Citizen Vince by Jess Walter

Author:Jess Walter
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins US
Published: 2005-07-12T04:00:00+00:00

GHOSTS EVERYWHERE. GHOULS, too. Skeletons. Cowboys and princesses and frogs and hobos and costumes that Dupree can’t quite make out, weird combinations of masks and capes and fake whiskers. Yoda and Darth Vader each grip a pillowcase. Detective Charles drives slowly down the street, packs of kids drifting in and out of his headlights. They troll a long, straight line of neat, two-story row houses, American flags jutting from half the stoops. “I forgot what day this is,” Dupree says. He finds it comforting that they have Halloween even in this upside-down place, where the cops drive around like drunken lunatics, stealing drugs and taking blow jobs. Other than the houses being right next to one another—not a yard in sight—Alan thinks he could be in Spokane; it returns his bearings a little.

Charles parks in front of a small brick building with a plywood sign reading LOCAL 4412. Above the door is another sign, for Jimmy Carter, and in the windows signs for a Newark City Council candidate named James Ray Burke. Charles climbs out of the car. “I’ll be right back.”

Dupree opens his mouth to protest, but Charles slams the door shut. He walks to the front of the building, tries the door, but it being Saturday, the door is locked. He walks around to the back, and after a moment Dupree hears a window smash. A few minutes later the Burke signs are yanked out of the windows. Charles comes out the front door, smiling, with the two Burke signs and a phone caddie open to a tabbed page. At the car he throws the signs in the backseat and puts the phone caddie in his lap, the tab slid open to the name Daryl Greene.

Dupree doesn’t say anything, just stares out the window.

Charles drives along the mowed curbs, reading addresses until he pulls up to a white house with red trim. He turns off the car, looks once more at the phone caddie, then tosses it in the backseat. He turns to Dupree. “Look. I know this ain’t exactly what you signed up for. I’m sorry if this seems”—he can’t find the word—“bad. But there’s more to it than you know. This is a very important investigation.” When Dupree doesn’t say anything he continues. “Anyway, I’m gonna take care of this little thing that Mike put me on and we’ll go find your guy. What’s his name?”

“Vince.”

“Right. Vince.” Detective Charles steps out of the car, then reaches back in and gets his jacket off of the backseat. He also grabs one of the Burke signs and a box of swag tennis shoes. At the curb he looks back once more at Dupree, smiles, then reaches in and—Alan is pretty sure of this—unbuckles the chest holster inside his jacket.

The name D Greene is painted on the mailbox. Two little pirates are on D Greene’s porch, having settled on the treat option. An old Scottish terrier sniffs them, then limps back and lies down on a blanket on the porch, emits a big dog sigh.

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