His shoes were shined and creaseless. New. He was wearing a wedding ring, and a gold watch was apparent at his wrist. He had close-cropped hair and was a little younger than me. Instead of a cop, he looked like a tax collector. He didn’t have the kind of face that made you feel either scared or comfortable. In fact, it made you feel like taking a wild swing at it just to get it out of sight.
The uniform opened the cell door, and the suit stepped in behind him with his hands in his pockets as if he were the coolest, most dangerous guy in the world.
“Get up,” said the uniform to the two other men.
They stood, and were forced to lean forward since they were cuffed to the wall.
Their cuffs were removed. The uniform then removed the cuffs from the rail and put them in his back pocket.
“Get out of here,” said the uniform. “Get your shit at the desk.”
They began to walk past the detective.
“Hey,” I said, “those pricks assaulted me. You’re letting them
go?”
“You gonna press charges?” asked the uniform. “You bet.”
“Too bad,” he replied.
I looked at Van Buren. His eyes smiled.
The two little fighters left the cell and disappeared down the hallway. The uniform turned to Van Buren and asked, “You need me here?”
“Of course not,” he replied in a calm voice. “We’re just going to talk. Isn’t that right, Mr. Higgins?”
“Sure,” I said.
The uniform left, and then it was just the detective and me. He came over and sat next to me on the bench, but not before methodically adjusting his pants around his thighs. “That’s quite a shiner,” he said, pointing at my face.
“I wouldn’t know,” I said.
“Are you in any pain?”
“Am I in any pain? Yes I am. I think I have a boo-boo or two.”
I laughed. He did not.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
“Can’t say that I do,” I said, “unless it’s become a crime in this country to get the shit kicked out of you.”
“No, it’s not a crime to be beaten, Mr. Higgins.”
“What’s with this ‘Mr. Higgins’ shit? You know my name. Use
it.”
“You are Mr. Higgins,” he replied. “That’s what I’ll call you. In return, you will call me Mr. Van Buren.”
The man never liked me since the first day we met at the supermarket.
There was this beautiful woman in the produce section, feeling up the pineapples, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She smiled at me. Then her husband got pissed off. That was Van Buren. I was never forgiven for that.
“Mr. Higgins, it is not a crime to be beaten, but this matter is not as simple as that. As you see, the two men who attacked you have been released. Everyone who was at the scene of your latest incident has stated that you were the one who instigated this fight, and it would seem like the only difference between this incident and those in your past is that you didn’t get your little fists up in time.”
“Are you trying to be cute with me?”
“No.”
“Can I have a cigarette?”
“No.”
“Instigating something is different from busting a stick off someone’s head, cop.”
“Maybe, but this is my investigation …”
“What investigation?”
“Quiet. It is my investigation, and such matters that you discuss are merely semantics in this case.”
“Semantics? What happened to my face is semantics?”
“It would seem.”
“I don’t think I like you.”
“And Evelyn doesn’t seem to like you, Mr. Higgins. You see, some people around here seem to have some memory lapses, but I know you, and I know what you’re capable of, and I know how violent you can be when you drink.”
“I didn’t drink.”
“Says you.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Didn’t you?” I didn’t say anything. “That’s what I thought. But I’ll be merciful tonight, Mr. Higgins. I’m going to let you go.”
“Well, in that case, you can go fuck yourself.” He laughed. “No, I won’t be doing that tonight.”
“Why, your wife ain’t gonna touch you.”
His eyes grew red with fire. He put his finger in my face and said, “You watch your mouth with me, you dirtbag.”
I lunged and bit his finger, to which he yelped and quickly drew away.
With the other hand, he slammed a fist into my jaw. I winced, and he grabbed a fistful of my hair. “You bastard,” he said.
“You’re going to go down for what you did, you hear me? I know exactly what …”
Just then, the uniform appeared in the doorway, and said, “Everything okay in here?”
Van Buren sat up and backed away from me, said, “Yes. We were just having a chat. Weren’t we, Mr. Higgins?”
“Yup,” I mumbled.
“I don’t think Mr. Higgins is ready to go just yet. Why don’t we keep him till five or so. Then, make sure he gets home okay,” said Van Buren.
“You got it,” said the cop.
“Give him the whole nine yards.”
“You got it,” said the uniform.
Van Buren stalked out, but not before turning to me and saying, “We have an honest-to-God killer running around this town, Mr. Higgins. Big news. But don’t forget. I’ve got my eye on you.”
Then he was gone.
At five o’clock in the morning, the uniformed cop came to the cell door and unlocked it. He told me to stand, and then he undid the cuffs. He perp-walked me over to the desk, gave me back my stuff, and took me out to the parking lot.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked the cop.
“Home,” he said.
“I can walk.”
“Not in your condition. Get in the car.”
A black-and-white had pulled up to us. Inside were two young cops. He opened the back door.
“Watch your head,” he said.
Not a word was said the whole ride home. When they got to my block, they flashed the lights and sirens and came to a stop outside my home. Everyone was sleeping, but because of the ruckus, lights went on and people came to their windows to see what was going on.
This was a blatant tactic by the police to embarrass me and discredit me in the eyes of my neighbors. I didn’t appreciate it, but the two punks driving the car weren’t paid to be the sensitive ones to my situation.
I got out and walked to my front door quickly, dizzied by the fight and the blue and red lights bouncing off the front of my house.
The door locked automatically behind me once it closed. At that point, the lights and sirens stopped, and the police car disappeared in the dark.
Van Buren had it in for me. I couldn’t imagine it was because he still held a grudge about his wife digging the way I look in a pair of jeans. It had to be something else, but I didn’t necessarily want to stick around to figure out what it was.
The cruelty of all this was that I hadn’t even had the chance to have a drink before I got in a bar fight. I could have taken that as a sign that I shouldn’t be hitting the sauce again, but I’m nothing if not tenacious.
EIGHTEEN
I got out of the shower and combed my hair back in front of the mirror. All in all I didn’t look that bad. One of my eyes was a little puffy, like it was a little more tired than the other, and there was a cut at my hairline.
Instead of putting myself through the trouble of having to sit down and get back up, I decided to instead make my morning pot of coffee and get ready for work.