“Sure,” Burke said.
“They’re not for everybody, I
“You know Ciss, used to having her house just so.
God what she’d have been ‘like if we’d
had kids.”
“Easy to get set in your ways,” Burke said.
The common was a small green triangle at the intersecof three streets. There was a white eighteenth-century house set on it, where at Christmas, the women’s
56
P-O/?. Prer auxiliary of something or other, Burke had never really known what, sold greens and fruitcake and handmade satin bows.
“So what do you think of Stone?” Hathaway said.
He took a handful of the popcorn and scattered it on the grass in front of the bench.
Burke was silent a moment, watching the pigeons hop and flutter after the popcorn.
“Well,” Burke said finally,
“it’s too soon to say, I guess.”
“I realize that, but what’s your
impression.”
“He might not be the answer,” Burke said.
“Really?” Hathaway seemed surprised.
“Why do you say so?”
“I don’t know exactly, there’s
just something… he’s got more iron in him than I was expecting.”
“Lou, he’s a lush,” Hathaway
said. “He was fired for drinking on duty. His personnel file said he was unfit for police work.”
“Yeah, I know,” Burke said. “But
he doesn’t give me that feeling. He was a homicide cop in L.A., remember.”
“And he was half gassed when we interviewed him in Chicago,” Hathaway said.
Burke shrugged.
“Well, let’s keep our eyes
open,” Hathaway said.
“What we don’t want is some born-again
straight arrow poking his sober nose in where it shouldn’t go.”
Burke nodded.
“I still don’t see why you
wouldn’t take the job, Lou.”
Hathaway said. “It would have worked out so well.”
“No,” Burke said. “I’m
a lot more effective if I’m not in charge. I’m the chief and things go bad, everybody lands on me. I’m just a cop following orders and no one pays me much attention. I know as much as I would being chief,
I’m a lot less visible. I do us more good where I am.“
“Things aren’t going to go bad,
Lou.”
“I like to plan for what’s possible, not what’s likely,” said.
“Sure, Lou, I understand, just would have been nice if been clearer on this before Torn left.”
“He’d have had to leave anyway.”
“Yes, I guess so,” Hathaway said.
-The pigeons still tluttered and strutted, their heads bob-like mechanical contrivances around him, but the pop-was gone.
“And maybe I’m wrong,” Burke
said.
