The Dangerous Days

I lit up a cigar and sucked deep

Stake-outs had a habit of grating on me. They were long, they were boring, and they damn near turned you insane. Not the kind of insanity that sends a man rampant with his sidearm. No, it was the kind that could only be found at the bottom of a glass. I’d known guys with double my resolve that ended up lost in the bottle. It was a killer. But then I guess it helped when you had nothing to live for.

I had fallen on hard times: up to my ears in alimony and only dead cases were passing my desk. I missed the old days, the sweet days: the dangerous days. Nobody bought into the tough guy-former cop routine anymore. They just tried to buy you out, meaning I was the only guy in New York who kept his nose clean. And even I fought dirty. A mean left hook left over from my boxing days was just itching to crack jaw.

The waitress asked if I wanted a refill and I had no choice but to say yes. The kid was a pretty little thing, barely out of high school; an innocent blonde with wide blue eyes, curves just filling out. I had to stop and tell myself, think pure thoughts, old man.

She’s probably here to pay off expensive college fees. If she’s lucky, she’ll make it through with only a bitter taste in her mouth. If not, well, let’s not go down that path. I imagined her self respect was somewhere in the gutter right now, along with the minds of the filth leering at her. That’s what this city does to the innocent, takes them in and chews them right back out.

And I was just waiting for the executive lounge to chew someone right out onto my lap. I could make out my guy through the filthy haze. Boy was he gonna get a grilling. The old one-two, turn him black and blue.

But before I got the chance to think about how I was really going to work on him, a shadow cast itself over me…