Summer Cool

Coleman looked away from Paine, looked at the ceiling, looked back. 'You know I'm not supposed to talk to you about that.'

Paine kept his gaze steady.

'You didn't hear this from me,' Coleman said. For the first time in their conversation, his look was rock hard, and stayed that way until Paine nodded.

Coleman said, 'You remember Hermano?'

'Yes.'

'Well, Hermano has been doing turn work for us. He was facing five to ten and didn't feel like getting fucked in the ass anymore. So Petty had him set up in a drug business, showing some new people interested in moving in all the connections in lower Westchester. He was talking to Petty every week. It was slow going.'

'You think Bobby leaving has anything to do with this?'

'Like I said, we both know Petty. It would have to be something else.'

'Anything happen to him yesterday, a phone call, someone come to see him that could have set him off?'

'Not that I know of. But he's been a lone wolf for a long time. He didn't tell anybody anything.'

'Is that your way of saying you were trying to bust him down next?'

Coleman began to turn red. 'Now, I didn't say-'

'You don't have to say anything. We both remember what happened when he stuck with me after Dannon went after my ass. We both know what happens to a cop when he tells everybody he works with to fuck off.'

'Nobody-'

'I'm sure nobody said anything out loud. I bet after he left the locker room the middle fingers went up, though. Petty is the toughest bastard I ever met, much tougher than you or I will ever be. He could live with it. He knew what you and Dannon were going to do. If Dannon had gotten the case reopened on me, it would have meant his badge. You would have made sure of it this time.'

Coleman said nothing, let the air conditioning blow over the back of his head.

'You said something before about giving me my job back?' Paine asked pleasantly.

Coleman looked as though he'd swallowed something very sour. He looked past Paine's head for a long time. His eyes had taken on the rock hardness evidenced earlier; with an effort of will, he reshaped and softened his face before he let it drift back to Paine.

'A lot of what you've said is true,' he said. 'I admit that. But Joe Dannon's dead. The investigation of what happened between you and him is closed. You've been completely exonerated. I could start you again, at current pay levels, at exactly the same spot you left in. And, due to extenuating circumstances, I could see that your move toward detective's rank was expedited. I think I owe you that much, and more.'

'Is your ass on the line, Coleman?' Paine asked, smiling.

'No,' Coleman shot back.

'That's not what I heard. I heard a shake-up is on the way, with this new guy as chief. And you figure on strengthening your position by getting me back on the force and making everyone see what a great guy you are, never mind a cracker jack administrator.'

Coleman was looking down at his blotter. 'I could assign you to find Bob Petty, at full pay, on leave. You'd be doing just what you are now, and get paid steady for it. You know he wiped Terry out. She must have told you that.'

'She told me,' Paine said, getting up, 'but I don't give a fuck about money.'

'You should,' Coleman said. 'Like I said, with full pay-'

'Did Bobby say anything else to you on the phone?'

Paine was about to get up, but he found himself pinned, Coleman leaning across his desk, his hand gripping Paine's arm. There was a look of desperation in Coleman's eyes that Paine wanted to relish but discovered he could not.

'Look,' Coleman said, 'come back and work for me now, and I'll push you faster than you thought possible. In six months, you'll have Petty's old job. Full detective, full pay, accrued pension. I can promise that. Do it for your dad.' Coleman tried to smile_; it came onto his face crooked. 'Just like old times, eh?'

'There weren't any old times,' Paine said. He pulled his arm away from Coleman's grip, got up, and walked to the door.

As he opened it he looked back. Coleman was sinking slowly back into his chair. The breeze from the air conditioner was rustling the back of his head again_; again, none of the coolness was reaching his sweating face.

Coleman looked at him, a haunted look, a look that perhaps was searching for the old times he so desperately wanted to cling to. Then his hands moved around his desk, looking for papers to rustle, and his eyes looked down, a new drop of sweat falling from his face to the center of the empty blotter.

'Better turn your air conditioner off,' Paine said, leaving the door open behind him. 'I might call the mayor and tell him you're cheating.'

4

Paine sat in his car. The road he had parked on sported uncollected garbage spilling off the curbs, cracked brick-face buildings, rusting grates over bodega windows, Miller beer signs behind iron-reinforced windows with only the neon on the M flashing sporadically. The entire street looked like an alley.

Ah, America, Paine thought.

Paine lifted his watch to check the time_; as he did so, there was a tap on the passenger-side window and he looked over to see Roberto Hermano's smiling face. Hermano was almost woman-cute, with tight black curls, limpid brown eyes with long lashes. His skin was smooth and unblemished. He was twenty-six, but looked seventeen. Paine's watch said 5:45; Hermano was precisely on time.

Paine leaned over and unlocked the door, and Hermano slid into the seat, slammed the door behind him, and relocked it.

Hermano flipped the switch on a miniature boom box he had set in his lap; a blurt of reggae music came out, very loud, before Paine hit the stop button and said, 'Don't.'

Hermano smiled widely and then feigned hurt. 'Paine-man, how you doing? Don't you like Bob Marley, man? I like Bob Marley.' He moved his face closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. Paine smelled garlic and marijuana, a sickening mix. 'Aroun' this neighborhood, man, even if you Puerto Rican, you gotta like Bob Marley.'

He moved back to his side of the seat, punched Paine playfully on the arm with his left fist. 'So, Paine-man, how you been? You know, I always like you. I like the way you didn't ring my cajones the way that Dannon did. Dannon liked to ring my cajones. I bet he like to suck them, if he can. That fuck-meat, I hope he rot in hell where he is.' He smiled, showing beautiful white teeth. 'So, how you been?'

'Not bad. I want to know about Bobby.'

'Bobby? Bobby, he great, man. He the greatest. I got nothing but good things to say about Bobby.'

'Do you have any idea where he is?'

'Me?' He shook his head vigorously. 'No, I got no idea. Like I say, Bobby, he's the greatest.'

'Did you know he's gone?'

A wary look clicked onto Hermano's face. 'You mean fired? Or like you, busted down?'

'No, gone. He took off, left his family, the police force.'

A sickly smile had come onto Hermano's face. 'Don't say that, man. Don't joke wi' me, you know it's not nice.'