Part 39 (1/2)
”Nope. It just scares the h.e.l.l out of me that I might have a genetic predisposition to go down the same road. I'd like to avoid that if possible.”
”Well, give yourself a pa.s.s on this one, partner. Did it for the greater good. We nail Dylan O'Grady's a.s.s to the wall, it'll wash away all sins.” She gave Stacy a rough one-arm hug and pushed her toward the kitchen. ”Make coffee.”
”Place stinks.”
”That's Dylan,” said Adele.
(unintelligible) ”You know that? Stinks? Like rotten marmalade.”
”Kid won't wash up.”
”What kid? He's over forty! Jesus! Your legs broken? You can't turn on the hot water tap? Have a little respect for yourself.”
”Make an appointment; I'll get a Molly Maid.”
”That's Louie?” Stacy asked.
”Probably.”
”Never any place to sit around here.”
”Move some stuff.”
”No place to sit, nothing to eat or drink. You run a cla.s.s operation.”
”You want food, look in the fridge.”
”Have you looked in your fridge, Louie?”
”There we go. It's him.”
”You know what's in there? You've got creatures living in the pork fried rice.”
(long break in conversation, sounds of things being moved, dropped to the floor, television turned on, Jeopardy audible in the background) ”Jeopardy. 7:30 to 8,” Stacy said. ”We might get the date from the episode.”
”Yeah right: when did they ask the two-hundred-dollar question about Nairobi?”
”No. Seriously. That's the College Champions.h.i.+p. You could track it down.”
”You watch that show? Probably get all the answers, don't you?”
”Mostly.”
(long silence) ”What the h.e.l.l are they doing?”
”Watching Alex Trebek.”
”f.u.c.k, how many hours of this we have to wade through?”
”You had a visitor, last week.”
”Here we go.”
”Yeah, it's a store. People come in.”
”You had a visitor up here.” (chair being moved) ”My partner dropped by for a chat, didn't he?”
”Whoa. This is at least seven years ago,” Adele said. ”Dylan's still a cop.”
”You got this place under surveillance now?”
”No. He told me. We're partners. We share information.”
”Sure you do.”
”Says he came by to ask about a p.a.w.n ticket from a crime scene. p.a.w.n ticket for gold badge or something.”
”Oh yeah.”
”Well?”
”What about it? I didn't have it. I said I didn't know what he was talking about. I said check my records.”
”Did he?”
”He looked. What's he gonna find?”
”Listen close. He had a p.a.w.n ticket. It had your name on it. It had a date on it. You lent that Abramov s.h.i.+t twenty bucks for a piece of jewellery.”
”Va.s.sili.” Stacy was making notes.
”That thing. Wasn't jewellery, a little badge or something.”
”What happened to it?”
”He came around later, said he wanted to sell it outright. I gave him another twenty.”
”So where is it?”
”It's nothing to do with your thing.”
”Where is it?”
”It's safe. It's put away.”
”One more time. Where. Is. It?”