The Rat On Fire Part 11

When the door was closed, Roscommon turned around and leaned his back against it. He rocked back upon his heels and clasped his hands at his crotch.

Sweeney got up. "You can have my chair, Loot," he said.

Roscommon did not look at him. He looked at Dannaher, who had two days' grizzle of beard and wore a dirty s.h.i.+rt and continued to gaze at the gray metal table and the floor. "Don't want it, Mike, thanks."

"Well, Jimma," Roscommon said. "Good tah see ya again."

Dannaher did not say anything.

"Your old pal, Jimma, Roscommon. Remember me?"

Dannaher continued to study the table and the floor.

"Sure you do," Roscommon said. "You remember your old pal, John Roscommon. We known each other for years. Aren't you gonna say h.e.l.lo to your old pal, John Roscommon?"

Dannaher shook his head. Roscommon rocked on his heels twice. "Jimma, Jimma," he said, "this is no way to greet an old friend that you met long ago when he put you in jail for the first time. Wasn't I decent to you, Jimma? Didn't I tell you, when I collared you, your next step was going to be the place where they're so concerned about whether you get nightmares that they keep guards around all night, make sure the bears don't get you? Didn't I tell you that, Jimma? And wasn't I right? Didn't you get a nice room and all that protection from the bears because of me? Tell the truth now, Jimma. Isn't that so?"

Dannaher mumbled, "I know my rights. I don't have to say nothin'."

"Ahh, Jimma, Jimma," Roscommon said. "See what happens when you get out someplace where there's n.o.body to protect you from the bears and you start in to drinking with Clinker Carroll again? See what happens when you're left on your own? You've been down to Danny's all day, I bet, drinking a ball and a beer with Clinker and talkin' about the old times. You're half in the bag, Jimma. You need somebody to take care of you, protect you from the bears."

"Isn't," Dannaher said, "isn't no crime, I can have a few drinks."

" 'Course it isn't," Roscommon said. "You can have a few drinks with the Clinker and you can drink some coffee with Leo. No crime in that."

"I don't have to say nothin'," Dannaher said. "I want my lawyer. I wanna see Tiger Mike Fogarty."

"Sure," Roscommon said, "and I bet you want to see him in private, too. With n.o.body listening."

Dannaher nodded.

"And you're gonna," Roscommon said. "You are gonna see a lot of Tiger Mike in private, for a while. Then you are probably gonna see him in public for a week or two. See him while he's tryin', get you off on murder one."

Dannaher looked up, fast. "I didn't kill n.o.body," he said.

Roscommon said, "Jimma, Jimma, you know the law. Accessory before the fact? Charged as a princ.i.p.al? You helped Leo Proctor burn down Fein's apartment house. Charged as a princ.i.p.al. Kid died as a result of that fire. You're going, Jimma. You're going away, and you're going away a long time."

"I didn't have nothing to do with that fire," Dannaher said. "Leo did that. I stayed completely away from Leo. I dunno what Leo did."

"You know some of the things Leo did," Roscommon said. "You know a lot of the things Leo did. You had some long conversations with him."

"I did not," Dannaher said.

"You want some Danish down at the Scandinavian, Jimma?" Roscommon said. "These guys can get it for you. They know right where it is, from tailing you and Leo so many nights and listening to what you had to say. Ask Sweeney and Carbone, they don't know about the Danish."

"I got a right to remain silent," Dannaher said.

"You bet you have," Roscommon said. "You also got a right to remain out of circulation for fifteen or sixteen years of a life sentence for murder. But that comes after Tiger Mike goes through his regular performance of trying to win a hopeless case, and that won't be for a while yet. So right now we'll just give you your right to remain silent, and alone, and you can go down to the holding room and call Fogarty and tell his secretary you got to see him right off, and she will tell you that she'll have him come over here as soon as he finishes in Middles.e.x today, and that all will give you some time to think. About Murder One. Sweeney, cart him down. Carbone, come with me."

"AW RIGHT," Roscommon said to Carbone in Roscommon's office, "what the G.o.dd.a.m.ned f.u.c.k happened? Didn't I tell you to keep the c.o.c.ksucker Proctor under surveillance?"

