Shoot the Moon

Chapter Twenty-Six - Man in a Tub

"Why don't you quit smoking again, Echo?"

"I smoke four cigarettes a day. Nobody lives forever."

"Can I have one?"

"No, you're not starting again."

She put the cigarette out after the second drag, before reported her to the mayor.

"Have a bite of this cookie," I said, "See what that does for you."

She took a bite and closed her eyes.

"God! Chocolate. It's better than sex."

"Well..."

"Have you slept with anyone since me that last time?"

"No."

"Good. Neither have I. By the way, why haven't you asked me about that? Don't you care?"

"I've been trying to look at it from my feminine side."

She tossed her napkin over the salad and said, "Let's give these boys a huge tip and go home."

There was an NYPD blue and white in front of our building. TJ and two uniforms were getting into the patrol car when I called out. TJ spoke to the cops and walked over. I introduced him to Echo, and he charmed her for five minutes. He dropped the street slang and spoke to her like James Earl Jones. Then he asked her to excuse us. Echo said she certainly would and shook her head at me as she walked into 77.

"How did you ever find a woman like that?

"This isn't going to take long, is it, TJ?"

"We found that guy you were looking for."

"What guy's that?"

"Cute. Murphy, I'm busy."

"Mickey Dolan?"

"Thaaaat's right. Or maybe you found him days ago?"

I was exhausted with juggling lies so I admitted that I had.

"That's interesting," he said. "Funny you didn't tell me about it. When was the last time you saw him?"

"I know why cops ask that question, TJ. What happened?"

"You didn't call me."

"I was waiting until I had something to give you."

"Give it to me now."

I told him about the records Mickey had stolen. I didn't tell him about Hinchman.

"Well," he said, "Your friend Mickey ain't on the run no more. Want to do me a favor and take a look at his things?"

"What happened?"

"We found a body in the trunk of a car at an auto dump in Jersey. The wallet had ID for Mickey Dolan."

I couldn't form a thought. Just a picture of Mickey Dolan in his ridiculous bum's disguise kept reappearing in my mind. I had known him so long. I couldn't come back from the shock of it. His whole life was a pitiful waste. "You want me to identify the body?"

"If you can. The car was crushed in the compactor. Junkyard guy saw a leg flapping around when the trunk popped open as the car got squeezed. Right now we've got a corpse that's one foot tall and three feet wide. Body doesn't look like anything so much as a bag of pizza parlor garbage."

In the car TJ explained that Mickey had been found on Thursday afternoon. N.Y.P.D. was notified on Friday and Intelligence was informed because Mickey's name had a red flag on it.

"You'll be talking to homicide, too. They haven't exactly squared things with Jersey yet, so we're going over there. I'll just tell them you knew the victim. A concerned citizen, right?"

"I am a very concerned citizen right now."

"I thought you might be. That's good. Now maybe I'll get straight answers and no more bullshit."

I stood as far away as I could. They had damaged Mickey's body even further trying to extract it from the compacted wreck. They wheeled out a large plastic tub covered with a damp white cloth. The stench trailed along behind and filled the room. I breathed through my mouth and inched toward the tub. When I had come close enough to see over the edge, a guy in a white apron threw off the cloth.

I turned away.

"Well?" TJ asked. He was standing on the other side of the room with a couple of New Jersey cops.

"How the hell do I know? Might as well ask me to identify a bucket of goulash. What about fingerprints?"

"Too abraded. We may get a few partials. We'll nail it down somehow. Dental records probably."

"Take a good look at his liver. If it's Mickey Dolan it'll read out like a drugstore inventory."