Read Online Ed McBain_87th Precinct 22 by Fuzz - Free Book Online

guy wearing a thing in his ear (A hearing aid, you mean, kid?) yeah, a thing in his ear, had stopped him across the street from the police station and offered him five bucks to carry an envelope in to the desk sergeant. The kid couldn’t see nothing wrong with bringing an envelope into the police station, so he done it, and that was all, he didn’t even know who the guy with the thing in his ear was. (You mean a hearing aid kid?) Yeah, a thing in his ear, he didn’t know who he was, never even seen him around the neighborhood or nothing, so could he go home now because he had to make a stop at Linda’s Boutique to pick up some dresses for his sister who did sewing at home for Mrs. Montana? (He was wearing a hearing aid, huh, kid?) Yeah, a thing in his ear, the kid said.
    So they let the kid go at two-thirty without even offering him an ice cream cone or some gumdrops, and then they sat around the squadroom handling the suspect note with a pair of tweezers and decided to send it over toLieutenant Sam Grossman at the police lab in the hope that he could lift some latent prints that did not belong to Sergeant Murchison.
    None of them mentioned the deaf man.
    Nobody likes to talk about ghosts.
    Or even
think
about them.
    “Hello, Bernice,” Meyer said into the telephone, “is your boss around? Yeah, sure, I’ll wait.”
    Patiently, he tapped a pencil on his desk and waited. In a moment, a bright perky voice materialized on the line.
    “Assistant District Attorney Raoul Chabrier,” the voice insisted.
    “Hello, Rollie, this is Meyer Meyer up here at the 87th,” Meyer said. “How’s every little thing down there on Chelsea Street?”
    “Oh, pretty good, pretty good,” Chabrier said, “what have you got for us, a little homicide up there perhaps?”
    “No, nothing like that, Rollie,” Meyer said.
    “A little ax murder perhaps?” Chabrier said.
    “No, as a matter of fact, this is something personal,” Meyer said.
    “Oh-ho!” Chabrier said.
    “Yeah. Listen, Rollie, what can you do if somebody uses your name?”
    “What do you mean?” Chabrier asked.
    “In a book.”
    “Oh-ho!”
Chabrier said. “Did somebody use your name in a book?”
    “Yes.”
    “In a book about the workings of the police department?”
    “No.”
    “Were you mentioned specifically?”
    “No. Well, yes
and
no. What do you mean?”
    “Did the book specifically mention Detective 3rd/Grade Meyer …”
    “Detective
2nd/
Grade,” Meyer corrected.
    “It specifically mentioned Detective 2nd/Grade Meyer Meyer of the …”
    “No.”
    “It
didn’t
mention you?”
    “No. Not that way.”
    “I thought you said somebody used your name.”
    “Well, they did. She did.”
    “Meyer, I’m a busy man,” Chabrier said. “I’ve got a caseload here that would fell a brewer’s horse, now would you please tell me what’s on your mind?”
    “A novel,” Meyer said. “It’s a novel named
Meyer Meyer.”
    “That is the title of the novel?” Chabrier asked.
    “Yes. Can I sue?”
    “I’m a criminal lawyer,” Chabrier said.
    “Yes, but …”
    “I am not familiar with the law of literary property.”
    “Yes, but …”
    “Is it a good book?”
    “I don’t know,” Meyer said. “You see,” he said, “I’m a
person
, and this book is about some college professor or something, and he’s a short plump fellow …”
    “I’ll have to read it,” Chabrier said.
    “Will you call me after you’ve read it?”
    “What for?”
    “To advise me.”
    “On what?”
    “On whether I can sue or not.”
    “I’ll have to read the law,” Chabrier said. “Do I owe you a favor, Meyer?”
    “You owe me
six
of them,” Meyer said somewhat heatedly, “as for example the several times I could have got you out of bed at three o’clock in the morning when we had real meat here in the squadroom and at great risk to myself I held the suspect until the following morning so you could get your beauty sleep on nights when you had the duty.