Merrick (4 page)

‘IF NIETZSCHE IS CORRCT THAT TO SHAME A MAN IS TO KILL HIM.

-CAMUS.

Merrick And I decided to walk to the subway, then he’d catch the train to Long

Island. We were back to talking about Gacy or who-the fook-ever he was. We

decided to pay a visit to one of the suspects the next day, and Merrick mused

‘Which one first?’

I said

‘Let’s flip a coin.’

We did and the dentist in Tribeca was first up.

He nodded, said

‘The Dice man.’

I went

‘

Who?’

He swore, said

‘Luke Reinhart, buddy, we’ve got to get you reading some books.’

I let that linger then

‘’Don’t sweat the small fings George.’

‘What?’

‘Michael Caine to Bob Hoskins in ‘Mona Lisa. We’ve got to get you watching

some movies mate.’

I could see the small smile touch his lips.

The walk was bracing, the night air clearing away some of the booze fumes.

Merrick asked me

‘So, when we pay our guy a visit, you want to be good or bad cop.?’

I didn’t answer for a time and he said

‘Come on, you guys worked that gig in The Guards?’

I said it was a little different. He pushed me so I said

‘Ok, there was the bad cop and there was the complete bollix.’

He laughed out loud.

He felt my sudden alertness, looked ahead, saw what I’d seen two beats before,

three guys, heading our way, fast and lethal. Merrick went

‘Uh-oh.’

The lead thug said

‘You ladies want to hand over your wallets.’

Merrick sighed, asked

‘You dumb fuck, can’t you see I’m carrying a weapon?’

The guy looked at his buddies, sneered

‘Yo, homes, you see this muttahfuck carrying anything more than a big stick?’

They laughed, the crystal meth one, high, like a hyena in grief, and merciless.

Then he reached in his windbreaker, pulled out a magnum, it looked big, ugly in

the light from the street, he said

‘Now me sweetcakes, I got me a serious piece of iron here.’

He guffawed again, and his crew joined in, major mistake, checking to see his

buddies appreciation. I saw Merrick take the moment to adopt the hitters slide

stance, balanced on his right foot, swung the hurley with all his force. I heard

bone crack and the magnum went sailing into the New York skyline. The guy

screamed

‘Goddamn son of a bitch, you gone broke my arm.’

He stared in disbelief at his shattered limb, a piece of white bone, visible. He

shouted at his crew

‘Take that asshole down homes, gut him like a bitch.’

One stepped forward with a long knife. Merrick balanced again but I stopped his

arm, asked

‘May I?’

The second guy had learned his knife skills from the movies, ie, all flash and no

skill. I let him lunge, even gave him a second feint, then kicked him in the balls,

using my knee to shatter his nose as he went down. The third guy was uncertain

what to do. The odds were not exactly shaping up. While he dithered, Merrick

said

‘For fuck’s sake, make up your goddamn mind.’

Took him out with a neat clip to the side of the head.

He wasn’t even out of breath, said

‘Christ, I needed that.’

He hefted the hurley in his large hands, said

‘This sucker has a fine balance.’

I said

‘Made from the ash.’

He laughed, went

‘Like I know what the hell that means.’

When we parted at the station, Merrick seemed like he might even hug me but I

blocked that, said

‘Whoa big guy, us Irish, we’re too macho for that shite.’

He laughed, clean and hard, asked

‘Where’d you learn to handle a knife guy?’

‘Bad neighborhood.’

‘Patrolled it, yeah?’’

‘Nope, we called it home.’

Not for the first time, he seemed about to say more but settled with

‘You’re a piece of work, you know that but I had me a fine full day.’

I agreed, said

‘And Galway won.’

Looked at his Hurley, added

‘Twice.’

SON OF SAM.

He stared at himself in the full length mirror, seeing what he had projected, a man of

Power

Wealth

And

Fame

Thank you the Rolling Stones.

He’d quickly tired of Berkovitz, Son of a Damn idiot more like. Had toyed with

the idea of

a……….The Zodiac.

b……….The green River Killer.

As a, had never been caught and b…………well, let’s say, the Jury was out still

on that baby.

The new name came.

Alton D. Brown.

He laughed out loud.

An amalgamation of Alton Coleman and Debra D. Brown. See how smart those Private

Dicks were.

