Piece of the Action (43 page)

“Oh,” Kate said, “I get it. Dennis the Menace.”

T
HEY WERE IN EACH
other’s arms before they made it to the fourth-floor landing. They held each other fiercely, mouths joined, eyes closed. As if they could live entirely in an animal present. As if they could live without regret for the past or fear of the future. As if they could rid themselves of the pain of their separation by squeezing it out like a tube of toothpaste.

Moodrow found himself beyond thought, beyond even the desire for thought. He could feel Kate’s heart beating through their bulky overcoats. It seemed to beat inside his skull, driving away every other consideration. No more Jake Leibowitz or Pat Cohan. The concrete steps, the narrow steel railing, the freezing streets, the whores, the junkies and the jack rollers: the whole stinking miserable history of the Lower East Side of New York City vanished in an instant.

Minutes later, Moodrow heard a deep groan, an exhalation of equally mixed loss and gain. It took him another moment to realize that he was doing the groaning. And that Kate’s hands were inside his jacket, her fingers cupping the long muscles running along his ribs, her lips pressed to his chest.

He was supposed to sweep her up in his arms and he knew it. He was supposed to carry her across the threshold, to lay her gently on his bed, to play the leading man. Instead, he pulled away from her and asked a question.

“Kate, are you sure?”

He wasn’t asking just about Inspector Pat Cohan. He was asking about Father Ryan and Sacred Heart Church and a lifetime in suburbia. He was talking about every facet of her life.

“No,” she admitted. “No. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to think about it. I’ve been thinking and thinking and thinking. It doesn’t get me any place. You can’t stay up in the air. You have to come down and do something.”

They made their way to Moodrow’s apartment in silence. The silence seemed right to Moodrow, but still, once inside, once their coats were off and draped over the back of the couch, he couldn’t stop himself from speaking. Despite the fact that he knew he might be tossing away the finest moment of his life.

“Kate,” he began. “Kate … do you, uh … do you want coffee or something?”

It was an astonishingly dumb thing to say and he knew it.

“Isn’t it a little late for coffee?” Kate answered, without letting go of his hand. She looked up at him for a moment, then grinned and punched him in the stomach. “If you don’t smile,” she said, “I’m gonna cry.”

Moodrow managed a quick grin. “Let’s sit down.”

“Yes, I guess we have to talk.” Kate sat on the couch, pulling Moodrow down alongside her. “Your friend, Greta, is a pretty amazing person. Was your mother like her?”

“Greta has a lot in common with most of the women who live down here. Tough times, tough women.”

Kate looked up at Moodrow for a moment. Her gaze was sharply speculative. “I guess I’m learning, Stanley. My father retired today.”

“I didn’t know that.” Moodrow’s surprise was evident. “Did he say why?”

“He gave me a speech about how hard it was for the Irish when they first came here. And about how they’re losing what it took a hundred years to gain. ‘It’s not my Department anymore.’ That’s what he said. I didn’t believe him, so I came down here to find out for myself. It was stupid not to call first.”

“How did Greta happen to find you?”

“She was bringing you some food. Potato
something.
I didn’t understand her when she told me. She repeated it, but I still didn’t understand, so I let it drop.”

“Potato
lathes.
It means ‘pancakes.’ ”

“She makes pancakes out of potatoes?”

“Yeah. It just goes to prove there
are
things you can do with a potato besides boiling it. Being Irish, you wouldn’t know that.”

Kate giggled, then turned serious again. “I was a real sap, Stanley. I feel like a yokel who just bought the Brooklyn Bridge. Maybe I had some doubt when I got here, but after sitting in Greta’s kitchen all night, I know the truth.” She looked up at him. “You got sucked into this, didn’t you? It wasn’t something you wanted.”

“That’s for sure.” Moodrow shook his head slowly. He could feel the tension beginning to ease. Kate was leaning against his chest; his arm was around her shoulder. “But sometimes you have to do what’s right. Especially when Greta Bloom gets on your case. The job’s pretty corrupt, Kate. Most of the guys are on the take, especially the brass. I don’t wanna get too righteous about it, because as far as I can tell, it’s always been that way. But homicide is something else. I couldn’t let it go and neither could your father. It’s been a war zone down here ever since Luis Melenguez was murdered. Your father had a lot to do with that.”

