In the Midst of Death

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In the Midst of Death Page 23

by Lawrence Block

Page 23

 

  "Thats right, Matt. According to the report I saw. "

  "He walked out the door and a late-model car pulled up at the curb and somebody gave him both barrels of a sawed-off shotgun. A school kid said the man with the gun was white but didnt know about the man in the car, the driver. "

  "Thats right. "

  "One mans white and the cars described as blue and the gun was left at the scene. No prints, I dont suppose. "

  "Probably not. "

  "No way to trace the sawed-off, I dont guess. "

  "I havent heard, but- "

  "But there wont be any way to trace it. "

  "Doesnt figure to be. "

  Trina brought the drinks. I picked mine up and said, "Absent friends, Eddie. "

  "Sure thing. "

  "He wasnt your friend, and though you may not believe it, he was less my friend than yours, but thats how well drink the toast, to absent friends. I drank your toast the way you wanted it, so you can drink mine. "

  "Whatever you say. "

  "Absent friends," I said.

  We drank. The booze seemed to have more of a punch after a few days of taking it easy. I certainly hadnt lost my taste for it, though. It went down nice and easy and made me vitally aware of just who I was.

  I said, "You figure theyll ever find out who did it?"

  "Want a straight answer?"

  "Do you think I want you to lie to me?"

  "No, I dont figure that. "

  "So?"

  "I dont suppose theyll ever find out who did it, Matt. "

  "Will they try?"

  "I dont think so. "

  "Would you, if it were your case?"

  He looked at me. "Well, Ill be perfectly honest with you," he said after a moments thought. "I dont know. Id like to think Id try. I think some- I think, fuck it, I think a couple of our own must of done it. What the hell else can you think, right?"

  "Right. "

  "Whoever did it was a fucking idiot. An absolute fucking idiot who just did the department more harm than Broadfield could ever hope to do. Whoever did it ought to hang by the neck, and I like to think Id go after the bastards with everything I had if it was my case. " He lowered his eyes. "But to be honest, I dont know if I would. I think Id go through the motions and sweep it under the rug. "

  "And thats what theyll do out in Queens. "

  "I didnt talk to them. I dont know for a fact thats what theyll do. But Id be surprised if they did anything else, and so would you. "

  "Uh-huh. "

  "What are you going to do, Matt?"

  "Me?" I stared at him. "Me? What should I do?"

  "I mean, are you going to try and go after them? Because I dont know if its a good idea. "

  "Why should I do that, Eddie?" I spread my hands palms up. "Hes not my cousin. And nobodys hiring me to find out who killed him. "

  "Is that straight?"

  "Its straight. "

  "Youre hard to figure. I think I got you pegged, and then I dont. " He stood up and put some money on the table. "Let me buy that round," he said.

  "Stick around, Eddie. Have another drink. "

  He hadnt done more than touch the one hed had. "No time," he said. "Matt, you dont have to crawl into the bottle just because of this. It doesnt change anything. "

  "It doesnt?"

  "Hell, no. You still got a life of your own. You got this woman youre seeing, you got- "

  "No. "

  "Huh?"

  "Maybe Ill see her again. I dont know. Probably not. She could have called by this time. And after it happened, you would think shed have called if it was real. "

  "I dont follow you. "

  But I wasnt talking to him. "We were in the right place at the right time," I went on. "So it looked as though we might turn out to be important for each other. If it ever had a chance, Id say the chance died this morning when the gun went off. "

  "Matt, youre not making sense. "

  "It makes sense to me. Maybe thats my fault. We might see each other again, I dont know. But whether we do or dont, its not going to change anything. People dont get to change things. Things change people once in a while, but people dont change things. "

  "I gotta go, Matt. Take it a little easy on the booze, huh?"

  "Sure, Eddie. "

  SOMETIME that night I dialed her number in Forest Hills. The phone rang a dozen times before I gave up and got my dime back.

  I called another number. A leftover voice recited, "Seven-two-five-five. I am sorry, but no one is at home at the moment. If you will leave your name and number at the sound of the tone, your call will be returned as soon as possible. Thank you. "

  The tone sounded, and it was my turn. But I couldnt seem to think of anything to say.

 



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