accountant.’
I poured a Guinness, focused
Merrick went to say something, I snapped
‘Shut the fook up, I’m nearly there.’
Ran it all over in my mind, the thought niggling on the edges of my sub consciousness
came crashing clear, I thought, fook, this perp is smart, real smart but…………’
Then something else struck me, why now, why did the guy feel the need to tie up loose
ends, unless he was spooked, unless he’d heard something, fook, fook, fook.’
I asked
‘Did you talk to anyone, say the case was near to closure, anyone at all?’
His face showed the guilt, he looked away, I ventured
‘Let me guess, I’m pretty sure I know, the same guy said to me in the
hospital…………….come to dinner, bring your Indian girlfriend.’
I was cruising, flying, ideas, racing through my mind, I said
‘Remember way back, I said, there were two and one might be a cop? Serg. Boxer said to
me he felt there were two and……one could be a cop………..or………ex-cop,
somebody you’d feel comfortable talking to?’
His body literally sagged in on itself, he sat down, realization crushing him, put his head
in his hands, said
‘Oh VI, Charlie,Jesus wept and I never told him about the credit card or the flowers, or
Mr.’s. Trent. Oh my Lord, Ryan, I’m so sorry.’
I desperately wanted to, as he once explained to me……………..ream him a new one.
But that could come later, right now, we had to snare the slimy clever bastard. I said
‘Get a grip, we can trap him but it means you have to go and meet him, act like you’re
confused, tell him about Mr’s Trent and how you and I are going to see her the next day,
try to figure it out. He’ll have to act, and fast. Clear up the whole mess and we follow
him, take him in the act of trying for Mr.’s Trent.’
I added his own word
‘Capiche?’
He shook his head, said
‘Sit with him have a brew and act like everything is hunky dory, he’ll smell a rat.’
I grabbed him by both his shoulders, said
‘You screwed it up, now you put it right, act…………you cam fookin act, right?’
He nodded miserably.
I let out my breath, said
‘Ok, I’m going to Queens, be in place. When he leaves, give him five minutes, then
follow him. He’ll go to Queens but we don’t want him killing anyone else.’
A thought occurred to him, he said
‘This means….the accountant is the other killer, the serial wanna-be, what about him?’
I asked
‘Ever hear of two birds with one stone?’
His last effort
‘Shouldn’t we hand it all over to NYPD?’
‘Right, and by the time they get their arse in gear, if they buy it, don’t forget, they’ve a
closed case, Charlie will have killed the freak and Mr.’s Trent and high the fookin-tailed
it outa Dodge.’
He smiled.
My patience was ragged to put it mildly and I went
‘What, I say something funny?’
He waved it away, said
‘Just………..you sounded like an American just then.’
I grabbed the Sig from the table, said
‘Tool up yer own self, right?’
He said
‘After I got shot, I got my Dad’s Pump shotgun from the attic.’
I said
‘The Getaway.’
‘What?
‘Steve mc Queen in Sam Peckinpah’s movie, put the Pump into iconic territory.’
He stood, said
‘Jesus, you and the freaking movies.’
Then he had a thought, asked
‘Did Steve Mc Queen survive, in the movie I mean?’
‘Rent it, find out for yourself.’
‘MEETING WITH…….TREACHOROUS MEN.’
Merrick was nervous. Had bought a bottle of Black Bush mill’s as cover. Ryan had told
him it was the cream de la crème of Irish whiskeys. Of course Ryan hadn’t described it
thus, he’d said
‘It’s the bollocks!’
That shit cost.
A lot.
He got to Charlie’s and yup, there was the man, working the place, glad-handing and
schmoozing like he’d won the lottery. That helped Merrick to get into character.
Charlie saw him smile broadened, approached, asked
‘Bro, to what do we owe the pleasure so soon?’
Merrick’s paranoia but was there just a slight edge on the……so soon?
He thought
‘Never no fucking mind, I’ll put that edge into orbit….bro.’
He handed over the Black and Charlie whistled, went
‘Wow, are we celebrating?’
Merrick let a slightly confused look appear, said
‘We should be, I need your cop instinct’s a minute.’
Charlie was all eagerness to help.
But first
……………….sit
Chill
…………………………….break the seal on the Bush mills.
Did.
Got behind a shot or two of that amber gold then Charlie asked
‘What’s breaking buddy?’
Merrick told him the case had been solved, and Charlie, raising his glass in anticipatory
toast, asked
‘But that’s good, right?’
Merrick explained in detail about the roses, the credit card, Mr.’s Trent, took a moment,
said
‘Ryan I are going to take a trip to Queen’s tomorrow, check it out.’
Charlie put his glass, untouched on the table, asked
‘Is that wise, I mean, why not hand the whole crap shoot to the cops?’
Merrick smiled, said
‘My sentiments exactly but Ryan, you know, he’s got his idea the accountant might be
the real killer.’
Charlie said
‘Yeah, I can see where’s he coming from, so, tomorrow then.’
Merrick said
‘I’d have gone today but the kid, he’s tied up so we go tomorrow.’
Charlie raised his glass now, said
‘Good luck with that buddy.’
And ten minutes later, said
‘Oh crap, I got to go bro, a damn delivery held up in The Bronx, you believe that shit?’
They said warm goodbye’s and Charlie said
‘And thanks for the bottle, sure appreciate that.’
Merrick sat for a while, contemplating another drink. But he couldn’t. Then something
struck him. Way back, when Charlie had been setting up his joint, he’d been searching
for a good chef. Figuring a dinner menu was the real goal mine, drinks sure but the food
was the real goldmine.
He’d asked Merrick who knew a guy from his Synagogue. The fuck was his name?
Jacob……………..Jacob……yes, Hoffer. They’d used to kid him about Jimmy Hoffa,
saying the feds should check his Ravioli for Hoffa. Jacob had said to Merrick
‘ A kosher joke, ok but Hoffa, I mean, do I look like a Wop?’
No.
Charlie had left the Bush Mills on the table. Some hurry. Irish guy to leave that. He
grabbed the bottle, headed for the kitchen. No one stopped him, a guy who the boss
regularly drank with?
Get outa here.
The kitchen was closing down, rush hour done.Save for a dish washing guy
and………..bingo…….Jacob. It’s an unfortunate cliché that chef’s are drunks. Jacob just
liked to drink while he was working and so he worked a lot.
Not so much Kitchen Confidential as Kitchen homicidal.
Merrick went
‘Shalom.’
Jacob turned, his chefs hat, askew, which could be good news as it meant he was half in