Remarkably, the next morning I awoke refreshed, invigorated, with no trace of a headache. I perc’d a pot of coffee and sat down for a long read of the sports section. And kept right on reading until I finally began to think. Unfortunately, sometimes to think is to do.

I was off my ass but I sure wasn’t gonna roar. Squeak was about all I could muster; still, squeak was better than mute. I called my favorite short-order cook and cop conduit, Phil, and asked whether he could set up a meet between me and Washington Clifford. It bothered me that Biancho had found his way to my “babysitter.” I hoped a preemptive chat might keep Washington from finding his usual way to me. On the other hand, I wasn’t particularly pleased when Phil called back and rushed me over for a late breakfast.

One delicious plus about eating at Charley’s was the decor. My kind of taste: wooden counter, enamel topped tables, faceted glass sugar dispensers with silver peaked tops. The chi-chi cafes stole his business, but everything in Charley’s was original down to the thick, chipped china. Got me wondering what Lauren was doing eating here.

“Where’s Red?” I asked walking through the door into the empty diner. Charley’s used to be a place where social workers and cops mingled without much hostility. But the city, with its infinite wisdom and outstretched hands, had cleaned up the neighborhood and homophobia scared both groups away.

Phil hung tough. Didn’t have many customers, but apparently socked enough away during the boom years to stay afloat and attract a waitress who strolled into the new century right out of the fifties. Red was the entire package—white uniform, pointed bras, bright vermilion lipstick, an ageless figure and face. Phil and Red lived together in a small apartment above the restaurant. Maybe Red was afraid of Clifford too.

“Visiting her folks.”

“Somebody sick?” I asked sympathetically, though butterflies were already fluttering about my impending face-to-face with Clifford.

Phil turned his back from the grill and looked across the counter. “Went to tell them she’s through living in sin.”

“You’re breaking up?” Despite their constant bickering I’d always believed Phil and Red were fused at the hip.

“Nah. I’m not getting any better looking so I figure it’s time to settle down. Gonna pull the trigger, get married.”

Everywhere I fucking looked. And it was almost autumn, not spring. All I needed was Julius to break in wearing a tux. “Congratulations. Church?”

“Government Center. They can flatten the place with as many plazas as they like, it’s still Scully Square. And City Hall is still the biggest brothel in town. Seems right for us. You eating?”

“No. I learned to stay away from Clifford when I have a full stomach. Wouldn’t want to mess your floor.”

Phil shook his head. “He’s not gonna slap you around.”

“I’ll believe that after he’s gone.”

“What’s your worry? You’re bigger than him.”

“Taller isn’t bigger plus he’s twice as tough.”

Phil lost his smile the moment the door creaked behind me.

“You wanna use the upstairs?” he asked as Clifford’s shoes jackhammered toward my back.

“Hell no. And don’t you disappear on me either.”

Phil rolled his eyes and turned back to his grill as I spun my stool to face the Black Brick Shithouse. He hadn’t lost any muscle since our last rendezvous. He had, however, shaved his head.

“Styling?” I cracked, unable to quiet my anxiety.

Clifford stood very still before answering. “Nothing worse than a half bald nigger unless you include a leftover stoner playing shamus. Ain’t that right, Jacobs?” he asked setting his rock hard butt down on the stool next to mine.

“Without the ‘s,’” I said spinning back toward the counter.

Clifford ignored me and spoke to Phil. “Eggs over easy and I want extra ham. Skip the home fries but throw in a large glass of iced coffee, no sugar, no milk, no wait. Jacobs here works for himself so everything goes on his bill.”

Phil looked at me. I nodded and said, “Just water.” I glanced at Clifford. “I do a lot of pro bono.”

“Beats working the malls, don’t it? Nice you got those buildings to fall back on.”

Right, Tycoon Matt. The room grew silent except for the sizzle on the grill and the tinkling of the coffee’s ice-cubes. And stayed that way until Phil placed a mountain of thick ham capped with a couple of eggs in front of Clifford and retreated to the sink at the far end of the counter. I wondered if Washington was going to use a fork.

He did, stabbing the eggs, and we both watched the yolk slowly slide down the mountain. What the fuck had I been thinking when I called Phil?

“Order your own,” Clifford said, misreading my stare.

“Don’t worry, I’m not hungry.”

“You look hungry,” he said after a couple of large forkfuls. “Why do you want to see me, Jacobs?”

Good question. “Just to talk.”

“Then talk,” Clifford commanded after razing more of the mountain.

“I was surprised when Chief Biancho said Downtown had passed me off to you. Something about “babysitting.”

Clifford stopped chewing long enough to flash a dirty smile. “Cops have a way with words, don’t they?”

I watched Washington’s large hand circle the heavy glass of iced coffee. “When they use ‘em.”

Clifford signaled for more coffee. “You understand this guy, Phil?” he asked while Phil was pouring. “A private dick who hates cops. The rest of those scumbags spend their lives swearing we’re in this together, but this one runs the other way. You get it?”

“Maybe he’s just more honest. Or maybe it’s a Commie thing.” Phil smiled before moving out of earshot.

Clifford’s laughter filled the room. “Scared, Phil. He’s more scared than the rest of ‘em. Ain’t that it, Jacobs?” His laughter was gone, nasty taking its place.

“Maybe so Boss, but all that extra attention surprised me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Keeping an eye on you is like watching a three-toed sloth. Anyway, people appreciate how much I like to know what you’re doing.” Clifford pointedly polished off the rest of his meal in silence, but I knew he wasn’t waiting for me to speak.

I sipped at my water trying to wet my parched mouth. I knew he wasn’t going to hit me here, but just his mere presence recalled prior beatings. Unfortunately, the water didn’t work so I gave up and lit a cigarette.

“Can’t you see I’m still eating?” Clifford suddenly snarled. “And you’re not supposed to smoke in restaurants. Can’t you do anything right?”

“Sorry,” I said, stubbing the cigarette into the ashtray.

“Well, too late now, asshole. I can’t eat with that shit in the air.” He pushed his empty plate away, rubbed his bald head, then shook a smoke out of my pack. “Can’t fight ‘em, join ‘em,” he said lighting up. “Something you never seem to learn.”

I held my temper, reminding myself I’d asked for this meet as I lit a fresh cigarette. “So what are they paying babysitters these days, Washington?” I just couldn’t help it.

Clifford shot me a humorless grin. “I like you so much I do it for free. You’ve been useful every once in a while. But useful stops at the city’s limits. You’re straying a little far from your dope dealer these days, aren’t you?”

Clifford despised Julius. Never busted him, though. Maybe Wash was waiting for the day he could use him.

“Family business, that’s all. Checking out my father-in-law’s new girlfriend. Just wanted you to know so there’d be no misunderstanding. I figure better tell you myself.”

Clifford dropped his cigarette into the ashtray without putting it out and spun off stool. “I appreciate your attitude, Jacobs. I spoke to Biancho and he wants you to make yourself scarce. I like him better than I like you. You understand me?”

I nodded.

“Then I don’t expect we need any more talk, do we?”

“No, I guess not.”

Clifford nodded and gracefully marched his thick, muscular body toward the door. “Stay out of burbs, shamus. As you now know, I have some friends there.”

“Don’t worry,” I said to his broad back. “And by the way, bald is beautiful.”

If he heard me he didn’t show it, just walked out the door letting it slam behind. I breathed a sigh of liberated relief, cursed at myself for my last remark, and suddenly felt ravenous. “Phil, I’m fucking starving. Could you make mine the same as his?”