“Well, he’s out of it, now.” She hesitated, letting her eyes drop to her lap. “I made a decision while I was sitting down at Greta’s. I decided not to ask you this question and now I’m asking it anyway. What are you going to do to my father?”

“Probably nothing. I don’t have the kind of evidence that can be used against your father in court and now that he’s retired, it can’t be used by the Department, either. That’s probably why he handed in his papers.” Moodrow slid his index finger beneath Kate’s chin and pulled her head up gently. “I never went after him. I never deliberately went after your father, but I had to protect myself. What I’m talking about is survival, before and after Luis Melenguez’s killer pays the price.”

Kate nodded. “Are you going to get him? The killer?”

“His name’s Jake Leibowitz and I’m right on top of him. It’s just a matter of time. The whole precinct’s after him. It seems that the Department brass, in their infinite wisdom, have decided that Jake Leibowitz must go. What they’re doing is protecting themselves. They
say
they’re protecting the Department, but it’s their own butts they’re worried about. I have to make them understand that they can best protect themselves by protecting me.”

“That’s going to be a neat trick.” Kate laid her hand on his knee and drew a rough circle with her fingertips. “Have you given any thought to what you’ll do with your life if you lose the Department?”

“None.”

“Have you given any thought to what you’ll do if you lose me?”

“That’s the $64,000 Question, isn’t it? Maybe I should have taken my shot ten minutes ago.”

“Is that because you think the answer isn’t something I want to hear?”

“It’s because the answer doesn’t make anybody happy, including me.” Moodrow abruptly stopped speaking. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then turned back to Kate and drew a deep breath. “There are times in your life when you wake up for a moment and realize you’re a big dope. That you’ve been a dope for so long it’s as natural as combing your hair. That’s part of what it’s about. Somewhere along the line I decided that I wanted a
gold
shield. An ordinary badge wasn’t good enough. It had to be gold for a big shot like me.”

“It’s not wrong to want to get ahead, Stanley. It’s natural. It’s what
everybody
wants.”

“That’s just it. I decided to become a detective, because I
didn’t
want to be like everyone else. When I was in high school, all I could think about was becoming heavyweight champion of the world. I didn’t think about the price. Not for one minute. The same thing happened when I joined the Department. I didn’t give up the kid’s dream. No, I decided I wanted to be a detective and I used my face to get it. These last few weeks? Every time I look in the mirror and see the scars, I think about what a dope I was. Let me tell you something, Kate, the price wasn’t long in coming. Your father put me to work learning the price from day number one.”

Kate put a finger to his mouth. She was smiling. “I bet I know what happened next.”

“What?”

“Greta Bloom happened next.”

Moodrow leaned forward and kissed her lightly. “You get a gold star.”

Kate grabbed hold of his ear and held him in place while she explored his mouth with her own. “One star isn’t enough for an ambitious young lady like myself. I want the whole galaxy.”

“Are you sure, Kate?” What he wanted to do was run his finger down along her throat, to unbutton her blouse and press his head between her breasts. “My galaxy isn’t very big. It runs south to Canal Street and north to Fourteenth. It’s got the river on the east and the Bowery on the west. Like I said, it’s not very big, but it’s mine and I’m not gonna leave it. Not without a fight. See, the thing of it is I never meant for any of this to happen. Greta came up one morning and asked me to check on a homicide that’d happened while I was in training for the O’Grady fight. Her visit was step one in the process of learning that I was a dope and it was an innocent step. Nothing more than a favor for an old friend. After that, it just happened.”

Kate stood up abruptly. “I guess I could say the same thing about myself. Everything I value just happened. Everything the nuns told me; everything my father told me. I bought the whole package, all nine yards. Of
course,
I wanted you to get ahead. I wanted you to come out to Bayside, to leave the slums and … It was a joke and the joke was on me. I really believed that an ordinary detective could afford to live in Bayside. Why shouldn’t my father have a big house and a new car every two years? Why shouldn’t we put down new carpeting before the old carpeting wore out? You want a piano? Go out and buy it. A mahogany bedroom set? A finished basement? A vacation in Havana?”

“I get the point, Kate, but the question is what do you want to do about it?”

