friend of Jimmy's. I come around to look him up."
"An old friend from where?"
"Upstate. We worked for the same trucker, up in Buffalo."
"How come you don't have a chauffeur's license?"
"I don't do that kind of work any more."
"What kind of work do you do now?"
"I'm unemployed. I was laid off. That's what the fight was all about."
"What fight?"
"With my wife. I told you."
"Laid off from where?"
"General Electric. Out on the Island."
The cop chewed the inside of his cheek a minute, and glanced at his partner. "You tell a good story, Johnson. But you feel wrong."
Parker shrugged.
The cop said, "How come you're so hipped on narcotics? How come you brought the subject up the minute you saw us?"
"The neighborhood has a reputation," Parker said. "I been reading the Post."
"Yeah. Lean up against the wall there."
Parker leaned forward, palms flat against the wall, and the cop frisked him briefly, then stepped back, saying, "Okay."
"I'm clean," Parker said. "Do I take my goods back now?"
"Yes."
Parker took his wallet and change and cigarettes from the counter top and put them back in his pocket, watching as Del-gardo was frisked and also found clean. The talking cop nodded sourly at Parker and said, "You can go. I suppose we'll be seeing you around."
"I doubt it," Parker said. "It's more civilized downtown."
"We didn't ask for this precinct," the cop said.
"Nobody did," Parker said.
"Take off," said the other cop.
Parker went on out, pushing past the two women, who still look terrified. They hadn't understood a word. They believed Delgardo had called the police to arrest them for shoplifting.
Chapter 2
I'm looking for a girl," said Parker.
She smirked at him. "What do you think I am, big boy -- a watermelon?"
Parker picked up his beer glass, looking at the cool wet ring it left on the bar. "I'm looking for a particular girl," he said.
She arched a brow. She plucked her eyebrows and painted on new ones, in the wrong place, so that when she arched a brow it came out wrong, like a badly animated cartoon. "A hustler? I don't know them all, baby."
"She'd work by telephone," he said. "She wouldn't be a loner, she'd be connected with the organization."
She shook her head. "Then I wouldn't know her."
Parker emptied the glass, motioned at the bartender for another round. "You'd know people who might know her," he said.
"I might and I might not." The round came and she said, "Thanks. Why should I tell you anything? I don't know you from Adam."
He looked at her. "Do I look like law?"
She laughed. "Not much. That's one thing you're not. But maybe you want to give her a bad time. Maybe she gave you athlete's foot once or something."
"I'm her brother," Parker lied. "We been out of touch. The doctor tells me I got a little cancer in my throat. I want to look her up, you know how it is. It's my last chance."
She looked shocked and mournful. "Jeez," she said. "That's a bitch, man. I'm sorry."
Parker shrugged. "I had a good life. I got maybe six months to go. So I thought I'd look her up. There's just her and this aunt of ours, and I wouldn't look the aunt up if she had a cancer cure."
"Jeez," she said again. Meditations on mortality creased her brow. "I know how you feel, man," she said. "You maybe don't think so, but I do. In this lousy business, you got to be thinking about disease all the time. There was this girl I knew, we used to room together. She didn't feel so good, and it hurt to swallow, and sometimes she'd spit blood, so she thought it was TB. I told her and told her, go down to the clinic, so finally she did, and they put her in the hospital. She had a little something in the back of her throat too. Not cancer. The occupational disease, you know?"
Parker nodded. He couldn't care less, but if he let her talk about this maybe she'd talk about the other.
"She's still in there," she said. "I went to see her once, and it was awful. She looked like an old bag, you know? And she couldn't even talk any more,
"An old friend from where?"
"Upstate. We worked for the same trucker, up in Buffalo."
"How come you don't have a chauffeur's license?"
"I don't do that kind of work any more."
"What kind of work do you do now?"
"I'm unemployed. I was laid off. That's what the fight was all about."
"What fight?"
"With my wife. I told you."
"Laid off from where?"
"General Electric. Out on the Island."
The cop chewed the inside of his cheek a minute, and glanced at his partner. "You tell a good story, Johnson. But you feel wrong."
Parker shrugged.
The cop said, "How come you're so hipped on narcotics? How come you brought the subject up the minute you saw us?"
"The neighborhood has a reputation," Parker said. "I been reading the Post."
"Yeah. Lean up against the wall there."
Parker leaned forward, palms flat against the wall, and the cop frisked him briefly, then stepped back, saying, "Okay."
"I'm clean," Parker said. "Do I take my goods back now?"
"Yes."
Parker took his wallet and change and cigarettes from the counter top and put them back in his pocket, watching as Del-gardo was frisked and also found clean. The talking cop nodded sourly at Parker and said, "You can go. I suppose we'll be seeing you around."
"I doubt it," Parker said. "It's more civilized downtown."
"We didn't ask for this precinct," the cop said.
"Nobody did," Parker said.
"Take off," said the other cop.
Parker went on out, pushing past the two women, who still look terrified. They hadn't understood a word. They believed Delgardo had called the police to arrest them for shoplifting.
Chapter 2
I'm looking for a girl," said Parker.
She smirked at him. "What do you think I am, big boy -- a watermelon?"
Parker picked up his beer glass, looking at the cool wet ring it left on the bar. "I'm looking for a particular girl," he said.
She arched a brow. She plucked her eyebrows and painted on new ones, in the wrong place, so that when she arched a brow it came out wrong, like a badly animated cartoon. "A hustler? I don't know them all, baby."
"She'd work by telephone," he said. "She wouldn't be a loner, she'd be connected with the organization."
She shook her head. "Then I wouldn't know her."
Parker emptied the glass, motioned at the bartender for another round. "You'd know people who might know her," he said.
"I might and I might not." The round came and she said, "Thanks. Why should I tell you anything? I don't know you from Adam."
He looked at her. "Do I look like law?"
She laughed. "Not much. That's one thing you're not. But maybe you want to give her a bad time. Maybe she gave you athlete's foot once or something."
"I'm her brother," Parker lied. "We been out of touch. The doctor tells me I got a little cancer in my throat. I want to look her up, you know how it is. It's my last chance."
She looked shocked and mournful. "Jeez," she said. "That's a bitch, man. I'm sorry."
Parker shrugged. "I had a good life. I got maybe six months to go. So I thought I'd look her up. There's just her and this aunt of ours, and I wouldn't look the aunt up if she had a cancer cure."
"Jeez," she said again. Meditations on mortality creased her brow. "I know how you feel, man," she said. "You maybe don't think so, but I do. In this lousy business, you got to be thinking about disease all the time. There was this girl I knew, we used to room together. She didn't feel so good, and it hurt to swallow, and sometimes she'd spit blood, so she thought it was TB. I told her and told her, go down to the clinic, so finally she did, and they put her in the hospital. She had a little something in the back of her throat too. Not cancer. The occupational disease, you know?"
Parker nodded. He couldn't care less, but if he let her talk about this maybe she'd talk about the other.
"She's still in there," she said. "I went to see her once, and it was awful. She looked like an old bag, you know? And she couldn't even talk any more,
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