“Yeah, it was made to look like a robbery, but I’m not buying it.”
“Did you go to the scene?”
“I got a heads-up from one of the guys downtown. I went into the station after our meeting, just to ask a couple of the old timers if they knew anything about the guys on our list. I didn’t get much. When the call came in, my buddy gave me a ring.”
“So tell me what happened.”
“There wasn’t any sign of forced entry, so he must have let him in.”
“Him? You know it was a guy?”
“Well, I guess I can’t say for sure, but there were footprints in the blood. It looked like a man’s shoe. I guess it could have been a woman wearing it. I shouldn’t assume.”
“Don’t worry about it…first day on the job.”
Mike gave a snort. “It appears he was hit with a pipe or a bat, though I suspect the pipe is more likely, as Mr. Brown might not have opened the door to someone with a baseball bat. Again, it is an assumption, but I suspect it was something smaller he, or she, might carry under their coat.”
“That is good reasoning, Mike. I agree.”
“The thing is, Henry, we have another issue. The captain got word I was poking around. He knows why I took my vacation. He didn’t mind before, but now I show up with a list of names, and a few hours later, one of them is dead. He wants to see you down at the precinct…immediately. Correction, he wants to see us immediately.”
Henry thought for a moment and decided it would be best to get it out of the way. “I’ll be right down.”
Celine was enjoying a bagel when Henry finished with the call.
“I have to go down to talk with Mike’s boss. I don’t know when I will be back. It may be a while.” Henry took two cards out of his wallet. “I may call later; if I do, this is a bail bondsman, and the other is my attorney.”
Celine did not like the sound of that. “What happened?” she said, sounding shocked.
“One of the guys we’ve been looking into got his head bashed in. I’m not sure when it happened. Depending on the time, I may or may not have an alibi, and if I don’t, I may need to have you make some calls.”
“I will bust you out of the hoosegow myself.”
Henry smiled. “Just make the calls.” He was just about out the door. “Oh, I have one more guy who is going to do some poking around. His name is Bobby; he is just down the hall.”
“I’ve met Bobby. He is adorable…and chatty.”
“Good. I’ll tell him that he may use my office to make calls, if he wants to. I suspect many of his contacts are long distance.”
“I understand, Boss.”
Henry stopped in to see Bobby, told him the score, and asked if he wouldn’t mind hanging out in his office. Bobby was thrilled. He grabbed an armful of old books and scampered down the hall. Henry went to find a cab.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Henry wasn't anxious to meet the captain. He knew how it would go: there would be some yelling, a bit of intimidation, and a feeble attempt to get Henry to share what he knew. The captain would expect Henry to deny knowing anything. Mickey always said, "Don't let the good guys get in the way of stopping the bad guys." It had never made any sense to Henry, as their cases rarely were about “stopping the bad guys,” unless one counted a guy stepping out on his wife. Henry prepared for the worst.
Mike arrived just as Henry’s cab was letting him off at the curb.
“Hey, Mike. Sorry if I've gotten you in hot water.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. Everyone wants to get the scumbag that ran down Mickey, even the captain.”
Henry and Mike walked through the precinct. They shook some hands and talked with a few of the guys. The general feeling among the men in blue was positive. Henry was doing God’s work.
They closed the door, and the captain motioned for them to take a seat. He started to talk, but stopped, pacing behind his desk. Then he took a full yelling breath and clinched his jaw…but no yelling came forth. He sat down and leaned forward on his desk. Henry and Mike didn’t say a thing.
“When I was a rookie, I wasn’t doing so well. I walked in on a guy holding up a liquor store and froze, and he ran out the back. I chased him, but slipped on some garbage in the alley, and knocked myself out. Two weeks later, the same guy…he got away again. I was the laughing stock of the precinct. My old man was a cop, died on the job in July 1919. I couldn’t get the thought that he was up in heaven, shaking his head in disgust, out of my mind. Even back in the day, The Dublin Rogue was a cop bar, and that's where I met Mickey. I was wallowing in self pity, drinking myself blind. He listened.”