"Yessir," Carbone said.

"And you didn't," Roscommon said.

"Nosir," Carbone said.

"What is it that I am doing around here?" Roscommon said. "Am I talking to my G.o.dd.a.m.ned self?"

"Lieutenant," Carbone said, "I made a mistake."

"Well," Roscommon said, "that's the first time I ever heard that excuse. Of course a kid is dead, and a lot of people lost everything they own, and the AG is all over me like a rash and a wet towel and a new suit all at once, because those folks happened to be unwhite, but even though I am not enjoying this whole matter very much, I got to admit this is the first time I ever nailed an investigator for booting one, and he came right out and said he booted it. You have my full attention, Donald."

"I watched his G.o.dd.a.m.ned house, Lieutenant," Carbone said. "I watched his G.o.dd.a.m.ned car. His van. I started watching when it was still dark this morning. The minute that son of a b.i.t.c.h moved, I was after him.

"The trouble is, I was out in front with the van, watching it, and he apparently went out the back and left the van there. I don't know how the f.u.c.k he got to Bristol Road. He must've had a car stashed on the other side of the alley, and gone in that. By the time I figured out he must be gone, since he always comes out before nine in the morning, he was out.

" 'Oh, my G.o.d,' I said to myself, 'this is the day he's gonna do it.' I call Sweeney and he's watching Fein. Fein's just leaving his house. Tuck Fein,' I say."

"Not supposed to use that kind of talk on the air," Roscommon said.

"Not supposed to get in the kind of situation where you use that kind of talk on the air," Carbone said. "I did. Told Sweeney, forget the landlord and haul a.s.s to Bristol. I'll meet him there. Sweeney tells me, forget meeting, he's closer to Bristol, I should go find Dannaher. Which is what I did. Took me a while, but I did it."

"He say anything yet?" Roscommon said. "Because once Tiger Mike gets here and has a little chat with him, he isn't going to. Mike'll get somebody else to represent Dannaher, and Fein'll have his own guy, and Proctor'll have Mike and that'll be the end of it."

"Not a f.u.c.king thing," Carbone said.

"s.h.i.+t," Roscommon said.

"The only thing he said was, I didn't really understand it," Carbone said, "but what he said was did we know how the fire started, and I said it was still too hot for the fire marshals to go in, but it looked like it was wiring to them. And he said, 'Leo lit the rats off.' "

"Where is Leo this fine afternoon," Roscommon said.

"In the holding pen," Carbone said. "They picked him up when he came out of his house for the second time, around one this afternoon."

"Leo, my friend," Roscommon said to Proctor in the holding pen, "it's been too long between conversations."

"Yeah," Proctor said.

"Leo, my friend," Roscommon said, "Jimma Dannaher says that you've been being mean to rats."

"That son of a b.i.t.c.h," Proctor said, "he ducks out on me and I can't find him when I need him? That son of a b.i.t.c.h."

"Is it true, Leo?" Roscommon said. "Is it true that you've been being mean to rats."

"That son of a b.i.t.c.h," Proctor said.

"You know me, Leo," Roscommon said. "I am always kind to animals myself. I, for example, would not even hurt a rat, if I had a choice."

"No," Proctor said.

"Particularly," Roscommon said, "if the rat knew something about a first-degree murder case."

"You wanna talk?" Proctor said.

"That was my hope," Roscommon said. "That was my hope. Leave us talk about some rats, and a lawyer and maybe even a cop."

"Cop?" Proctor said.

"Leo, Leo," Roscommon said, "how'd you like a Danish, one of the prune Danish down the Scandinavian Pastry?"

"I never got but one of those Danish," Proctor said.

"I know," Roscommon said. "But I am gonna get that cop."

"I know," Proctor said.

ALSO BY GEORGE V. HIGGINS.

The Friends of Eddie Coyle (1972).

The Digger's Game (1973).

Cogan's Trade (1974).

A City on a Hill (1975).

The Friends of Richard Nixon (1975).

The Judgment of Deke Hunter (1976).

Dreamland (1977).

A Year or So with Edgar (1979).

Kennedy for the Defense (1980).