At four-thirty the next afternoon I was leaning back in my chair. Another long day. I had had no trouble sleeping last night, though. Doc Yerrgsted, the Greek and I had sat in the booth for three hours after the bar had closed, drinking and talking. Doc had relived the days of his greatest glory. The Greek had remembered the evil time he once had getting started in the restaurant business because his English was poor. I remember Doc laughing until he cried because we could hardly understand the Greek now, twenty-four years later, when he tried to tell us about it.
The phone rang, ripping at exposed nerve ends left dangling from this morning’s hangover.
I grabbed up that receiver quickly—and was instantly afraid the caller might be Lupe. Girls can be hard to discourage.
“Homicide. Ballard.”
There was a slight pause, curiously dead at the other end of the line, as if whoever had called had simply ceased to exist. I heard nothing, not even breathing.
Then, a woman’s voice asked, “Mike? Mike Ballard?”
“Yes.”
“Mike—this is Carolyn.”
Like that. After seven years, the phone rings on the tail end of a misspent life and a voice says, Mike—this is Carolyn....
I pulled in a deep breath. “This is a surprise.”
“Is it, Mike?”
“What do you think? Why would you be calling Homicide?”
She laughed. “I used to think about calling you, Mike. A long time ago. Once in a while I’d get as far as the telephone. You know?”
“Yes. I’ve been that far myself.”
“It’s sweet of you to say so, Mike. We were very young—and very foolish, weren’t we?”
“Psycho.”
“How are you, Mike? I wanted you to stay for dinner the other day. I truly did. I was so afraid it would be awkward—and yet all the time I was looking forward to it.”
I made my voice laugh. “You always were a troublemaker.”
“Yes.... Jerry says to say hi. He’s sorry he tried to show off.”
“Jerry hasn’t changed much. Maybe he ought to stop feeling sorry.”
She laughed. “I guess he always wanted to beat you—beat the champ. Is there anything wrong with that?”
“That depends. Is he sore?”
“You mean angry with you? No. He’s always admired you, Mike. Even when he tried the hardest to put you down. But he was physically sore the other night—he ate dinner standing up. He says you haven’t changed, Mike. I’m glad about that”
I glanced about the office. There was the usual festering bustle—the average plainclothes bureau is a scab over a running sore of society. It didn’t seem real, talking to her from a place like this.
“Mike?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want to waste your time—”
“My God. After seven years? I’m glad you called.”
“It is important, Mike. It’s—about Tom.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry, Mike. Must you sound so—flat? Don’t hate Tom. He’s unbending, straitlaced. But he is a good man, Mike. He has a goodness of the kind that never gets in the newspapers.”
I put my foot against the desk, avoided kicking it. The breath was tight in my chest “Make no mistake, Carolyn. I never hated Tom Flynn.”
“But you won’t work for him.”
I let my foot slip off the desk, sat up straight. “Did he ask you to call me, Carolyn?”
“Of course not. He’d be furious if he knew I had called. But he’s desperate, Mike. Can I make you understand that? He’s a good man, up against something he can’t fight. He thinks you could. I don’t even understand all of it. I only know he needs you, Mike. Terribly.”
My hand tightened on the receiver. I could see Lupe Valdez’s tear-streaked face. I thought of Fred Carmichael, whose son had got her into trouble. What would Tom Flynn say if I brought some of the city’s filth right into his swimming pool? I’d had my share of trouble.
My hand sweated on that phone. I ached, wanting to replace the receiver, and break this connection, quick, clean and final. Mike Ballard had fought his battles, and had his scars to prove it. I had loved Carolyn seven years ago. But four years ago I had also loved a girl named Peggy. I was a wise, tired old bastard of thirty-three who wanted just one thing, to be allowed to drink with the Doc and the Greek, and never again have to look at tears.
“I’m sorry, Carolyn.”
“Tom’s been almost ill for weeks, Mike. He won’t talk to me about it. Isn’t there anything I can say to change your mind?”
“There isn’t.”
“Mike, I’ve always loved you. But I’d owe you everything if you would help him.”
I felt the sweat across my forehead. “Don’t do this, Carolyn. I don’t want you to beg. If I could help, I’d do it—for you. You wouldn’t even have to ask. But there’s nothing I can do.”
“Mike—I don’t know where to turn. I don’t know what to do. Can I come to see you, Mike? At your apartment?”
I replaced the receiver gently. I didn’t want to hear more.
Ernie Gault came over and sat on the corner of my desk. I looked up. He was grinning. His lean, dour face was exercising muscles long atrophied.
“You look like you just lost your last blonde,” Ernie said.
Coming from him, the words were crazy. I stared. Hell. Gault would pick this moment for levity.
“What’s eating you?” I asked.
He smiled again. If you’ve ever seen a bloodhound chewing briars, I don’t have to tell you what his smile looked like.
“Mike, you remember four years ago? Christmas?”
“No.”
“Sure you do. Grace was in the hospital. Female operation. Remember?” He glanced around to see if he were overheard, lowered his voice, flushing faintly. “Hysterectomy.”
“No.”
‘Aw, come on, Mike. I was up a stump. Borrowed from every bank, loan shark and credit union. You let me have a hundred bucks. If you hadn’t, those three kids of mine wouldn’t of had any Christmas at all that year. You told me I could pay it back any way I wanted to.”
“I also told you to forget it.”
“It’s been a long time, Mike. Four years. I’ve felt like a dog. Hell, I remember when you were shot after you cleaned out Luxtro, and were giving yourself up to the police. You called me to come and get you. I felt like hell, Mike. You’d been good to me and the kids and I had to turn you in. But like you told me that day, it was my job.”
“I remember what I really told you that day was you talk too much.”
He laughed again, an odd, unaccustomed sound and thrust his hand in his pocket. He brought out four crumpled five-dollar bills.
“Mike. This is from Grace and me. By God, this is from Grace and me and the kids. The last twenty bucks. Grace’s been saving dough out of her grocery allowance. I want to thank you, Mike, for being so damned patient with us.”
He thrust the crumpled bills out toward me and when I didn’t take them, he laid them out on my desk, smoothing them with his palm.
“We’re all even, Mike. And it only took four years. Go on, Mike. Take it. Grace’d flog me if you didn’t. You know you’re a hero to her. When you cleaned out the Luxtro mob, she wouldn’t even believe you’d ever been on the take—she wanted to go down and tear that hearing apart.”
I took the money, stuffed it in my jacket pocket. I had to shut him up somehow.
But not Ernie. “Hell, boy, this is just part of it. Grace says I got to bring you home to dinner tonight”
“I’m sorry. I’ve already got a date.”
“Some blonde? Break it”
“Blondes aren’t that plentiful any more.”
“Mike. Grace won’t take no for an answer. This is a big moment in the Gault house. Another debt paid off. She and the kids have planned a celebration.”