Fall Guy

doll?“
    „If you feed a dog from the table, say, but just once in a while, not every meal, he'll beg even harder than the dog who always gets a taste of your dinner. He'll...“
    „He'll know it's possible. That's a powerful narcotic, knowing that.“
    „Exactly.“
    „Still, people get depressed.'
    „They do.“
    „Then what makes you think Tim just didn't get depressed?“
    „The way I met him.“
    „Which was?“
    „After 9/11. There was a post-traumatic-stress group for men at the church on West Eleventh Street. I was there with Dashiell, to help the men loosen up.“
    „And Tim?“
    „Was there. But didn't.“
    „And you conclude what from this?“
    „He wasn't there because of 9/11. He hadn't lost anyone, had he?“
    „Not that I know of.“
    „That's what I thought. Of course, you didn't have to. There were other reasons to be there. Lots of people were scared and stressed and needed some kind of help after the attack—counseling, or anti-anxiety medication. He had every right to be there.“
    „And?“
    „I think he was there, I think he did things like this, whatever he could, to help himself ...“ I stopped to search for the right word.
    „Survive,“ he said. „That's your theory?“
    I nodded.
    He banged the table with one hand. „It's a good one, doll. I like the way you think.“
    I checked my watch. There was still plenty of time, and time with Irwin was what I wanted. It was what I believed would get me what I was after.
    „Let's suppose you're right,“ he said. „And let's suppose I'm right.“
    „Meaning?“
    „Meaning Tim didn't kill himself. Someone else did. But not Parker. Then the question is who?“
    „A better question might be why.“
    „Because if we knew why ...“
    „We'd know who.“
    Irwin scooted back on his chair, reaching into his shirt pocket for a cigarette.
    „Allow me,“ I said, sliding the dish with the matchbooks closer. I remembered all the match-books I'd pulled out of Parker's pockets, one from every place he'd been, I thought. If something was free, why not take it. If it wasn't free, why not steal it. I looked down at the dish, at the matchbooks. One from Hell. One from the White Horse. Matches from the Cubby Hole, the Blind Tiger, Hogs and Heifers. Six or seven others. One more interesting than the rest. I picked that one up, bent back the cover, took a match and lit it. I leaned toward Irwin, holding the flame to the tip of his cigarette.
    „You're not going to tell me I'll stunt my growth, are you?“
    Holding the matchbook in my hand, I smiled at him, the big one, the toothy one, the one I hoped would keep him talking. He smiled back, inhaling deeply, blowing the smoke up toward the ceiling.
    „Could have been anyone, you know,“ he said. „You make the mistake of talking to Parker in a bar, you're going to hear his life story.“
    „You're saying he's friendly?“
    „I'm saying he never knows when to shut up. He has no idea what's appropriate and what isn't. He has no sense of other people's privacy. That's what I'm saying. If anyone would listen, he'd tell them everything he knew about Tim. He'd invite them over for free drinks. It made him a hero, a big shot. He liked that.“
    „Where do you think he is now?“
    „With the cops looking for h im ? Not anywhere near here. He's gone. He had some money. Whatever his aunt had lying around, pfft.“
    „Cash?“
    „That's a no-brainer.“
    „Jewelry?“
    „Gone. She had a lot of jewelry, too. Some really good stuff. He could be in California now. Or Florida. It's off-season, cheap fares. He could be snorkeling in the Keys, looking for a sucker in that bar where Hemingway supposedly hung out.“
    „Wouldn't the cops be checking with the airlines?“
    „The cops!“ He snorted. „Under what name? These guys“—he swirled one hand in a circle, indicating the seats around his poker table— „they've got no end of names, ID to go with them. They change names like other people change underwear.“
    „Why do you hang out with them, Irwin?“
    It was a rude question. I knew it as I asked. There was so much more to him than to someone like Parker. So much less, too. Before he spoke, I had the feeling I knew just what he was going to say, not the details, maybe, but the crux of it. I could have said it for him.
    He pushed himself away from the table and jumped down to the floor. The pillow slid off the chair and landed somewhere next to him.
    „There's a convention once a