Detectives Log

By Farrell Mc Nulty

Published on Jul 21, 2005

Gay

Eddie had said "we're all okay". "So you're okay, too?" When he was hit, he screamed, grabbed his arm and went down pretty hard. A bullet grazed his arm and left some shrapnel in it. "Yeah, I was pretty lucky. It ain't my first and it ain't gonna be my last, either", he said with a grin. "I think if I'd been standing a couple of inches over here or there, that would've been it for me. I thought I'd just lie still for a little bit because I didn't wanna get it again. I think one's enough for a night, don't you? How's your shoulder?" "Good", I says, "one little slug ain't gonna keep me down. But, what's got me down is this hit-man thing I just took. It's gonna be pretty tricky." "What about checking who's recently out on parole for murder, ya know, from this area?" "Good thinking, but hired killer want ads always say NO EXPERIENCE REQUIRED. I don't want to cancel anyone out here." "Does this chick know where her husband hangs out, or anything? Maybe we can stake the place out and just sort of listen in on their conversations." Feeling like he was on a roll, Eddie leaned across the desk, rested his right arm on the desk, pointed at me with his left, and spoke in a half-whisper with this look of dogged determination in his eyes that just made me week in the knees. "If it's somethin' wrong you're doin', the secret's gonna get out somehow. Ya get nervous and distracted, really hard to keep your cool, cuz you really care a lot if this information gets into the wrong hands. At the same time we both said, "I just hope we're the wrong hands."

Next: Chapter 6


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