This Is a Bust (38 page)

“So it's a good thing that we only single out the kids who
might be troublemakers.”

“You know the deal, Chow. We get a victim who identifies
someone in our unofficial mug books, they could land in a world of trouble. And they could be completely innocent, too.”

“They're all innoc
ent until proven guilty. Aren't they?”

English stood his ground. “Don't tell me how it's supposed
to be. You know how it is.”

“I suppose you're going to beg me not to quit.”

“I'm not going to beg you anything, Chow. I mean, either
way, I don't care. Innocent Chinese kids going to jail won't mess my sleep up at all. I just want to know if you care.

I think you do, because you took out Paul's picture.

“What's going to happen if Paul or someone like him gets
tagged on a bullshit charge? He can kiss college goodbye and any chance of having a real job.”

I tho
ught about Paul at my age, years from now, sitting 
in
a chair in Martha's, smoking a cigarette and looking 
for trouble.

“I was just cleaning m
y locker,” I said, kicking my box.
“I
wasn't going to quit.”

“Oh, and another thing. Who do you know, Chow?”

“What are you talking about?”

“We got o
rders from the top that because of your
investigative
assignments, you can't go to those opening-day ceremonies anymore. Too high-profile. You're strictly going to be on plainclothes duty going forward.”

“Doing more than just taking pictures, right?”

“Yeah, don't worry. We've got more action than you can
handle. You can even work with Vandyne, again. Anyway, the Brow wants to see you. He's ready to take your head off.”

“I
don't want to see that guy. It's bad enough hanging out
and talking with you.”

“Let
me tell you something, Chow,” said English. “I think you
have a bad attitude and lousy hygiene, but I wasn't the guy holding you back from detective track.”

“Like hell,” I said.

“Hey,” he said, crossing his arms. “It was the Brow. He kept
telling me I couldn't put anything else on your plate.”

I
thought about that for a moment. Another thought hit me.

“English,” I said. “How did you know it was me who ripped
out Paul's picture from the mug books?”

He smiled. “The other guys, if they found out that someone
was really
a good kid, they wouldn't have bothered to take out his picture.”

—

The Brow was cleaning out the bowl of his pipe with the sharp end of a metal envelope opener. His blue eyes flashed up at me and went off to the side.

“I sup
pose your banquet was your last public event for us,
Mr. Chow.”

“Now I know why I never got those investigative
assignments.”

“Given the easiest most mindless task in the world,” he said
through gritted teeth. “Eat, drink, and make merry for the cameras. Still, you managed to make a mess of everything.”

“I've been your little soldier boy long enough,” I said,
pointing
to the woodcut print of Andrew Jackson on his wall. “I'm not shining your boots anymore.”

He threw his pipe into the corner and pointed at me
menacingly with the letter opener.

“You're nobody, Chow! You think you're above and beyond
walking a simple beat now! You think you're going to get

a gold shield!”

“Someday, yeah.”

“You'll not see smiling eyes ever again from this mick!
When I see you, you'll get nothing but hate, and more than you can stand!”

“When I'm in civvies,” I said slowly and evenly, “you won't
even recognize me from the
other chinks in the street.”

—

On the street, the smell of freshly laid-out garbage hit me. You could see the drizzling rain against the glow of the streetlamps, but it was almost too light to feel.

I shifted the box I was carrying from one side to the other.
I had decided to
take home all the baseball caps that had been crammed in my locker. Paul might like them.

The rain
got harder. I put the box down on my feet and
zipped up my coat. A wet cat ran by.

The light was on in my apartment window.
Paul was home.

I had to call Lonnie and tell her I wasn't going to be going to
any more dumbass dinners. The pay would still be the same in the near term, but it was still a step up for me. Probably my first step up ever.

I got into the lobby and looked for my mail on the radiator,
but there wasn't any because Paul had already grabbed it.

I ra
ked some fingers through my soaked hair. Then I hoisted
the box onto my shoulder and went upstairs to see if I had gotten something good.