Blarney by Steve Hockensmith

Author:Steve Hockensmith
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: short stories, funny stories, detective stories, mystery stories
Publisher: Steve Hockensmith

Erie didn't have to get out of his car and flag down Hal Allen. He didn't even have to watch for his old boss too closely. He simply parked across the street from Allen's house and waited.

Allen had been doing his police work from behind a desk for almost a decade, but he'd still have the eye. Without even trying to, without even wanting to, he would notice something different in his neighborhood—something like a man sitting in an unfamiliar car in the dusky gloom alone.

Allen pulled into his driveway a little before seven. Erie watched him get out of his car, walk around to the back, pretend to look for something in the trunk. He was trying to get a better look at the strange car across the street.

Erie brought up his right hand, the back of the hand to Allen, and curled his fingers twice—the international gesture for "come 'ere."

Allen's eye was sharp indeed. He slammed the trunk closed and walked over to Erie's car. Erie rolled down his window. Neither man spoke until Allen was just a few feet from the car.

"Larry. It's you. Hi." Allen's expression was pleasant, his voice soft. But something underneath was neither. "Sorry I haven't gotten back to you. You wouldn't believe how crazy things have been downtown the last few days."

"Maybe I would."

Allen tried to give him a puzzled look, as if he had no idea what Erie was taking about. Erie didn't buy it. Allen wasn't a game player by nature. It was one of the reasons Erie liked him.

"Come on, Hal. Let's not B.S. each other. I want talk to you about this case of mine."

Allen smiled quizzically. "What? The dog thing?"

His acting wasn't getting any better.

"You know it's 'the dog thing.' Just get in the car and talk to me about it for five minutes. That's all I'm asking."

Allen acknowledged defeat with a sigh, then walked around the car to the passenger door. It was already unlocked. He slid in next to Erie.

"Listen, Larry," he said, "everyone was hoping this conversation wouldn't have to happen. And as far as the rest of the world is concerned, it didn't. Do you understand?"

"Of course, Hal. I'm not trying to get anyone in trouble here. I just want to know why you guys are acting like these nickel-and-dime bunchers shot Kennedy or something."

"Don't 'you guys' me on this, Larry. This isn't Homicide's show. It's Special Investigations in the hot seat."

Erie groaned. "Oh, geez. Is that what this is about? Politics? Did I embarrass somebody in S.I. by doing his job for him?"

"Yeah, it's politics. But not inside the department. It's bigger than that."

Erie was getting wound up, ready to rail about egos and petty rivalries in the RCPD, when Allen's words sunk in.

"Bigger? Over a couple redneck psychos? How could they have any political juice?"

"They don't. They don't need any."

Erie frowned. "I don't get it."

Allen stared out the window, obviously debating whether to go on or simply go.

"You might as well tell me, Hal.

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