The Rat on Fire by Higgins George V

Author:Higgins, George V. [Higgins, George V.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crime, thriller, Mystery
ISBN: 9780307947253
Amazon: 0307947254
Goodreads: 11676058
Publisher: Vintage Crime/Black Lizard
Published: 1981-02-12T08:00:00+00:00

“WHERE THE FUCK is Sweeney?” Roscommon said.

“Lieutenant,” Carbone said, “you have got to stop coming into the office like this and getting your bowels in an uproar. You don’t and the first thing you know, you will have a stroke for yourself and the left side of your face’ll fall down, so’s you’ll only be able to maneuver the right side and you’ll look like something just about half finished.”

“Shut up,” Roscommon said.

“You’ll lose control of yourself,” Carbone said. “You’ll piss in your pants all the time and when you talk it’ll sound like you had a mouthful of spit. And you would have, too, if you could only stop drooling and slobbering all the time, so it runs right down your chin and into your shirt pocket. Get your undershirt all wet.”

“Where the fuck is Sweeney?” Roscommon said.

“Sweeney is at home and Sweeney is in bed,” Carbone said. “He’s been carrying one of those summer colds around with him for about a month now, and it finally took him out.”

“He’s dogging it,” Roscommon said.

“He’s not dogging it,” Carbone said. “He’s got a temperature and he’s got a fever and he’s got the trots. He’s dizzy and his body aches. You keep him out till four in the morning, four or five nights a week, following that jerk Malatesta around, and he finally got so run-down he collapsed from it.”

“You’re supposedly doing the same thing,” Roscommon said. “He’s doing it, you’re doing it. He’s sick, you’re not sick. How’d that happen?”

“Told you and told you, Lieutenant,” Carbone said, “us dagos’re tough.”

“Too dumb to get sick and lie down, most likely,” Roscommon said.

“Too proud,” Carbone said.

“Uh-huh,” Roscommon said. “Okay, enough of this shit. You guys had close to a month. Have you got something for me, maybe, I can take over and tell Mooney and get that little shitbird back in his nest without listening to another fucking lecture about the law enforcement responsibility to society? Please? Tell me you got something, Don. Tell me I’m not a total failure and I’m doomed to Purgatory.”

“We haven’t got a hell of a lot,” Carbone said.

“Grand,” Roscommon said.

Carbone reached into his jacket pocket and took out a steno pad, spiral-bound at the top. “I haven’t had a chance to dictate this stuff yet. Some of it’s mine and some of it’s what Mickey told me on the phone that he’s been doing.”

“No reports, then,” Roscommon said.

“Not typed, Lieutenant,” Carbone said.

“Go ahead,” Roscommon said. “I wish I’d stayed in the Airborne. I could be retired by now.”

“First,” Carbone said, “what Mickey’s getting. Near as we can tell, Jimma Dannaher thinks his feet are wet and he’s telling people that they’re starting to get cold. He’s not exactly saying that, but he’s been doing a lot of work on his thirst in a couple bars down on Old Colony Boulevard and Broadway, and Jimma can’t drink so well.”

“Which bars,” Roscommon said.

“Dunno,” Carbone said. “Mickey just sort of rattled this stuff off at me and he sounded awful, so I didn’t ask a whole lot of questions.

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