She answered by walking toward the bedroom. “What I want to do is change. Hell, Stanley, I already
have
changed. When I think about that jerk, Father Ryan, and his sadistic penance, and that I actually went through with it, I want to throw up. I’m twenty-two years old and I’m tired of being a little girl.”

It was late and, as in most New York tenements, the landlord wasn’t sending up much heat. They huddled together beneath the blankets and Moodrow, determined to go slowly, let his finger drift over Kate’s breasts, let them trail along the smooth, flat plane of her belly, let them caress the outside of her leg down to the knee, then crawl along the ribbon-smooth flesh of her inner thigh.

“Jesus, Kate,” he whispered. “I never dreamed this would happen again.”

Instead of answering, Kate swung up to straddle his hips. She leaned forward, the expression on her face at once determined and fierce. Holding him in her hand for a moment before sliding down to envelop him.

Moodrow’s decision to go slowly was lost in a moment, as was the entire decision-making process. Thinking about it later, he decided that what they’d done was fuck. That the act was purely physical, despite the fact that afterwards, his breath coming in long deep heaves, he could literally feel the bond between them as it tightened. Their union, he realized, had been more elemental than love. It might even be stronger, though he couldn’t be sure of that. Time would tell.

They hadn’t slept very much when Moodrow glanced over at the clock, noted that it was 6:10, and rolled out of bed. He looked down at Kate for a moment, then gently shook her.

“Kate, Kate.”

“Not again, Stanley,” she muttered. “I’m too old.”

Moodrow flipped on a bedside lamp and shook her more roughly. “It’s six o’clock, Kate, and I have to get ready to leave. What are you gonna do about work? You want me to set the alarm?”

Kate sat up and Moodrow found his eyes drawn to her breasts the way a shopkeeper’s eyes are drawn to the barrel of a shotgun. At that moment, her beauty was almost frightening. To lose her and gain her and then lose her again …

“I’ll have coffee with you before you go,” Kate said. “Just let me use the bathroom.”

“As soon as I finish.”

“Why should you go first?” Kate was smiling as she said it.

“Because I’m closer.”

Fifteen minutes later, Moodrow poured out two cups of steaming coffee, setting one in front of Kate and sipping at the other.

“We haven’t talked about what you want to do,” he said.

“I want to stay here,” Kate answered quickly. “If you’ll have me.”

“Well, I don’t know, Kate. It seems to me like I already
had
you.”

“You never change, Stanley.” Kate shook her head. “Thank God.”

“Actually, we’ve
both
changed. No matter what happens, neither of us can go back to your father. Not anymore. But that doesn’t put Jake Leibowitz behind bars, does it? I’ve gotta get going. You know how it is, right?”

“I’m a cop’s daughter, remember?”

Moodrow nodded solemnly. “All things considered, I don’t think I’m likely to forget. What time do you have to be at work?”

“I’m going to call in sick today. I may call in sick permanently.”

“Are you serious?”

Kate looked down at the table, her expression almost shy. “It’s too far away. I thought I might find something on the Lower East Side.”

“You sure you can live down here?”

“I don’t know if ‘sure’ is the right word for it, but I was talking to Greta last night and she offered to show me around the neighborhood. Let me ask you something, Stanley. Does Greta tell the truth? Some of her stories are pretty unbelievable.”

Moodrow walked around to Kate’s side of the table. “Well, I’ve never caught her in a lie.” He leaned over and kissed her on the lips, letting his hands slide down to cover her breasts, then abruptly stood up.

“Wait a minute, I just had an idea. I just had a
great
idea. Do me a favor, Kate. You tell Greta that I want to see her when I get back this afternoon. Tell her there’s something I need to talk to her about.”

“Stanley,” Kate said, grabbing onto both of his hands, “she’s harmless. She’s an old lady.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“I thought you were angry because she’s interfering in our lives.”

Moodrow giggled, then covered his mouth with his hand. “Even if I was sore about that, I wouldn’t waste my time trying to change her. Not Greta Bloom. I’d get better results waving a fan at a blizzard. No, I think I just came up with a way Greta can help me get to Jake Leibowitz. But don’t tell her that. Just ask her if she can take a few minutes out of her busy schedule to talk to me. I wanna figure out exactly what I’m gonna say before she hears about it. Capish?”