Yesterday's News

it.”
    “I remember bumping into a hall monitor at the drinking fountain. Must have been third grade. Wanna see my scar?”
    A crusty but familiar voice said, “What the hell’s going on here.”
    Schonstein and Cronan turned to look at Jones. Schonstein said, “Police business. Butt out.”
    I said, “Mr. Jones, could you call Captain Hagan at the station and ask him if he sent Jan and Dean here to sing to me?”
    Cronan said, “Just one more word, pal.”
    Jones said, “What the hell do they want with you?”
    “We haven’t gotten around to it yet, but if they had a warrant they would have shown it to me. If you don’t give them permission to come into my room and I don’t either, we can have their asses if they try something.”
    Jones said, “Oh, they ain’t gonna try anything. Are you, boys?”
    Schonstein began to hyperventilate.
    Cronan boiled potatoes between his ears. “I don’t forget this kind of shit, pal.”
    “Looks like a nice grassy patch right over there.”
    They followed me to the one tree throwing any shade and stayed standing while I sat and aligned my back against the trunk. Jones watched us from the doorway to his office, smoothing down the fangs of his mustache.
    Schonstein said, “You’re playing with fire, Cuddy.”
    “How about you hear me out, then ask any follow-up questions you’ve got?”
    “Say it.”
    “Hagan didn’t send you guys, and I’m told your dad was a hell of a cop, so I doubt he sent you either. Think this through. If you’re mixed up in something like this, even innocently, you’re just making it look worse by rousting someone who probably can’t lay a glove on you.”
    Cronan said, “You got a big mouth.”
    “Look, Cronan, I’ve heard you were home sick the nights that matter. If that’s true, you’ve got nothing to worry about. If it’s not, you do. Either way, banging away at me doesn’t help the situation.”
    Schonstein said, “Coyne was a hustler.”
    Cronan cut in. “The kinda guy would queer a priest, he got the chance.”
    Schonstein said, “You think I’m gonna let you try to tie me up with him?”
    “I’ll tell you what I think. I think it’s damn peculiar the way people die down here. Things happened in Boston that happened here, just a whiff of police involvement and they’d be counting the shingles on your roof, just to be sure you didn’t have any you couldn’t account for.”
    Cronan said, “You ain’t in Boston now, pal.”
    “That’s right. But I was when Jane Rust hired me, and I’ll be back there only after I’m finished here.”
    Schonstein said, “You’ll be finished here soon enough, we yank your license.”
    I shook my head. “First, you haven’t got the juice. You can start the process rolling back at the Department of Public Safety, but you can’t just reach out and grab it. Second, you’re a little shy of grounds. Hagan himself told me the files on both Coyne and Rust were closed. That means there’s no ongoing investigation I’m interfering with. Unless you can enlighten me there?”
    Schonstein thought it over. “Let’s go, Dan.”
    Cronan said to me, “Maybe sometime I catch you in an alley someplace. No badge, no bullshit. Just you and me. Then we’ll find out if your balls are as big as your mouth.”
    They turned and strode back to their unmarked sedan. Schonstein wheeled out, peeling some rubber in front of Jones.
    I raised my voice. “Thanks for backing my play, Mr. Jones.”
    He said, “First name’s Emil. What’re you doing for dinner?”

    “John, now that’s a good name. Strong, but common enough, you don’t start folks laughing when they hear it. Ever known anybody named Emil?”
    “Not till now.”
    “Didn’t think so. Growing up, other kids gave me hell to pay on it. One squirt, thought he was tough, called me Emily in front of a couple of girls.”
    “And?”
    “And he found two of his teeth right off. Probably swallowed the third one.”
    I laughed politely and reached for another Killian’s Irish Red ale on the kitchen counter. Jones had bought some barbecued chicken from a local place that did a terrific job on the sauce and the skin. While he heated it up, I drove to the liquor store for a couple of six packs. His dinette set just about filled the floor space between refrigerator and stove.
    Emil said, “This Killian’s is pretty good stuff. Come out of Boston ?”
    “No. I think it’s part of Coors. Our breweries are trying to make a comeback, but