With great inner turmoil, Arthur broke down and called Gordy. The little puke was, shittily enough, his best resource in a situation like this. You couldn’t trust him to wipe his own ass, but his talents were scary when it came to knowing the comings and goings of anyone around town. The kid did, however, need to be continually babysat, which was why Arthur came so close to slamming Gordy’s head into the side of the van every time he opened his mouth.
“Every Sunday! Just like I said!”
Arthur didn’t take his eyes off of Reilly as he walked into the bar with three other men.
“Just Sunday?”
“No. Most nights. It’s his regular hang.”
Arthur faced forward, took a joint off of the dashboard, and lit it up.
“Nice, Artie! I mean, Arthur! You gonna share that?”
“Fuck off.”
“What are you gonna do about the cop?”
Arthur started the van. Zed Zed’s engine spun up like a box of fighting alley cats.
“With you up my ass? Nothing.”
HE JUST WANTED TO PAINT SOME BOOBIES
Monday
1. The Township Diner
“A koala bear sleeps twenty hours a day. Did you know that, Jaime?”
“What?”
Two or three times a week, Lynch and Gomez met for breakfast at The Township Diner. Potterford was only an hour from New Jersey and well within the boundaries of the state’s diner culture. There were five within town limits, but only The Township made their bagel sandwiches with sausage from the Italian Market in Philly.
“Did you know a koala bear sleeps twenty hours a day?”
“I thought that was a sloth.”
“A sloth’s about the same, but you expect it from a sloth ‘cause of the name.”
“Fascinating, Ernie. Did you read the article on Avery yet?”
“I thought we didn’t talk about work at breakfast.”
“I’m not talking about work. I’m asking a question about a magazine.”
“Yes. I read it.”
“Then give it back. You’re getting egg on it.”
Gomez picked the magazine up by one corner and handed it across the booth as though it were a dirty diaper.
“Do we like this Avery guy for the murder?”
“Now you’re talking about work. But, no, he had a well-attended event at his gallery Saturday night.”
They went back to eating.
“Okay, listen Jaime. As humans, we’re awake sixteen hours a day.”
“Christ, are we still talking about this?”
“Yes, we are. Do you think koala bears lie on their death bed’s wondering where the time went?”
“Is that a philosophical question, or are you trying out new stand-up material on me?”
“’Yes’ or ‘no’ would have been fine.”
“Okay, then no.”
Gomez reached for his coffee.
“Whatever, puta.”
Lynch glanced at his watch to change the subject.
“It’s quarter of.”
“When are we going over to Avery’s studio?”
“Couple hours. It doesn’t open until 10:00.”
“Does he know we’re coming?”
“No.”
“What will we be interrupting?”
“A pottery class or something.”
“No dick models?”
“No, no dick models.”
“Good.”
Between jabs, they managed to empty their plates and polish off their coffees. They had arrived separately, and it was Lynch’s turn to pay, so Gomez waved a quick “see ya” and left. With the check in his hand and his book of logic puzzles under his arm, Lynch got up and walked toward the cash register. As he did, he spotted someone familiar eating at the counter.
“Hi there, Father.”
Leo spun around in his stool with a mouthful of pancakes.
“Oh, hi!”
“Father Pascucci. Right?”
“Yes, Detective. Good to see you.”
They shook hands.
“Please, it’s Jim.”
Lynch gave the priest a moment to wash down his food by acknowledging the diner with a general gesture in the air.
“You’re a fan are you, Father?”
“Yes I am. I’m here a couple times a month. I wish it were more”
“How are you holding up?”
“Oh, you know. Everyone’s doing their best, I suppose.”
“Well, if you’re here to clear your head, I’m with you. A diner is the perfect place for it, especially this one.”
Leo’s expression hardened a bit. Lynch feared he had crossed a line, although he wasn’t sure which one.
“Sorry Father, I hope I’m not being…”
He was “being,” or at least coming off as “being,” but Leo, as was his nature, gave the benefit of the doubt.
“No worries. Truth be told, I didn’t really know what to do with myself this morning. I usually use Mondays to start getting things organized for Mass, but Archbishop Fellini is doing all of them this weekend so I figure some good food is in order.”
“You’ve tried the sausage here, I hope.”
“Tried it? I made it.”
“You made it?”
“My family did.”
“That’s about the coolest thing I’ve heard all week.”
“No kidding.”
“Hey, listen, are you going to be at the church today? I’d like to do a quick interview if that’s okay.”
“Sure, I’ll be at Saint Matthew’s trying to hide from the press.”
“Mind if I stop by?”
“Come in the side entrance.”
“I certainly will.”
Then Lynch got the attention of the waitress behind the counter.
“Hey Rhonda, this guy’s breakfast is covered okay?”
Rhonda nodded. Lynch paid his tab and left.
Leo did his best to enjoy the rest of his breakfast. He wasn’t stupid. He knew the interview had already started.
2. The New Unjudged Cloister
It wasn’t the barn, not even close. It was musty, dark, and creepy as shit. The location had been used by the UJ only once before. Now, at least for a while, they were going to have to call it home. This was the third time they’d gone through the drill. Bubbs and Rick were tagging the walls. Steven was working on firing up the generator and running extension cords. Arthur was off by himself sitting on a ratty old armchair with his feet up on an overturned waste basket. He was slumped down and staring at a pipe on the wall for no reason other than he needed a place to put his eyes. He’d been up all night; the other three hadn’t.
If I can’t sleep, nobody sleeps.
“You must be cooking up something good over there, Artie!”
Rick might as well have been talking to his spray can. Arthur’s brain had been
