Race

the one that registered most accurately in my nose.

I thanked her, paid, and left the perfume shop with a bag containing Elizabeth Taylor’s Black Pearl.

With the bag of perfume under my arm I strolled out onto the street. There were too many things on my mind. What was I doing in Operation Anti-RACE anyways?

I was walking along the sidewalk when I felt something-on the road-follow me. I could feel a presence, as if a car was right behind me, moving at my pace.

I stopped. I sensed that it stopped, too.

This was bullshit. I turned.

A familiar orange and navy green taxi had come to an abrupt halt. The driver instantly looked away as if he was sightseeing.

I shook my head.

I went over and knocked on the window. The driver rolled down and innocently looked at me.

“Sir,” I said in my police-like tone. “Are you following me?”

“No, sir,” he said.

“Then you’re stalking me. That’s illegal in this country.”

“No, I was not stalking.” He shook his head.

“Then what were you doing?” I demanded.

He paused and then said, “I was waiting to run taxi over you.”

I laughed.

Mahmud Hanif laughed back.

I got into the back.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked.

“Nowhere special,” I said, stretching in the back, but then suddenly I went upright. “Did you turn on the meter?”

“It’s not working,” he said. He tapped the meter.

“Yeah, right,” I said. “Let me see.” I leaned over and began poking into the small machine.

“No,” he protested. “It will break.”

“I thought it was broken,” I said.

“Yes, but it will break more.”

“Turn it on.” I was now serious.

He hesitated.

“Now.”

He complied.

“Good,” I said falling onto the back seat.

“Something wrong?” he said. “You don’t look good.”

“Just that one of my co-workers was brutally beaten and of course I’m the one to blame. Also, I’m going nowhere in the force. In fact, I might just quit the force all together. Apart from that, everything is great. How ’bout you?”

He narrowed his eyes and through the rear-view mirror looked at me hard. “You’re making jokes, yes? You call it sarkasim.”

“Sarcasm,” I corrected him. “And no, I’m not joking. Mahmud, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Your covert operation not going good?” he asked.

“Not exactly.”

“You’re not beating evil people?”

“No. It looks like they’re beating us.”

“You know what you need?”

“What?”

“Chai.”

“What?”

“Indian tea. That’s what you need. Hot cup of chai.”

I just shrugged. I wasn’t a tea drinker.

“Come, I’ll take you to a place where they make the best chai.”

“Maybe later. I need time to collect myself.”

“Collect?” he said.

“Time to think.”

“Yes.”

I leaned back and closed my eyes. One camera tape from the House of Jam was missing. My gut told me it was the very same tape that had recorded the attack on Barnes. My gut also said that something was happening behind my back. Something that I was not supposed to know. What could it be?

Why was I brought into Operation Anti-RACE? I was the very person who had ruined another drug investigation? Also, I was not even a constable. There must be more qualified officers than me. Of course, there are more qualified officers than me.

Maybe, just maybe, I was brought in because I was an outsider: a civilian officer. Aldrich had said there would be a lot demanded of me and that he hoped I was prepared for it. What did he mean? Prepared for what? Did Aldrich have plans for me? If so, what plans? If I was brought in from outside, there must be something for me to uncover.

“There is an old saying,” Mahmud said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “We dug out a mountain but discovered only a small mouse.”

I thought about it. I had no idea what that meant.

“Your big problem may only need a simple solution.”

I nodded. “I hope so.” I gave Mahmud an address in Scarborough.

I told him to park a block away. He parked and said, “That will be twenty-two dollars and seventy-five cents.”

I shoved my hand into my pockets and could just manage thirteen dollars. “Do you know what IOUs are?” I said, embarrassed. Here I was forcing him to turn on the meter and I didn’t have enough money to pay him.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “If you don’t pay next time I will follow you and for real run you over.” He smiled.

“Thanks, buddy.” I patted him on the shoulder. “You’re now officially my best friend.”

I found Beadsworth sitting in the car. I tapped on the passenger-side window. He unlocked and I got in. He was going over some papers that looked like a child had written on them.

“My son’s homework,” he said, realizing I was staring. “Just making sure it’s correct.”

“Sure,” I said.

I stared out to the building across while he continued double-checking the papers. I kind of admired him for that. He seemed like a devoted family man.

“One boy and one girl?” I asked.

He looked up from the sheet of paper. “Two boys.”

“Which one got hurt?” I asked.

He thought about it and then realized what I was talking about, “Noel-he’s the oldest-he broke his arm. He’s a goalie in his school’s soccer team. Then there’s baby Liam.”

“How old is Liam?”

“Five months.”

I moved my head up and down, not knowing what else to say.

After a few seconds of silence he went back to the papers.

I glanced at the building across and all looked normal.

“Where’s Nemdharry and Terries?” I asked.