“Really? Are all cops bad liars, Dad, or just you?”
Rizzo grunted with bitterness. “The best liars in the world are cops, Carol,” he said. “That’s one of the first things you learn when you go on this job. How to lie.” He shrugged. “If I had a dollar for every time I testified without perjurin’ myself, I couldn’t pay for these two coffees.”
She gave a humorless laugh. “Okay, Dad, exaggerate. Anything to help you make your point.”
He shook his head. “I don’t have to exaggerate to make my point. The truth is more than good enough. All I’m saying is being a cop isn’t a good career for a young girl, a young person. It’s not the kinda life you want to lead, Carol, it’s—”
His daughter cut him off, her own anger now tugging at her facial muscles. “Just what makes you think you know what kind of a life I want to lead?” she said. “Wasn’t it you, you and Mom, who lectured us every damn day about how we could be this, we could be that, anything a boy could do, we could do? Wasn’t that you? Now, all of a sudden—”
Rizzo interrupted. “This has nothin’ to do with that,” he said, more harshly than he had intended. “Yeah, you could be a cop, just as good a cop as any son of mine coulda been. But you know what? If you were my son, I’d be tellin’ you the same thing. Yeah, you can be a good cop, you can be a good ax murderer, too. But that don’t mean you should be one, just ’cause you can be.”
“But Daddy . . .”
Rizzo shook his head so sharply, the movement transferred to the tiny table, shaking their coffee containers. “The job isn’t what you think it is,” he said. “Maybe it never was, but it sure as hell isn’t these days. You wanna be some kinda hero, you wanna change the world, saves lives? Become a schoolteacher, like your mother. You think I ever prevented a crime? You think I ever made a friggin’ difference? Maybe once, twice in twenty-seven years. The resta the time, I was too late—the woman was already raped, the baby already thrown out the window, the pizza delivery guy already shot to death for the twenty bucks he was carryin’. It’s always already done, Carol, you don’t stop it from happening.”
Now it was Carol who shook her head sharply. “That’s total B.S., and you know it. You’re only saying that to make a point. All those arrests you made over the years, hundreds, maybe a thousand. You have no way of knowing how many crimes, how much grief and suffering you prevented, how many lives you saved by putting all those criminals behind bars. You know it’s true, Daddy, you know—”
“It sucks the life outta you,” he said, his anger now clashing with a sudden onset of depression welling in his chest. “It eats at you, a little bit at a time, till one day you wake up and you ain’t there anymore. Somebody else is. Somebody you partnered with years ago, when you were a rookie, some old cop long retired, or dead. And now he’s back, wearin’ your clothes, livin’ your life.” Rizzo’s eyes implored her. “Believe me, honey. It sucks the life outta you. It puts out your fire. Like a slow, constant trickle of water, drop by drop, bit by bit, till the fire is all gone.”
Carol, so self-assured just moments before, now sat studying her father’s face, her resolve wavering with the sight of him so upset.
“All right, Daddy,” she said, her tone now soft. “I realize it can be a difficult life. But anything worthwhile is difficult.” She smiled. “Another one of the things you taught me.”
“Don’t make me fight my own words, Carol,” he said. “Please.”
“You’re not,” she said, leaning closer to him, laying a hand on his arm. “You’re fighting the truth. Those words you spoke years ago. That’s what they were, the truth.”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, digging spurs of determination into his consciousness even as he frantically fought to recall the words of his mea sured, rehearsed
Rizzo grunted with bitterness. “The best liars in the world are cops, Carol,” he said. “That’s one of the first things you learn when you go on this job. How to lie.” He shrugged. “If I had a dollar for every time I testified without perjurin’ myself, I couldn’t pay for these two coffees.”
She gave a humorless laugh. “Okay, Dad, exaggerate. Anything to help you make your point.”
He shook his head. “I don’t have to exaggerate to make my point. The truth is more than good enough. All I’m saying is being a cop isn’t a good career for a young girl, a young person. It’s not the kinda life you want to lead, Carol, it’s—”
His daughter cut him off, her own anger now tugging at her facial muscles. “Just what makes you think you know what kind of a life I want to lead?” she said. “Wasn’t it you, you and Mom, who lectured us every damn day about how we could be this, we could be that, anything a boy could do, we could do? Wasn’t that you? Now, all of a sudden—”
Rizzo interrupted. “This has nothin’ to do with that,” he said, more harshly than he had intended. “Yeah, you could be a cop, just as good a cop as any son of mine coulda been. But you know what? If you were my son, I’d be tellin’ you the same thing. Yeah, you can be a good cop, you can be a good ax murderer, too. But that don’t mean you should be one, just ’cause you can be.”
“But Daddy . . .”
Rizzo shook his head so sharply, the movement transferred to the tiny table, shaking their coffee containers. “The job isn’t what you think it is,” he said. “Maybe it never was, but it sure as hell isn’t these days. You wanna be some kinda hero, you wanna change the world, saves lives? Become a schoolteacher, like your mother. You think I ever prevented a crime? You think I ever made a friggin’ difference? Maybe once, twice in twenty-seven years. The resta the time, I was too late—the woman was already raped, the baby already thrown out the window, the pizza delivery guy already shot to death for the twenty bucks he was carryin’. It’s always already done, Carol, you don’t stop it from happening.”
Now it was Carol who shook her head sharply. “That’s total B.S., and you know it. You’re only saying that to make a point. All those arrests you made over the years, hundreds, maybe a thousand. You have no way of knowing how many crimes, how much grief and suffering you prevented, how many lives you saved by putting all those criminals behind bars. You know it’s true, Daddy, you know—”
“It sucks the life outta you,” he said, his anger now clashing with a sudden onset of depression welling in his chest. “It eats at you, a little bit at a time, till one day you wake up and you ain’t there anymore. Somebody else is. Somebody you partnered with years ago, when you were a rookie, some old cop long retired, or dead. And now he’s back, wearin’ your clothes, livin’ your life.” Rizzo’s eyes implored her. “Believe me, honey. It sucks the life outta you. It puts out your fire. Like a slow, constant trickle of water, drop by drop, bit by bit, till the fire is all gone.”
Carol, so self-assured just moments before, now sat studying her father’s face, her resolve wavering with the sight of him so upset.
“All right, Daddy,” she said, her tone now soft. “I realize it can be a difficult life. But anything worthwhile is difficult.” She smiled. “Another one of the things you taught me.”
“Don’t make me fight my own words, Carol,” he said. “Please.”
“You’re not,” she said, leaning closer to him, laying a hand on his arm. “You’re fighting the truth. Those words you spoke years ago. That’s what they were, the truth.”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, digging spurs of determination into his consciousness even as he frantically fought to recall the words of his mea sured, rehearsed
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