Ting-A-Ling by Mike Faricy

sitting on top of the file cabinet.
    “I’ll see if Detective Manning is available. One moment please.”
    I waited for ten seconds and was about to hang up when the sound of snapping gum crackled across the line and a voice half-yelled, “Manning.”
    “Detective Manning, this is Dev Haskell.”
    Louie pushed the ‘ON’ button on the coffee pot then turned to face me, nodding his support.
    “Haskell, how nice,” Manning said, sounding like he didn’t mean one word.
    “Listen, Detective. I read the morning paper.”
    “Oh?”
    “Yeah, the front page article about the fire that happened at the Casey’s site.”
    “Oh?”
    “Yes, sir, I’d like to make an appointment with you so I can come in with my attorney, Mr. Laufen, and…”
    “I remember your attorney, Mr. Laufen.”
    “Yeah, I figured you might. Anyway, I’d like to come down and set the record straight.”
    Louie shook his head and placed a finger to his lips, signaling me to be quiet.
    “Which record are we talking about, Haskell? I really have trouble keeping up where you’re concerned.”
    “We’d like to make an appointment to come down there, Detective. The sooner, the better,” I added.
    Louie nodded approval.
    “I can fit you in at, oh, how does twelve-forty-five sound?”
    It didn’t sound surprising, considering the source. It would screw up our lunch time plans, not that I had any.
    “That works,” I said, trying to sound like it did. “We’ll see you then, twelve-forty-five.”
    “Thank you,” Manning said, sounding less than sincere before he hung up.
    “So?” Louie asked.
    “You heard, twelve-forty-five. Typical, just in time to screw up our lunch time, plus it gives him a couple of hours to plan on how he can best rake me over the coals.”
    “Come on, how long does it take to order a Big Mac and fries? We can go through the drive-up if we want. Besides, he’s going to take your statement. Not give you the third degree.”
    “You sound a lot more convinced of that than me,” I said.
    It was a couple hours later and we were grabbing an early lunch. “Can you give me an extra ketchup with those fries?” Louie said. “You want anything else?” he asked me.
    I shook my head ‘no’ .
    “Better throw in a McRib,” Louie said.
    “Will there be anything else, sir?”
    “Probably one of those apple pies too,” Louie added, and looked over at me. “You sure you don’t want anything else?”
    I shook my head again.
    “That’ll do it,” he said into the speaker.
    The guy gave us our total and told us to pull up to the first window. We pulled up and waited for the car ahead to finish. The woman appeared to be having trouble finding her exact change.
    “I figure the apple pie kind of takes care of the fruit requirement for the day,” Louie said, sounding serious. He was staring vacantly out the window at the car ahead of us. Now the woman was placing one coin at a time into the palm of the guy’s outstretched hand.
    “Yeah, after the Big Mac, large fries, cheeseburger and the McRib is washed down with that strawberry shake, something healthy like apple pie probably does make sense,” I said.
    Louie nodded then added, “I’m getting this, by the way, you paid the last time.” The car ahead finally moved and Louie drove forward until he was alongside the window.
    The guy inside was talking into a headset, taking an order as he sorted a handful of coins into the change drawer. He took the twenty dollar bill Louie gave him, handed back about six cents in change and told us to pull ahead to the next window.
    As nice as Louie’s gesture sounded I felt like reminding him that the last time we ate together I paid after we had spent the better part of four hours at some trendy Italian place with thirty dollar entrees, two bottles of wine, something flaming for dessert and pretty strong after dinner drinks. I was not going to consider us even.
    “Thanks,” Louie said a moment later and handed a very large bag over