Smoke

'Civilians think like civilians,' Barney said, and shrugged. 'There's no point trying to change them.'

'You're probably right. What happens now?'

'When I'm done at the dentist,' Barney said, 'I'll go see this Peg Briscoe. You wanna come along?'

'What about those shooflys of yours?'

'I've already signed out that I'm going to interview Peg Briscoe. That's where I'll go, and when they see that's where I'm going they'll forget me for today. They don't have the manpower to watch every red-flag cop twenty-four hours a day.'

'I should think not.'

'So you'll go there, too, you'll drive, and you'll park near the place—'

'Where is it?'

'Bay Ridge, I'll give you the address. When I get there, I'll go around the block a couple times, make sure I'm alone. Then I'll park and go in, and when you see me go in you go in. Then we go talk to Briscoe together. And with any luck our pal Freddie.'

'This is very good news.' Leethe said. He damn near smiled, the bastard.

22

Driving south toward New York City on the Taconic Parkway, the keys to their new summer house in her pocket, Peg said, 'I thought he looked a little funny when I gave him cash.'

Beside her, Freddie was being Dick Tracy again, always a sign he was in a cheerful mood, sometimes a sign he was in too cheerful a mood, might decide to get playful or something. But at the moment he was just sitting there, being a good boy, wearing his head and his pink Playtex gloves. Using a gloved finger to scratch Dick's nose, he said, 'Whaddaya mean, money? Why wouldn't he want money? You're telling me they still use wampum up here?'

'Checks,' Peg said. Having lived a more or less normal life until she'd met Freddie, it was frequently her job to explain the straight world to him. 'Nobody uses cash anymore,' she explained.

'Whadda they use?'

'When you go the supermarket, you use your credit card.'

'Don't have one.'

'I know. When you rent a house, you pay by check.'

'Don't have a checking account.'

'I know. Freddie, we might have to get us one.'

Freddie really and truly didn't get it. 'Why? Peg, cash is money. You know? The green stuff, that's the actual money.'

'But nobody uses it.'

'Big companies don't use it.'

'Nobody uses it,' Peg insisted. 'So when you use it, you stand out, people look at you.'

'They don't look at me, Peg.'

'You know what I mean, Freddie, don't be a smartaleck. You know, I used to have a checking account.'

'What, and you miss it?'

'The problem is,' Peg said, 'when you move a lot of money around in a bank, they have to report it to the feds. I forget, it's either five or ten thousand. You move more than that, whichever it is, the bank tells the IRS, and they look at you to see what's what.'

Dick Tracy's mask managed to look astonished, even skeptical. He said, 'Regular citizens they do this to?'

'Anybody. Sure.'

'And the citizens put up with it?'

'Well, yeah.'

The Dick Tracy head shook, in mournful wonder. 'Peg,' Freddie said, from down inside there, 'that's a world I never wanna be a part of.'

'I don't think you'll be asked,' Peg told him. 'But what I think I'll do, I'll reactivate my old checking account, or start a new one, and put three or four grand a week in it, so we can pay our bills like regular people.'

'Peg, I don't know about this,' Freddie said.

'And I'll get a credit card,' Peg said. 'Dr. Lopakne'll give me a reference, if I ask.' Dr. Lopakne was the dentist she'd most recently worked for.

'Peg!' Freddie cried. He sounded really alarmed now. 'I don't like this, Peg. In our life, we don't need all this stuff.'

'I tell you what I'll do,' Peg said. 'I'll use the address in the country. That way, when we move back to town, I can just cancel everything.'

'Okay,' he said, but he still sounded dubious.

'We don't want people wondering about us, Freddie,' Peg said.

'Yeah, you're right, I know you're right,' Freddie said. 'It's just such a weird way to live, though. Afraid of the feds. Don't believe in cash money. Putting stuff down on paper all the time. How do the squares stand it?'

'They get used to it,' Peg said.

The deal was, they were taking the house for four months, July through October, two thousand a month, and the owners were throwing in the last week in June, but they wanted a one-month deposit, so, four thousand in front. It was when Peg had opened her shoulder bag and taken out the envelope with five grand in it and counted it out on the desk until she got to four thousand, and then put the rest away again, that Call Me Tom began to look a little glassy.

Peg had seen that reaction, and understood it, and explained that her boyfriend was avoiding checks and normal paper trails at the moment because he was in a legal battle with his ex-wife, which was why Peg was signing the lease by herself and her boyfriend had given her cash to seal the bargain. Call Me Tom understood, of course, about legal battles with ex-wives, so that was okay, but still, at the end, after the signature and the handshake, as he escorted Peg out of his office, and over to her van, parked where the gas pumps used to be, he said, 'I hope your friend's legal problems get worked out.'

'Me, too,' Peg said, and smiled, but she knew what he meant. Normal people really and truly don't trust cash.

The place was theirs right now, to move in whenever they wanted. Driving back, they discussed their plans. It would be nice to make the move, do it and be done with it, but on the other hand did they want to drive another hundred and some miles today? Probably not. So they go home to Bay Ridge, pack, make grocery lists and stuff, sleep in the apartment, and tomorrow morning head north.

It might have worked out that way, too, if they hadn't been interrupted. Freddie was in the bedroom, his two beat-up suitcases on the bed, drawers open as he transferred stuff, and Peg was in the kitchen, deciding what to take from the refrigerator and the shelves and what to toss out, when a banging sounded at the front door. Freddie and Peg both moved, meeting in the living room, giving each other wary looks. Peg called at the door, 'Who is it?'

'Police!'

Already Freddie's head was coming off, as he dashed back into the bedroom. Peg called, 'Just a second till I get dressed!' Then she returned to the kitchen, closed the cabinet doors, and ran some water from the sink over her head, dabbing it quickly with a dish towel.

Meanwhile, the pounding started up again at the front door. Crossing the living room, Peg called, 'Here I come! Here I come!' Opening the door, she said, 'I just got out of the shower.'

It was plainclothes cops, which was worse than usual cops, because that meant already they were taking it seriously, whatever it was. One of them was your typical beefy cop, tough guy, looking for a chance to throw his weight around. He came in first, flashing his shield in its leather case, saying, 'We're looking for Freddie Noon.'

'Not here,' Peg said. 'You came to the wrong place.'

'No, we didn't, girlie,' the tough cop said. He put away his shield, then pulled out a folded document on thick paper. 'This is the warrant,' he said, waving it around like an incense holder, sanctifying the apartment for his search. 'It says we can go through this place, look for your boyfriend.'

'He isn't my boyfriend.'