Part 15 (1/2)
The picker turned to look at him In proffle his jaw stuck out fro iron, and his flat-nosed face and sloping forehead slanted back at a thirty-degree angle
”Oh, that there chicken,” he said ”Well, suh, that there chicken belongs to Missus Klein”
”Why ain't it got a tag on it then?”
”Well, suh, she don't knohether she gonna take it or not She ain't co man said peevishly ”Get on with your work Just don't stand there--we got these orders to fill”
The picker turned and his arain to sing to hi just inside the doorway
Grave Digger gestured toward the door with his head Coffin Ed nodded They slipped out silently
Mr Goldstein deserted a custoh the front roo his hands with air ”He's a good worker and an honest man”
”Yeah, we noticed how ot in their car, drove two doors down the street, parked again and sat waiting
”I'll bet a pint of rye he gets it,” Grave Digger said
”hell, what kind of bet is that?” Coffin Ed replied ”That boy has stole so many chickens from those Goldsteins he's one quarter chicken hi without cracking the shell”
”Anye're going to soon see”
They almost missed him The picker left by the back door and came out into the street fro loose-fitting olive drab canvas ar at the bottoue cap worn backward, the visor hanging down the back of his neck In that getup his iron jaas h he had tried to s the pressing iron and it had sunk between his bottoton Avenue and started uptown, staggering slightly but careful not to bu the rhythh, clear notes
The detectives followed in their car When he turned east on 119th Street, they pulled ahead of hi his path
”What you got there, Iron Jaw?” Grave Digger asked Iron Jaw tried to get hies and had a tendency to look out froer's face they looked slightly crossed
”Why don't you folks leaveslightly ”I ain't done nothing”
Coffin Ed reached out quickly and pulled his jacket zipper open alleamed from a muscular hairless chest But, down near the stoan
The chicken lay cradled in the wars crossed peacefully like a corpse in a casket, and its head tucked out of sight underneath its outer wing
”What are you doing with that chicken then?” Coffin Ed asked ”Nursing it?”
Iron Jaw looked blank ”Chicken, suh What chicken?”
”Don't give me that cornfed Southern bull,” Coffin Ed warned hier reached doith his index finger and lifted the chicken's head fro
”This chicken, son”
The chicken cocked its head and gave the two detectives a startled look from one of its beady eyes, then it turned its head completely about and looked at them from its other eye
”Looks like er said
All of a sudden the chicken started squawking and flapping about, trying to get out of its nest
”Sounds like her, too,” Grave Digger added
The chicken got a footing on Iron Jaw's belly and fleard Grave Digger, flapping its wings and squawking furiously, as though it resented the reer speared at it with his left hand and caught hold of a wing
Iron Jaw pivoted on the balls of his feet and took off, running down the center of the street He earing dirty canvas rubber-soled sneakers, si like a black streak of light
Coffin Ed had his long barreled nickel-plated pistol in his hand before Iron Jaw had started to run, but he was laughing so hard he couldn't cry halt When he finally got his voice he yelled, ”Whoa, Billy-boy, or I'll blast you!” and fired three rapid shots into the sky
Grave Digger was hampered by the chicken and was late with his pistol, which was identical with Coffin Ed's Then he had to clip the chicken in the head to save it for evidence When he finally looked up he was just in ti Iron Jaw in the bottoht in the rubber sole of Iron Jaw's canvas sneaker and ripped it from his foot His foot sailed out fro the paveht he'd been shot
”They kilt me!” he cried ”The police has shot an to collect
Coffin Ed ca his pistol at his side, and looked at Iron Jaw's foot
”Get up,” he said, yanking him to his feet ”You haven't been scratched”
Iron Jaw tested his foot on the pavement and found that it didn't hurt
”I ued
”You're not shot anywhere,” Coffin Ed said, taking hi hiet away froer looked about at the curious people crowding about ”Right,” he said
They put lion Jaeen them on the front seat and the dead chicken on the back seat and drove east on 119th Street to a deserted pier on the East River
”We can get you thirty days in the cooler for chicken stealing or we can give you back your chicken and let you go hoan ”It just depends on you”
Iron Jaw looked slantwise from one detective to the other