Yesterday's News by Jeremiah Healy

trunk. Jones watched us from the doorway to his office, smoothing down the fangs of his mustache.
    Schonstein said, “You’re playing with fire, Cuddy.”
    â€œHow about you hear me out, then ask any follow-up questions you’ve got?”
    â€œSay it.”
    â€œHagan didn’t send you guys, and I’m told your dad was a hell of a cop, so I doubt he sent you either. Think this through. If you’re mixed up in something like this, even innocently, you’re just making it look worse by rousting someone who probably can’t lay a glove on you.”
    Cronan said, “You got a big mouth.”
    â€œLook, Cronan, I’ve heard you were home sick the nights that matter. If that’s true, you’ve got nothing to worry about. If it’s not, you do. Either way, banging away at me doesn’t help the situation.”
    Schonstein said, “Coyne was a hustler.”
    Cronan cut in. “The kinda guy would queer a priest, he got the chance.”
    Schonstein said, “You think I’m gonna let you try to tie me up with him?”
    â€œI’ll tell you what I think. I think it’s damn peculiar the way people die down here. Things happened in Boston that happened here, just a whiff of police involvement and they’d be counting the shingles on your roof, just to be sure you didn’t have any you couldn’t account for.”
    Cronan said, “You ain’t in Boston now, pal.”
    â€œThat’s right. But I was when Jane Rust hired me, and I’ll be back there only after I’m finished here.”
    Schonstein said, “You’ll be finished here soon enough, we yank your license.”
    I shook my head. “First, you haven’t got the juice. You can start the process rolling back at the Department of Public Safety, but you can’t just reach out and grab it. Second, you’re a little shy of grounds. Hagan himself told me the files on both Coyne and Rust were closed. That means there’s no ongoing investigation I’m interfering with. Unless you can enlighten me there?”
    Schonstein thought it over. “Let’s go, Dan.”
    Cronan said to me, “Maybe sometime I catch you in an alley someplace. No badge, no bullshit. Just you and me. Then we’ll find out if your balls are as big as your mouth.”
    They turned and strode back to their unmarked sedan. Schonstein wheeled out, peeling some rubber in front of Jones.
    I raised my voice. “Thanks for backing my play, Mr. Jones.”
    He said, “First name’s Emil. What’re you doing for dinner?”
    â€œJohn, now that’s a good name. Strong, but common enough, you don’t start folks laughing when they hear it. Ever known anybody named Emil?”
    â€œNot till now.”
    â€œDidn’t think so. Growing up, other kids gave me hell to pay on it. One squirt, thought he was tough, called me Emily in front of a couple of girls.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œAnd he found two of his teeth right off. Probably swallowed the third one.”
    I laughed politely and reached for another Killian’s Irish Red ale on the kitchen counter. Jones had bought some barbecued chicken from a local place that did a terrific job on the sauce and the skin. While he heated it up, I drove to the liquor store for a couple of six packs. His dinette set just about filled the floor space between refrigerator and stove.
    Emil said, “This Killian’s is pretty good stuff. Come out of Boston?”
    â€œNo. I think it’s part of Coors. Our breweries are trying to make a comeback, but they’re kind of boutique operations so far.”
    â€œBack in the service, I got a taste for the stronger beers. German, mostly.”
    â€œThat where you were stationed?”
    â€œRight. Air Defense Artillery. Near transferred to Field Artillery once I found out not many of us were going to Nam.”
    â€œYou didn’t miss much.”
    Jones