A little private wake for Morey Gilbert, the nicest goddamned man in the world, the man everybody loved, the man who loved everybody, except his son, of course. And isn’t it funny? I’m the only one who showed up. I mean, really, Marty, look at what’s happening here. This place shouldn’t even be open today, but here you all are, business as usual, life goes on, gee, think we can take out five minutes tomorrow to get him in the ground?’
Marty threw the hose down in disgust, grabbed a can from the cooler and stalked back toward the greenhouse. ‘I give up.’
Jack laughed, and then hollered after him, ‘So what else is new?’
13
For the first five
He shrugged. ‘No big deal. It’s just this stupid bicycle messenger who claims he got whiplash when a UPS truck hit him. Weasel-faced bastard. He sees deep pockets, and suddenly he broke his fucking neck.’
‘So you’re blowing off court? Jesus, Jack, you’re going to get yourself disbarred.’
‘They’re not going to disbar me. They can’t. I’m on grief leave. My father was murdered, for chrissake . . . man, that is just too bizarre, isn’t it? I mean, the guy was almost eighty-five and I kind of expected him to keel over one of these days, but Jesus. Shot in the head? Who could see that coming? So what do you think, Marty? Got any ideas, any clues? Anything we can work with here?’
‘Just let the cops handle it, Jack.’
‘Well, hell, Marty, you are a cop.’
‘Ex-cop.’
‘Don’t give me that. Once a cop, always a cop. It’s in the blood, or something. I’ll bet that little gumshoe brain of yours is going about a hundred miles an hour trying to figure this out. So who do you think did it?’
‘I haven’t really thought about it.’
‘That is such bullshit.’
‘No, it’s not, Jack. I haven’t thought about it.’
Jack tried focusing on him for a long moment. ‘What the hell’s the matter with you? He was your father-in-law, for chrissake. Aren’t you at least curious?’
Marty took three seconds to examine whatever feelings he had left, and decided no, he wasn’t curious at all. ‘It’s not my job, Jack.’
‘Right you are, Marty. It’s not your job. It’s just your goddamned family, is all.’ He turned away, disgusted. ‘Christ. You’re even more fucked-up than I am.’
‘You want to ease up on the language a little, Jack? There are nice people here.’
Jack snorted. ‘You want to ease up on the holier-than-thou shit a little, Marty? There are smart people here, and they can see right through it . . . hey, you!’ He waved his beer can at a woman examining flowers at one of the outdoor tables. ‘Yeah, you in the tent dress! You want to stop fondling those pansies? And then come on over here, meet the biggest fuckstick on the planet.’
The woman gaped at him for a minute, then turned and hurried toward her car.
‘Okay, Jack, that’s it. You’ve got to get out of here.’
‘Fuck you, Marty.’
‘Goddamnit, Jack, Lily is ready to call the cops if you don’t get out of the parking lot. One last time, I’m asking nice.’
Jack finished his beer and crushed the can against his leg. ‘Listen, you tell Lily if she wants her son out of the parking lot, she can come out here and ask me herself. Otherwise, I’m staying right where I am until the beer’s gone.’
For all of his life, Marty Pullman had been a man who got things done, who saw things wrong, and made them right. That Marty Pullman would have grabbed Jack and jerked him out of the chair and carried him away bodily, if necessary. It made him feel a little strange to realize he wasn’t that man anymore, and probably never would be again. ‘You’re making this a lot harder than it has to be, Jack.’
Jack regarded him for a moment, then smiled. ‘Gee, really? And I always thought things like this were supposed to be a little hard, and all I’m doing is having myself a little wake, Marty. A little private wake for Morey Gilbert, the nicest goddamned man in the world, the man everybody loved, the man who loved everybody, except his son, of course. And isn’t it funny? I’m the only one who showed up. I mean, really, Marty, look at what’s happening here. This place shouldn’t even be open today, but here you all are, business as usual, life goes on, gee, think we can take out five minutes tomorrow to get him in the ground?’
Marty threw the hose down in disgust, grabbed a can from the cooler and stalked back toward the greenhouse. ‘I give up.’
Jack laughed, and then hollered after him, ‘So what else is new?’
13
For the first five
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