Dark Maze

know, advertisements in calcimine paint on the window glass? Also he passes out palm cards for a strip joint in Times Square called the Horny Poodle.”
    “Well, hey, a guy’s got to eat,” Logue said, laughing. “So, where to first?”
    “I guess the bodega. You can leave me there and I’ll go on to the Horny Poodle. Hell’s Kitchen—Tenth Avenue and Forty-fifth.”
    We were out the front door and down the stoop and almost inside of Logue’s Buick when I heard my name called. I turned and saw Captain Mogaill’s sturdy silhouette in the door at the top of the stoop.
    “Yeah, you, Hockaday. Come on up here, I got something for you,” Mogaill yelled down to us at the curb.
    “Suppose I ought to wait?” Logue asked me.
    Mogaill answered before I could. “Logue, you can go on home.”
    “Okay, captain.” Logue shrugged, got into his car and drove off. I walked up the steps to Mogaill.
    “I got a message,” Mogaill said. Then he shook his hand like it was burning and added, “Here comes those big black headlines.”
    “What are you trying to say, Davy?“
    “I just got done talking to your boss and he’s on his way down here now—from Grade Mansion, where he’s been having a little chat with the mayor.”
    “I’m supposed to hang tight for Inspector Neglio?“
    “Exactly so. And by the by, guess who also had a small word with me?”
    “I said, I don’t like to guess.”
    “Oh yeah, that’s right. So there was I, having a talk with the inspector when himself the lord mayor comes on the blower. The mayor informs me that Central Homicide is now at your disposal in this Bellevue matter. It seems the inspector has sold you to Hizzonor as the department’s leading expert on footloose maniacs.”
    “I wonder if I should be flattered.”
    “Wonder as you will, Hock. Me, I’m wondering about packing it in right here and tonight. I could file the resignation form and in three short weeks be collecting half my captain’s pay for all the rest of my days, please God, right and regular, in the mail.”
    I commiserated, and honestly so. “I think about that myself.”
    “I am not so old I cannot take a proper order, you understand.”
    “No, I know... ”
    “It’s the bloody arrogance, and the presumption, and the flamin’ politics!” Mogaill laced his fingers behind his neck and cracked his knuckles. This relaxed him some. “You’d best cut me off, or else I’ll be going on about these stinking politics.”
    “If it makes you feel any better, I think the situation stinks, too.”
    “Thank you for that, Hock. Jaysus but I could use a drink! We should have that jar together this very night. But you’ve got your orders, haven’t you now? And I mine.”
    “Tonight, yes.”
    “Pity on us.”
    “Another time, Davy. And soon if you like. We’ll make it Nugent’s, for auld lang syne.”
    “Nugent’s—God, yes, that’s the place for us.”
    “For now then, Captain, sleep easy. I won’t be pushing it.”
    “No, you won’t. Not even you, my friend. The mayor and all of them be fooked. I’ll see to it there’s fair play!“
    “Right enough. I’ll only work through Logue for now, to keep the waves low.”
    “All right, then. I’ll be saying good night to you, and safe home.”
    He turned, leaving me to wait for Inspector Neglio.
    I watched the broad back of Davy Mogaill as he plodded through his fiefdom of zeroes, toward his hard-won command office, and his bottle.
    “Do you suppose this psycho actually expected to sell the painting?” Neglio stared at the Polaroid I had given him. “I mean, what in hell’s the chance of this kind of garbage ever hanging up over somebody’s sofa?”
    We were riding uptown in the back of Neglio’s armored black Chrysler sedan, a car from the headquarters brass fleet. Up front at the wheel there was a beefy young cop with oiled red hair packed into a shiny suit. A thin shaft of light from the rear seat limousine lamp poured over Neglio’s satin lapels. He looked even slimmer than usual in his tuxedo. I noticed a button missing on my shirt cuff. It had begun to rain.
    “He’s not making a living off his paintings,” I said. Neglio kept staring at the Polaroid. “But it’s no hobby either.“
    “Oh? No shit, Sherlock.” Neglio laughed at his joke. The shiny suit laughed, too. “But you know what I see in this?“
    “What?”
    “Opportunity.”
    “You sound like you’ve been watching those insomniac shows on cable where you send in