Read Online Faustus Resurrectus by Thomas Morrissey - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Thomas Morrissey
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“You know?”
“I’ve been an attorney for longer than you’ve been alive, Donovan.” Genuine happiness—an emotion Donovan had rarely seen from the man—lit his face. “I know how to read signs.”
With an effort Donovan noted, Joann put the Dinkins Shelter away, smiled and held out her ring for inspection. “Isn’t it beautiful? Donovan designed it himself.”
Conrad glanced at him with mild surprise before leaning in and raising his glasses to see it up close. “Very nice.”
“I have a friend in the jewelry business.”
The hostess approached and told them their table was ready. “Have the champagne brought over,” Conrad directed Donovan, putting an arm around Joann to guide her away. With a smile, she stood her ground until Donovan took care of it. Conrad’s smile never left his face as he went a few steps ahead, waving to a crony. Donovan would have hated to play poker against him.
“He seems to be taking it well,” he murmured in Joann’s ear as they wove through the dinner crowd to their table. “Is there another shoe to drop?”
She kissed his cheek. “You can handle him.”
And, at least for dinner, he did.
***
The mayor’s impending involvement in the Dinkins Shelter case had Joann spooked, and over the next few days she put in long hours at the DA’s office. Donovan saw little of her. Although he was also working, he felt her absence acutely when he had to settle for brief, longing phone calls stolen from her job. He hated the helplessness he felt for her situation and wished he could offer some kind of assistance. The only way he could think that would allow him to help, though, would have to involve Fullam. He’d heard nothing from the sergeant since they’d parted, leaving him at a dead end. It was a frustrating situation, but at least he was consoled by the prospect of their weekly date.
***
“But it’s Wednesday,” Donovan said into his cell. “Dance House, remember? Practice for the wedding? You still have time to get home and change.”
“ I know, baby, but I have to work. I’m sorry. ”
Damn. “Don’t worry about it. I can reschedule the class.” Disappointed, he dropped down onto his couch. Wonder what time the Mets are on? “You sound exhausted.”
“ You have no idea. ”
“Maybe you could take a break? I could come by the office with some takeout.” He looked at the pile of menus near his door, menus he knew he’d better clean up soon if he didn’t want to see cockroaches. “I mean, you must get time for dinner, right?”
“ No, I… ” She sighed. “ I’m not at the office. ”
“Where are you?”
“ I can’t really talk about it. I’m sorry about Dance House. Whenever you reschedule will be fine. I’ll make sure I’m not working. ”
“All right.” He idly reached for the remote. “Call me if you can. I’ll get some takeout and be here.”
“ Okay, baby. I love you. I’m sorry. Have a good night. ”
“I love you, too. Bye.” He closed his cell. “Damn. That sucks .”
He put the phone on the table and went to see what takeout menus had been jammed under his door that day. On the coffee table, his phone buzzed. He took a pile of menus and went to get it, saw it was Joann’s cell and paused. She changed her mind, I hope…?
“ Mister Graham? ” Fullam’s voice surprised him. “ I understand you’re free tonight? ”
***
The setting sun washed the sky red and purple, pollution from the rush-hour exodus making the colors extra vibrant. Donovan’s favorite thing about summer in New York was the sunsets. The gorgeous colors almost made up for the humidity that turned the city to soup until October.
Beneath this picturesque canopy he guided his Vulcan down the West Side Highway, through the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel and along the edge of Bay Ridge on the Belt Parkway. He was headed out to Coney Island, to the New York Aquarium, to join the lieutenant and Joann. As he rode, he thought about what Fullam had
“I’ve been an attorney for longer than you’ve been alive, Donovan.” Genuine happiness—an emotion Donovan had rarely seen from the man—lit his face. “I know how to read signs.”
With an effort Donovan noted, Joann put the Dinkins Shelter away, smiled and held out her ring for inspection. “Isn’t it beautiful? Donovan designed it himself.”
Conrad glanced at him with mild surprise before leaning in and raising his glasses to see it up close. “Very nice.”
“I have a friend in the jewelry business.”
The hostess approached and told them their table was ready. “Have the champagne brought over,” Conrad directed Donovan, putting an arm around Joann to guide her away. With a smile, she stood her ground until Donovan took care of it. Conrad’s smile never left his face as he went a few steps ahead, waving to a crony. Donovan would have hated to play poker against him.
“He seems to be taking it well,” he murmured in Joann’s ear as they wove through the dinner crowd to their table. “Is there another shoe to drop?”
She kissed his cheek. “You can handle him.”
And, at least for dinner, he did.
***
The mayor’s impending involvement in the Dinkins Shelter case had Joann spooked, and over the next few days she put in long hours at the DA’s office. Donovan saw little of her. Although he was also working, he felt her absence acutely when he had to settle for brief, longing phone calls stolen from her job. He hated the helplessness he felt for her situation and wished he could offer some kind of assistance. The only way he could think that would allow him to help, though, would have to involve Fullam. He’d heard nothing from the sergeant since they’d parted, leaving him at a dead end. It was a frustrating situation, but at least he was consoled by the prospect of their weekly date.
***
“But it’s Wednesday,” Donovan said into his cell. “Dance House, remember? Practice for the wedding? You still have time to get home and change.”
“ I know, baby, but I have to work. I’m sorry. ”
Damn. “Don’t worry about it. I can reschedule the class.” Disappointed, he dropped down onto his couch. Wonder what time the Mets are on? “You sound exhausted.”
“ You have no idea. ”
“Maybe you could take a break? I could come by the office with some takeout.” He looked at the pile of menus near his door, menus he knew he’d better clean up soon if he didn’t want to see cockroaches. “I mean, you must get time for dinner, right?”
“ No, I… ” She sighed. “ I’m not at the office. ”
“Where are you?”
“ I can’t really talk about it. I’m sorry about Dance House. Whenever you reschedule will be fine. I’ll make sure I’m not working. ”
“All right.” He idly reached for the remote. “Call me if you can. I’ll get some takeout and be here.”
“ Okay, baby. I love you. I’m sorry. Have a good night. ”
“I love you, too. Bye.” He closed his cell. “Damn. That sucks .”
He put the phone on the table and went to see what takeout menus had been jammed under his door that day. On the coffee table, his phone buzzed. He took a pile of menus and went to get it, saw it was Joann’s cell and paused. She changed her mind, I hope…?
“ Mister Graham? ” Fullam’s voice surprised him. “ I understand you’re free tonight? ”
***
The setting sun washed the sky red and purple, pollution from the rush-hour exodus making the colors extra vibrant. Donovan’s favorite thing about summer in New York was the sunsets. The gorgeous colors almost made up for the humidity that turned the city to soup until October.
Beneath this picturesque canopy he guided his Vulcan down the West Side Highway, through the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel and along the edge of Bay Ridge on the Belt Parkway. He was headed out to Coney Island, to the New York Aquarium, to join the lieutenant and Joann. As he rode, he thought about what Fullam had
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