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Authors: Tom Corcoran
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monetary concession to ease Johnny’s mind about Liska’s petty prank. But I kept my mouth closed. Before Johnny left I swapped him a set of keys for a narrow bank envelope full of hundreds.
“Thanks for welcoming my friend to the tropics,” I said.
Liska was back to staring through the screen, studying my yard. “Did he hook his sense of humor on light tackle?”
“I think he borrowed it from Detective Lewis.”
“She’s my best detective,” said Liska. “Intense and eccentric, but good.”
“She was trying to accuse me of having an affair a long time ago.”
Liska turned, tried to read my eyes. “That she was, so let me talk straight, two things, package deal.”
His deals tended to go lopsided in his direction. “My curiosity awaits.”
“I see officers come and go,” he said. “I’m a crusty cop and set in my ways, but I’m not so stupid I could slap aside a man who…what the fuck word do I want, contributes? Stands up? You saved my ass three times in recent years. Cases got solved, you were the unsung hero, and I got the official recognition. Whatever you’ve got, most never will. So, thanks a bunch, and that ends my ‘attaboy’ session. Part 2, and I might get into your space here, but I know you pretty well, so I apologize in advance. Lewis was burned pretty badly about three years ago. He was a hot-dog lawyer from Dallas with one of those seven-figure houses on Truman Annex. She took the initiative, fell in love, and had a mad fling. Fifteen weeks into it, not only was he killed in a private-jet crash, but his wife showed up in Key West to close out his affairs. The dude never mentioned a wife. Since then she’s dated two or three gents, but her cold feet ruined the deals. If she invents jealousies and starts arguments, it doesn’t mean you’re not doing the right things. It’s her issue, and you have to stay steady.”
I felt mild relief and surprise. In his abrasive way, Liska had boosted my spirits. “Thanks for the background,” I said. “Are you feeling okay?”
“It’s my back,” said Liska. “I tried to carry a heavy box while I was on my cell phone.”
“You were shoulder-holding with your chin, right?”
“I turned my spine into a question mark.”
“And your next ten days, too.”
“Today I see the chiropractor and go for massage therapy. Tomorrow, the acupuncturist and the reflexologist. The day after that, the healer. If worse comes to worst, I can go to a real doctor.”
“You ought to hit the evidence locker for a muscle relaxer. Save you a lot of driving around. Or is that what you already did?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I have noted your disdainful approach to crime busting.”
“I may not be perfect, but there’s not a soul in this county that can do better at what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“Except you. Listen to the word supposed. ”
“Maybe I’ve been experiencing a failure of passion.”
“Little trouble in the bedroom?”
“My dick does fine, when I can get it employment. This is on-the-job.”
“You don’t give a shit?”
He jerked his head aside and wouldn’t look at me.
“Twenty-four hours ago you wanted me to be the great cop of the future,” I said. “Two minutes ago you said I had the right stuff. This long-faced follow-up tells me that police work is not a dream occupation. Is this depression your loneliness at the top or facing the daily grind?”
His eyelids drooped as he stared at the floor. “Maybe both, maybe something else. But you’ve got the wrong impression of your side of the table.”
“What do I become, your secret stand-in?”
“Something like that,” he said. “My eyes and ears. I might even be able to put you on the payroll, something administrative.”
“Which of us campaigns for reelection?”
“I’m not thinking past next week. If I’m not careful, I’ll screw up today or tomorrow. If I confessed all this to an employee, I’d crunch my propeller.”
“I
“Thanks for welcoming my friend to the tropics,” I said.
Liska was back to staring through the screen, studying my yard. “Did he hook his sense of humor on light tackle?”
“I think he borrowed it from Detective Lewis.”
“She’s my best detective,” said Liska. “Intense and eccentric, but good.”
“She was trying to accuse me of having an affair a long time ago.”
Liska turned, tried to read my eyes. “That she was, so let me talk straight, two things, package deal.”
His deals tended to go lopsided in his direction. “My curiosity awaits.”
“I see officers come and go,” he said. “I’m a crusty cop and set in my ways, but I’m not so stupid I could slap aside a man who…what the fuck word do I want, contributes? Stands up? You saved my ass three times in recent years. Cases got solved, you were the unsung hero, and I got the official recognition. Whatever you’ve got, most never will. So, thanks a bunch, and that ends my ‘attaboy’ session. Part 2, and I might get into your space here, but I know you pretty well, so I apologize in advance. Lewis was burned pretty badly about three years ago. He was a hot-dog lawyer from Dallas with one of those seven-figure houses on Truman Annex. She took the initiative, fell in love, and had a mad fling. Fifteen weeks into it, not only was he killed in a private-jet crash, but his wife showed up in Key West to close out his affairs. The dude never mentioned a wife. Since then she’s dated two or three gents, but her cold feet ruined the deals. If she invents jealousies and starts arguments, it doesn’t mean you’re not doing the right things. It’s her issue, and you have to stay steady.”
I felt mild relief and surprise. In his abrasive way, Liska had boosted my spirits. “Thanks for the background,” I said. “Are you feeling okay?”
“It’s my back,” said Liska. “I tried to carry a heavy box while I was on my cell phone.”
“You were shoulder-holding with your chin, right?”
“I turned my spine into a question mark.”
“And your next ten days, too.”
“Today I see the chiropractor and go for massage therapy. Tomorrow, the acupuncturist and the reflexologist. The day after that, the healer. If worse comes to worst, I can go to a real doctor.”
“You ought to hit the evidence locker for a muscle relaxer. Save you a lot of driving around. Or is that what you already did?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I have noted your disdainful approach to crime busting.”
“I may not be perfect, but there’s not a soul in this county that can do better at what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“Except you. Listen to the word supposed. ”
“Maybe I’ve been experiencing a failure of passion.”
“Little trouble in the bedroom?”
“My dick does fine, when I can get it employment. This is on-the-job.”
“You don’t give a shit?”
He jerked his head aside and wouldn’t look at me.
“Twenty-four hours ago you wanted me to be the great cop of the future,” I said. “Two minutes ago you said I had the right stuff. This long-faced follow-up tells me that police work is not a dream occupation. Is this depression your loneliness at the top or facing the daily grind?”
His eyelids drooped as he stared at the floor. “Maybe both, maybe something else. But you’ve got the wrong impression of your side of the table.”
“What do I become, your secret stand-in?”
“Something like that,” he said. “My eyes and ears. I might even be able to put you on the payroll, something administrative.”
“Which of us campaigns for reelection?”
“I’m not thinking past next week. If I’m not careful, I’ll screw up today or tomorrow. If I confessed all this to an employee, I’d crunch my propeller.”
“I
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