Grief Street

though, and everybody knew it, even if they could not necessarily articulate it: Thornton was smarter than anybody in the room.
    So when he walked into class in his crisp linen blazer and creased chinos and buck shoes, nobody in the crowd of baggy pants and ripple-soled oxfords and sweat-stained shirts with clip-on neckties snorted or farted or belched, as had been the general greeting on day one. The hang-over ratio remained just as high, though.
    Professor Thornton, as per custom, marched first to the blackboard and chalked up the day’s lesson theme: IS IT PROGRESS IF A CANNIBAL USES KNIFE & FORK? He then stepped to the lectern and spread out some papers he lifted out from his attaché, after which he fumped the microphone several times.
    King Kong Kowalski leaned over and whispered into Harry Darcy’s ear, “Reminds me of these two cannibals eating a comedian for dinner one night; the one cannibal, he says to the other one, ‘This taste funny to you?’ ”
    “Very droll, Kowalski.”
    “I got a million.”
    “Swell.”
    “Two old pensioners in Miami Beach decide to shack up together. The woman, she asks the man, ‘Vot about de sex?’ The old guy shrugs, he says, ‘Infrequently.’ The old gal, she asks, ‘Is dot von vord or two?’ ”
    Fump... Fump... Fump...
    “Testing, testing...”
    “Joseph Kowalski?”
    “Present.”
    There was a smattering of careful laughter.
    “So I hear.” Thornton stepped from behind the lectern and walked slowly down through an aisle between chairs. He stopped at two chairs in the last row occupied by one man. “You’re a big fellow with big things on his mind. Sergeant King Kong Kowalski. Incidentally, I understand you don’t like that handle.”
    “Says who?”
    “Says you, Kowalski. You’re a big man with a big mouth.” Thornton pointed to Harry Darcy on the next chair while he said to Kowalski, “On the first day of our little seminar, I heard you object to Mr. Darcy here calling you ‘King Kong.’ From all the way up in the front of this room I heard you. That’s how big your mouth is, King Kong.”
    Before anyone could enjoy a laugh at Kowalski’s expense, even a careful one, Thornton whirled around and said, “Come on—speak up, men. Let’s hear how many more big gobs there are in class today. With enough of you present, I’ll know that I’ve failed to inspire the least appreciation for civility and that we’ll all just have to muddle through this whole exercise—from the top.”
    There was no sound.
    “Now then, Sergeant Kowalski... That is how you’d prefer to be addressed?”
    “Yeah.”
    “That would be ‘Yeah, sir. ’ ”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Better than I could have expected. Now then, Sergeant, as it has been observed, you’re fat. And, as I’ve noted, you’ve an oversized mouth, a truly tiresome feature. But sometimes—especially in fat men, I’ve found—a big mouth camouflages big ideas, or big problems. Which is it with you, Sergeant?”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”
    “Really?” Thornton turned from Kowalski to Darcy. “Officer Darcy, cast your mind back to our first day together, when Sergeant Kowalski threatened you after you called him King Kong.”
    “Well, sir, I don’t know...”
    “Please, don’t be insulting.” Thornton held up a hand, like a traffic cop. “I heard everything exchanged between you two. You thought it private, but I heard. About the departmental ‘custom’ of dealing with ‘rat bastards’ like this Detective Hockaday who’s been in the newspapers lately. I would consider that a threat, Officer Darcy.”
    “Well...”
    Thornton addressed the whole room again. “Wouldn’t every last man of you hear that as a threat—to Officer Darcy, or Detective Hockaday, or possibly both gentlemen?”
    A murmur of unanimous agreement.
    “Now then—you understand I have a keen sense of hearing, and a keen sense of interpreting what I hear,” Thornton said to Kowalski. “Should I go on talking about what I heard said between you and Officer Darcy?”
    “Hey, it’s your class.”
    “Yours as well, Sergeant. Now, you’ll remember that Officer Darcy cast aspersions as to your sexual preference?”
    “I don’t have to put up with this freaking crap!”
    “Sensitive on this point, are we—sweety?”
    “It ain’t like that!” Kowalski’s massive face and neck were shaking. “I’m telling you, it ain’t!”
    “Nonetheless, here you are—quaking with anger