Merrick by Ken Bruen

feet, his legs literally shaking. He made it to the door. Scar face, said
    ‘You need drink?’
    Tossed the bottle at him and he never knew, how in hell he caught it. He was on the street
    in ten seconds, trying to put distance between them. Not that you ever could witht hose
    animals. He needed that drink so bad, raised the bottle, it was empty. A sound carried
    from the room he’d been in, a low growling, laced with violence, it could almost have
    been laughter.

‘SHROUDS HAVE NO SECRETS.’
    RABBI DAVID WOLPE.

I don’t know was it luck, or coincidence but I was back in my so called apartment when
    the phone rang. The elusive answer still biting on the fringes of my mind.
    Answered
    ‘Yeah?’
    ‘Ryan, it’s Boxer.’
    Took me a moment, then I said
    ‘Sergeant, how you doing?’
    Jesus, I sounded like Joey from Friends.
    He said
    ‘Good. The luck of the Irish, your query on the credit card gig, who sent the flowers, we
    got a hit.’
    Holy fook.
    I said
    ‘Holy fook.’
    He laughed, said
    ‘Thanks would have worked as well.’
    Then he got focused, said
    ‘The credit card is issued to a Mr.’s Trent. Mean anything to you?’
    Thought……come on, Jesus, come on…………..bingo.
    ‘Yes, Sweet Jesus, yes. Thank you.’
    I could hear him laughing, he said
    ‘We stand to serve.’
    ‘I owe you, big time.’
    ‘That you do ………….boyo, A bottle of Jameson would do nicely.’
    ‘Done deal and thanks, honest to God.’
    Rang off.
    Mr.’s Trent, the elderly secretary for James Malone, the accountant in Queens. I could
    have sworn it would have been the dentist.
    Never-no fookin-mind, we had the bollix, how could he have been so arrogant as to get
    his secretary to send the roses to Shona. I’d add a kick in the balls to his tab when we
    charged the fooker.
    I immediately rang Merrick at the hospital.
    He was on the point of being discharged. Said
    ‘You just got me buddy.’
    I said, trying to sound laid back, said
    ‘Break out that Brooklyn Beer.’
    ‘What?’
    The excitement beginning to leak in to my tone, I said
    ‘We’ve cracked it mate, it’s done, our first case together, it’s solved.’
    He was silent then
    ‘Holy fuck, you serious.’
    Told him.
    He said
    ‘I’d have figured the dentist.’
    I asked
    ‘So, when do we go, pick up the arse hole?’
    Merrick said
    ‘Whoa, take that chill pill buddy, I’m just getting out of hospital, I need to get home, see
    my wife, rest and…………….’
    Jesus.
    I said
    ‘Ok, right, sorry, so when?’
    Trying to keep the awful impatience out of my voice, I was getting a bad feeling. He
    sighed, said
    ‘Tomorrow, he’s not going anywhere, ok? You did great. Take Shona out, grab a brew,
    and CALM DOWN.’
    What?
    Did he just fookin shout?
    I asked
    ‘You pissed because I cracked it? That it?’
    A pause
    Then
    ‘Grow up Ryan, you can’t go rushing off like some crazy BASTARD, I’ll meet you
    tomorrow, round noon, the guy is going nowhere. You did good but you need to learn a
    little discretion.’
    I took a real deep breath then
    ‘Thanks Dad.’
    Slammed the phone down.
    I was so angry, I could spit.
    I did what you do.
    Treated meself to a 7-course meal.
    Irish style.
    Six pack and a potato.
    Replaced the potato with a bottle of Jameson.
    In my shithole apartment, seething, so close to out right violence, I had to bite down.
    I’d gone out, got supplies.
    Returning to my apartment, on the way up, carrying the booze, I met one of the stoner
    dudes, who lived below me. The weather was on the turn, already seriously cold. He was
    dressed in I shit thee not, a Hawaiian garish shirt that Magnum PI would have been proud
    of.
    Shorts, to the knee of his blinding white skinny legs. Didn’t he ever see the sun?’
    Sorry, the dope those guys took, it was always sunny.
    But he was more on planet earth than I’d expected, asked
    ‘Yo, my man, you hanging cool?’
    Went the joker from ’Dark Knight’
    ‘Why so serious?
    It’s almost