And give a bit of showtime to those neglected folks. The duo, were believed to be guilty

of at least eight murders but then, who’s keeping score. Plus, abductions, beatings,

robbery thefts, sexual assaults of every hue. He shouted

‘My kind of party animals.’

He loved Brown’s un-repentant stance, in court she hollered

‘I killed the bitch and I don’t give a damn, I had fun out of it.’

Ah sweet thing, you had to love her.

As she awaited execution she wrote

‘I’m a more kind , understandable, lovable person than people think I am.’

‘Ditto.’

He exclaimed.

Struck him, he might just use the initials, be part of the zeitgeist where you were fucked

unless you were a an initial

.See

BLT

IRS

IRA

LOL

AND HIS FAVOURITE

DOA.

Plus, you got the added bonus of sounding like a Syndrome, which were hot shit now, so

ADB…………………..oh yeah, that was serious virus, lethal you might say.

He sighed, enough fun, he had a lot of work to do and first, was dump the latest wunder-

kind in the East River.

‘I WAS BORN WHERE THERE NO ENCLOSURES AND

EVERYTHING DREW A FREE BREATH. I WANT TO DIE THERE AND NOT

WITHIN WALLS.

TEN BEARS, COMANCHE, AT MIDICINE LODGE, 1867.

‘Thank you for the lovely roses.’

Shona said.

We were in at the restaurant in Central Park, enjoying late Winter sun, I was a-glow, as

we’d made love the evening before and Jesus Wept, it was brilliant.

Roses, the fook do I know from roses, asked

‘What?’

‘This morning, after you left, I was lying in bed, replaying…………um………you know,

stuff……

Gave a wicked smile

………….’And the flowers came, with a note, signed, ADB, I thought you’d tell me what

it stood for?’

I said

‘Wasn’t me alanna.’

Alanna…………what is that?’

I was trying to figure out the initials, stopped said

‘Alanna, it’s a term of deep endearment back home.’

Her smile was something to memorize, she asked

‘And is it, deep?’

We’d finished brunch and I was waiting for the cheque, only Americans could come up

with a full meal betwixt break fast and lunch. I said

‘Oh yeah,’

Meant it.

But she was a woman and what do they do?

Probe

Question

Push

She did

With

‘Why do you still wear your wedding band?’

Holy fook, you have a moment, intimate almost and a woman, she’d dissect it to frigging

death, till it loses all of it’s original meaning. I had already told her about the Cladding

wedding ring, the two hearts and how the really old one’s had a gold ring welded to the

original heart N’ Hand ring.

I said

‘The ring was my mother’s, passed down from nigh three generations of Claddagh

women.’

She liked it.

Took my hand, then using her left one, she slid the colored wrist band she always wore,

slipped it onto my wrist, said

‘Comanche.’

From fooking urban cowboy to Indian, you go to guess, God is taking the piss.

I said

‘Gur a mhile maith agat.’

Before she could ask, I added

‘Thank you in Irish.’

She liked it, a lot, asked

‘You want to hear some Comanche?’

I said

‘Weren’t those shrieks last night, a war cry?’

And she was about to be offended, but went with a lush vibrant laughter then nearly

marred it with

‘You have cop eyes.’

It was open air so I could smoke and simmer.

Lit a Lucky, exhaled slowly and she said

‘I’ve offended you.’

She had.

But what the fook, I lied, said

‘Just I don’t know what that shite means?’

She was still holding my hand, her band on my wrist catching the late evening sundown,

casting shadows that suddenly seemed ominous or maybe I just needed a Jameson, fast.

She squeezed my hand, said

‘Ryan, everything is not a threat, I meant, you are always vigilant, checking out every

exit, watching every person’s move.’

I tried to ease down a notch, said

‘Is bronach an athas ar fad.’

She looked at me so I translated

‘Happiness is my deepest sorrow.’

Might not always make sense but it was always, for me, true, more’s the fookin Irish-ed

pity.

She had called it right on one thing, I was afraid, afraid of the one thing I truly didn’t want

……………..to fall in love.

WITH A MERCY THAT OUTRIDES ALL OF WATER.

Merrick picked me up outside my apartment on our day of visiting the first suspect, he

was driving, I fookin kid you not, a pick up. I got in the shotgun seat, said

‘Jesus, if Hank Williams is playing, then I’m living the American dream.’

He’d been to Starbucks, handed me a piping hot latte, grande, asked

‘No sugar, right?’

I was surprised, said

‘You’ve a good memory.’

‘Naw, just a cop too long.’

