Shallow Graves

of the head.
    “Sinead?“
    She drew her knees up to her chest, embracing them the way a track star does on a cold day.
    “Sinead, I’m trying to find out who killed your friend.“
    “My life’s got nothing to do with that. My stepfather’s gone. He went to California like three, four years ago.“
    “Please. I promise you it won’t go any further than this room.“
    A laugh. Sarcastic, cutting. “Yeah, that’s a good line. Real fucking good. You get that from Erica?“
    “No.“
    “ ‘Cause that’s the same fucking thing she said to me when I told her about it.“
    “I forced it out of Erica, Sinead. Nobody’ll force it out of me.“
    “Sure.“
    “Sinead, I promise.“
    Fagan looked up at me. “Awright. Awright, I’ll tell you what I told Mau, okay?“
    “Okay.“
    “No... details. Just what we were talking about.“
    I sat back and tried to relax.
    Fagan took another swipe at her eyes with the sleeve of the sweater. “Mau and me were sitting around her place one night, and we were thinking about maybe getting a video, you know, except it was raining, almost snowing. So she starts working the remote and finds a channel showing this Ted Danson movie called Something About Amelia. Well, like the title rang a bell somewheres, but I couldn’t remember why and Mau always thought Ted Danson was so boss on Cheers, so she says, let’s watch it. And I says okay, and then two minutes later I remember it’s about this guy, this father, who’s fucking his daughter. Like fucking her, and the wife, the mother, doesn’t even know.
    “So I tell Mau to turn the thing off. And she says, but I think Ted Danson is just so boss, and I get up and take the remote away from her and turn the fucking thing off. And she says, what’s the matter? And I tell Mau how my mom’s new husband always used to hit on me. Always around when I was trying to take a shower or get dressed for something. And how one night, he... he didn’t just hit on me, awright? And how the fucker kept coming back, like one night a week, trying to get more. And Mau, she’s watching me, with those great eyes of hers? And she’s listening to me tell her about my step’ and what I did to get even, why he had to go out to California and all.“
    Fagan seemed to run out of steam. I chanced a question. “What did you do to get even?“
    She looked up at me absently, then just shrugged, a little girl realizing the worst was over. “My step’, my mom told me he was supposed to get this big promotion at work. She was always like that, always paying more attention to what was going on at work with him instead of at home with me. So, anyway, I got the fucker good. What I did was, I called up his boss and told him my step’ was a baby-raper.“
    Jesus Christ.
    “It got my step’s fucking ass in the fucking sling and even my mom had to throw him out. And of course he didn’t just lose the promotion. He lost his job, too. That’s why he had to go out to the coast like that.“
    “And you told Mau about all this?“
    “Yeah.“
    “When?“
    The little girl shrug. “I dunno.“
    “You said before it was almost snowing out.“
    “Right. It was like, I dunno, a couple months ago.“
    “A couple of months.“
    “Yeah. That’s why it can’t have nothing to do with her being dead, see?“
    “Did Mau Tim ever say anything to you about it?“
    “No.“
    “Nothing?“
    “No. Well, just that night.“
    “That night?“
    “The night I told her about my step’.“
    “What did she say?“
    “Something like... The fuck was it? Oh, yeah, Mau says, ‘That’d never work with far-far’.“
    “What?“
    “Her eyes got all weird and she says something like, ‘Too bad. That’d never work with far-far.’ “
    I thought back to who had said something like that to me. Larry Shinkawa, as Mau Tim’s play on the sixties expression “far out.“
    “What did she mean, Sinead?“
    Fagan sniffled once. “Fuck am I supposed to know?“

- 27 -

    On the drive back to the condo, I tried to figure out what “far-far“ could stand for. Maybe a pet name, like “Mau Tim“ itself when the girl was growing up. I found the number Joseph Danucci had given me and dialed it.
    “Hello?“ said Claudette Danucci’s voice.
    “Mrs. Danucci, this is John Cuddy.“
    “Oh. Oh, yes.“
    “I have kind of a strange question to ask.“
    “Please?“
    “Does the expression ‘far-far’ mean anything to you?“
    A pause. “It is America word?“
    “I’m