The Hard Bounce - [43]

The muscle midget scowled and gave the card a once-over, like he was expecting a fake. Even in the dark, I saw his color turn three shades of green before he swallowed hard. “Yeah. We were just… We didn’t…”

“You didn’t what?” There was a real edge in Dog’s voice. “You didn’t know you were interrupting a ranking officer’s conversation?”

“No sir, we didn’t.” The taller one had completely lost his swagger. The smaller one still looked fit to bust, but was keeping himself under control. I debated patting him on the top of the head, but as far as the totem pole of power went, I was still at the bottom of the present quartet.

Underdog poked the tall one in the chest with his loaded finger. “So, in the event that I was not a detective, you two assholes saw fit to verbally abuse and possibly assault a pair of citizens.”

“There have been trespasses by graffiti vandals.” The short one’s voice had started to whine.

“Shut your mouth, Pee-Wee,” Underdog said. “Obviously you didn’t see us tagging the wharf, so you and your excuses can kiss my hairy ass.” Underdog was only a few inches taller, but the dig worked. The midget deflated, punctured by Dog’s tone. “What district are you idiots out of? A-1?”

“Yes sir,” they said simultaneously.

“Larson’s your captain, then?”

The two exchanged a quick, nervous glance. “Yes sir,” in unison again.

“All right. Unless you two want a disciplinary phone call made to Captain Larson in the morning, you’re going to head back to your car and fuck off.”

“Yes sir,” in unison one more time, heads hung like a pair of beaten puppies. They turned to go.

“And put on your goddamn hats. You officers are out of uniform.”

They flinched at the last comment and walked off. In the distance, I saw them both put their hats on the second they climbed into their cruiser.

“Damn, Dog. That was tight.”

“And you-” He spun on me, the same loaded finger trained right in my face this time. “Did you just tell me that you and Junior are going to kill off this Snake character when you find him?”

“You didn’t see that DVD, Dog. He cut her fucking throat. You didn’t watch that little girl die. I did. So did Junior.”

“You know what, Boo? You know I’m a loser.” He jammed his finger hard into his own bony chest. “I know I’m a fucking loser. But I am still an officer of the goddamn law. And you just confessed to me intent to murder. Murder, Boo!”

“You want to see it? I’ll fucking show it to you. Watch the video. You decide whether this cocksucker deserves to die or not.”

“I don’t want to watch it,” he said. “And it’s not up to you or me to decide. Get this guy. Turn him in. You’ve got evidence.”

“No way. No way am I trusting this guy to the system.”

“Bullshit, Boo! Bullshit! More often than not, it does work.”

“But sometimes it doesn’t.”

Dog sighed and turned away from me. “If the law is so ass-backward in your estimation, if we’re such fuck-ups on my side of the fence, what do you want from me?”

“If push comes to shove? I want your alibi.”

Underdog huffed a short, sharp laugh, but he still didn’t look at me. “Why? Because my alibi just might hold a little weight because I’m a cop?”

“Well, yeah.”

Dog turned his head slightly to me, but he was still unable or unwilling to look at me. “You are some piece of work, Boo Malone. Really. A piece of work.” With that, he walked off.

I’d gambled on Underdog. On his support. I was a fool to do so. But it still didn’t change a thing.

As I walked back toward Haymarket and the Green T line, a movement caught my attention out the corner of my eye.

Deep in shadow, stood The Boy.

He looked up, one small hand touching the dolphin sculpture.

Chapter Fourteen

How the hell was I supposed to see Kelly again and not tell her what we’d seen? How could we face Barnes, much less Donnelly? “Hi. Didn’t find your daughter, but I have a video of her being raped and stuck like a piglet. Can we have some money now?”

Not to mention Emily, and all that the information on her could have represented-even though I still wasn’t positive I wanted it.

So I walked. I walked past Faneuil Hall. The evening fog swirled in the low walk lights as small groups of tourists milled about. A few couples on romantic strolls, holding hands. I was the only solo pedestrian in the area.

Being alone was a set of feelings I’d long come to terms with. But this was a new kind of alone for me. I don’t know. It hurt. It hurt me in places I didn’t know were still wired into my nervous system.

I didn’t know what I thought Underdog would say. Maybe a part of me wanted him to try and talk me out of it.

So I wandered. I didn’t feel like hanging at The Cellar. It was too easy there. I would start drinking again, and drunk was a comfortable womb I’d been finding my way into far too often lately.

Another hour and a half of wandering, and I was standing in front of the coffee shop I’d gone to after corralling Kelly home. It was almost 1 A.M. As far as ideas went, it seemed like my least stupid of the week, at least. I retraced my steps to her door and rang the buzzer before reason and common sense could lead me elsewhere. I wound up there for a purpose, though I’d be damned if I could name it.