A Gypsy cab came out of Flatbush, cutting us off with but a heartbeat to spare. Merrick

screeched on the brakes, and my coffee spilled on to my jeans, burning like a bastard. I

muttered

‘Oh motherfucking fuck.’

Merrick looked at me, asked

‘That’s Irish?’

I dabbed at the spreading stain, said

‘Tony Soprano.’

He watched the Gypsy cab disappear then wrote down the license plate. I asked

‘You going to see him later?’

He tossed the number in the back, said

‘I’d like to but no, one of my buddies on the Force, he’ll ream him a new one.’

I took a sip of what remained of my coffee, asked

‘A new what?

He laughed, said

‘I keep forgetting you don’t speak American, it means, ream him a new asshole.’

I said

‘Jesus, I thought we were bad.’

He asked

‘You good to go or want to go back, change your jeans?’

The stain wasn’t too bad, I hoped so I said

‘No, we believe it’s unlucky to turn back on a journey.’

He was maneuvering the tunnel into Manhattan, reaching for the toll, said

‘

Didn’t figure you for superstitious.’

I nearly laughed, my race?............said

‘It’s just we hedge our bets.’

He flicked the radio on, got a rock channel, we heard Don Henley

…………………The Innocence.

Killer.

I said

‘You’re always asking me about the Irish and yet, despite you saying I’m closed, you

give me fook all of your heritage.’

He seemed to be laughing at some inner joke, said

‘Maybe if you asked now and again, you’d get an answer.’

So I asked

‘What’s it like to be Jewish?’

He was gritting his teeth, at my question or the tailgating, I dunno…then

“ We used to be persecuted, but now.’

I waited and got …nothing

Asked

‘Now?’

He smiled

‘We’re hedging our bets.’

Out of nowhere, he asked

‘What about your old man, what was he like, A Guard too?’

I laughed, out loud, Jesus, said

‘Him, a Guard, what a fecking joke, like he had the balls to ever put himself on any firing

line. My mother said on the day we buried the spineless prick, she said

………………………….he never said anything bad about anybody.

Merrick was confused, asked

‘But that’s a good thing, yeah?’

I drained the coffee, wish I had more it, with a double shot of Jay, said

‘Made him a cute hoor is what oh and before you ask, a cute hoor is a sly bollix is what.’

Christ, was I hyperventilating, where’d that come from?’

Merrick said

‘Good you have a handle on it though.’

‘Don’t stop believing’ was blasting from the radio, he reached to turn it down, I asked

‘Don’t’

We waited for the song to reel on then I asked

‘

So, who’s up to today?’

He said

‘Tribeca, the dentist..’

I asked him about the initials, the one’s Shona received. He shook his head, said

‘Naw, I got nuttin.’

Then

‘Why?’

Told him.

Took him a moment, he went

‘Whoa, hold the goddamn phones, they were with the flowers that Shona got, , Holy shit,

you sent flowers,

you?’

I murmured

‘It wasn’t me.’

He was on it, loving it, went

‘Jesus H……the damn Fenian is a romantic and oh Mi God, you scored you did, didn’t

you?’

I was caught between delight and serious annoyance, not a comfortable place, said

‘Ok, calm down a fookin minute, let’s get back to those initials’

Nope.

The bad bollix wasn’t letting go, chanced at glance at my wrist, said

‘And you got the Indian band, man, you are so fucked.’

We were coming into Manhattan, he said

‘Buddy, I was going to keep this for later but this is big news and I swear to fuck, I’m

delighted, a miserable son of a bitch like you, grabbing him one of our very own

American princes.’

I was really tired of this and was about to launch when he reached in the back of the

truck, pulled out a long parcel, said

‘Enjoy bro.’

I thought, if this is a rifle, I may well have to shoot the bastard. Tore the wrapping off

To reveal

A baseball bat

Merrick said

‘The Louisville Slugger, the real deal.’

Nigh overwhelmed, I resorted to banter, asked

‘Did you get the Yankee’s to sign it?’

Given his loathing of said team, he mock reached, asked

‘You wanna test it out, now.’

Still moved and not knowing how to just say

‘Thank you.’

I stayed in flip territory, asked

‘Can I bring it with us to meet the dentist?’

He reached for it, tossed it in the back, said

‘This is by the book.’

He was getting out and I said

‘I’d be good, honest Injun.’

He wiped his bald dome, said

‘Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.’