So much for my good mood.
I resumed scaling Mount Paperwork, filing things, throwing out things, typing things. I always saved the typing for last because I'm so bad at it.
'Hi, Jackie.'
I looked up from the keyboard and saw that Harry McGlade had walked into my office. Apparently no one believed in knocking anymore. Harry was wearing the typical Harry outfit: stained brown pants, beige jacket, fat tie, and more wrinkles than a retirement home.
I'd have to get a lock for that damn door.
'What do you want, Harry?'
I continued typing, trying to show that I was busy.
'You still haven't thanked me.'
'For what?' I asked, and then looked at my 97-723 report and saw I'd typed 'for what' on it. I swore and reached for the correction fluid.
'For leading you to the killer. Without me, you never would have connected Kork to the Trainter show. You'll probably get a big fat promotion out of this. 'Captain Daniels.' It has a nice ring to it. You owe me.'
'I do, huh?'
I couldn't find the Wite-Out, so I went back and crossed out the mistake in pen.
'Sure. That's why I stopped by, so you can thank me and buy me breakfast.'
'Maybe you should buy me breakfast. You're the one getting the movie offers.'
'Funny you should mention that, Jackie. A Hollywood agent called this morning, interested in turning my story into a film. Guess who's going to play me?'
'Danny DeVito.'
'Funny. Ha ha. Actually, Brad Pitt is interested. But before they can start shoveling money at me, there's a tiny little question about story rights.'
McGlade pulled some folded paper out of his pants pocket.
'If you'll just sign here...'
'No way, Harry.'
'Come on, Jackie. There'll be some money in it for you. I mean, not much, but you'd be doing me a huge favor.'
'I don't think so.'
'Let's at least discuss it over breakfast.'
'I've got a lot of paperwork to finish.'
Harry put his hands on my desk and leaned toward me.
'Screw the paperwork. It'll be here when you get back. Come out for breakfast with an old friend. You work too hard anyway. Enjoy life, Jackie. Stop being married to the job.'
I wasn't sure eating breakfast with Harry would qualify as enjoying life, but what he said was very similar to what Herb had said. Did I want, at the end of my life, for my epitaph to be, 'She was a good cop'?
I guess that I did.
But even a good cop has to eat.
'Fine. A quick breakfast. But I have no desire to see myself on the silver screen, Harry.'
'Some big names are interested in your part, Jackie. I've heard the name Roseanne being bandied around. It's a Hollywood rule. All tough-guy heroes need a humorous sidekick.'
'Now I'm definitely not going to sign that paper.'
'Sure you're not.'
He grinned again, and I got up and grabbed my coat.
'I know this terrific new pancake place, just opened.' Harry held the door for me, the first gentlemanly act I'd ever seen him perform. 'If you don't like it, it's my treat.'
'I hate it already.'
We walked out the door.
