It wasn’t the first time he had thought of using his profession to settle a score or right a personal wrong. But of course he had never done anything like that. He was a good person and a good cop. A few free counter lunches were the only perks he had ever allowed himself.
He couldn’t help it if his brain got overheated every once in a while. You can control your actions but not your thoughts. And yes, he had violent thoughts.
But the most violent moment of his life? It was back in the living room of the little two-family house in Forest Hills when his father, after too many Budweisers (for a change), settled an argument by punching his mother in the jaw. And Andy, maybe seventeen at the time, had grabbed the old man by the shoulders and shoved him hard, sent him staggering headfirst into the stone mantel. He could still hear the
He’d expected the old man to spin around and come snarling back at him. But instead, he coiled his body, curled into a cowering position against the flowered wallpaper. To his shock, Andy realized his father was afraid of him.
It should have changed everything. But it didn’t. Anthony Pavano was a bully. His son Andy wasn’t.
Then Andy did twelve years as a New York City cop. Nothing as violent as that impulsive moment.
And why was he thinking of it now in this theater with people laughing all around him? Onstage, the nearsighted inspector was interviewing a coatrack. Andy glanced around, searching for Sari. But he couldn’t locate her in the dark.
He really needed a smoke. He could feel the pack of Camels in his jacket pocket. Cora probably wouldn’t approve. Who was Cora? He had to remind himself.
The play ended finally. Yes, the nearsighted inspector had committed the murder. But he was too nearsighted to realize it. At the end, he arrested himself.
Andy climbed to his feet and started to follow Cora across the aisle toward the exit.
“Very clever,” a woman said behind him.
“Too clever,” the man with her said.
“Did you guess the ending?”
“Yes. About an hour ago. But I still enjoyed it.”
“It’s one of his lesser works.”
“All of his plays are lesser works.”
Into the cool night air. A chatter of voices as people hurried to their cars. Cora walked along the sidewalk toward the pier till they were away from the crowd, then turned back to him. “It wasn’t very good, was it.” Said with a shrug and a sad smile.
“I don’t think I laughed,” he said. His eyes were over her shoulder, searching for Sari. How had she disappeared? He just wanted a glimpse of her.
“It was supposed to be sophisticated,” she said. “But the actors camped it up too much, don’t you think? If they’d played it sincere. .”
He didn’t want to discuss the play. He wanted to catch one more look at Sari and have a slow, soothing smoke. He wanted to burn his throat and let the smoke make his eyes water.
No. He didn’t know what he wanted.
But when he heard the shrill shouts, he suddenly snapped alert. He turned toward the cries. From the pier? He spun away from Cora and took off running.
19
He heard shouts for help. Shrill cries. And, in the circle of light from a tall streetlamp, saw a small group of people wrestling against the side of the darkened lobster shack. He didn’t realize they were children until he was a few feet from them.
“Stop! Police!” he boomed.
He stepped in something soft. Glancing down, he saw a smashed ice cream cone on the pavement beneath his shoe. Another cone lay near it, ice cream still round at the top.
“You dumb shit! You dumb shit! You pay me back!” a blond-haired boy in a blue Southampton sweatshirt was screeching.
A big dark-haired kid, nearly twice his size, had him by the front of the sweatshirt and swung a meaty fist above the boy’s face. “Shut up! Shut the fuck up, liar!”
Two or three other kids stood back a few feet and watched. They were all shouting angrily at the big guy.
Not even teenagers, Andy realized. Their voices hadn’t changed.
“You fuck! You pay me for that cone!”
“You want a cone? I’ll shove it up your ass! You think I can’t? You want to dare me?”
The big kid started to lower his fist to the smaller boy’s midsection. Andy stepped between them and absorbed most of the blow on his side. The kid had a pretty good punch.
“Break it up. Police.”
He grabbed the big kid by the shoulders of his gray hoodie and pushed him backward.
“Get off me, asshole. You don’t look like no police.”
“Sag Harbor Police,” Andy said, as if that would convince the kid. “What’s the fight about?”
The blond-haired boy pointed to the asphalt. “My ice cream cone. He tried to take it.”
“Liar!” the big kid screamed. He lunged at the smaller guy again. Andy caught him and stood him up.
“Ethan is telling the truth!” a girl cried. The others joined in agreement.
“You’re Ethan?” Andy asked.
The blond kid nodded. He had tears in his eyes. He brushed back his straight blond hair with one hand. His whole body was trembling. Andy saw he was struggling with all his might not to burst out sobbing.
“And what’s your name?” Andy asked the other kid.
No reply. Instead, a sullen stare.
“Derek Saltzman,” the girl said. “He knocked down my cone, too.”
“I’ll knock
“You’re not going to knock anyone down,” Andy growled. “What’s your problem?”
“Derek is mean,” the girl said. “He’s always picking fights.”
“He’s always stealing our stuff,” Ethan said in a trembling voice.
“Fucking liars,” Derek muttered.
“Nice language,” Andy said. “How old are you?”
“Old enough,” the kid muttered, still offering up the surly glare.
“He’s twelve,” the girl offered.
“And how old are you?” Andy asked Ethan.
Ethan took a step back. He didn’t take his eyes off Derek. “I’m twelve, too.”
Cora stepped up beside Andy. “What’s going on?”
“Kids fighting,” he told her. “Over ice cream.”
“I didn’t take their ice cream,” Derek snarled. His fat cheeks puffed in and out like a blowfish. “They’re total liars.”
Andy noticed he cleaned up his language with a woman present.
“Then how did the cones end up on the pavement?” Andy asked.
Derek shrugged. “They dropped them.”
“Liar!”
Cora squinted at them. “Why are you kids all alone out here? It’s ten o’clock at night.”
Before anyone could answer, hurried footsteps clicked over the asphalt. Andy turned to see a red-haired
