Chapter 10 chapter Ten

He said, "You still think I killed her, don't you?" "Does it matter what I think?" "is very important to me." I borrowed a line from Durkin: "No one hired me to think." We sat in a booth in the back of a coffee shop a few storefronts away on Eighth Avenue.Nothing was added to my coffee.His was just a little lighter than his skin tone.I also asked for an English toast muffin as I wanted something to eat but didn't bother to touch it. "I didn't do it," he said. "Ok." "I had what you call a 'strong alibi'. A whole room of people could testify about the time of my night. I wasn't even near that hotel."

"It is very convenient." "What do you mean?" "It means whatever you want." "You mean I buy murder?" I shrugged.Sitting across the table from him, I felt a little restless, but I was even more tired.I am not afraid of him. "Maybe I could. But I don't." "You can say what you want." "Damn it," he said, taking a sip of his coffee, "you have a deeper relationship with her than you let on that night?" "No." "Just a friend of a friend?" "That's right." — Stick School · E Book Group —

He looked at me, his eyes blazed into mine. "You slept with her," he said. Before I could answer, he said, "Of course, that's it. How can she thank you? This woman only speaks one language. Hope that's not the only pay you get, Scudder. I hope she doesn't just sell Meat thank you." "My compensation is my business," I said, "and our business is my business." He nodded: "I just want to find out where you came from, that's all." "I have no origin and no destination. I completed a job and I got paid in full. Now the customer is dead, I have nothing to do with it, and I have nothing to do with it. You say you have nothing to do with Her death had nothing to do with it, that may be true, maybe it wasn't. I don't know, I don't have to know, I honestly don't give a damn. That's between you and the police. I'm not the police."

"You were." "But not anymore. I'm not a cop, or a dead girl's brother, or an avenging angel with a flaming sword. You think it matters to me who kills Kim Duckinen? You think I give the fuck? " "right." I stare at him. He said, "Yeah, I think it's important to you. I think you care who killed her. That's why I'm here." He smiled softly. "Look," he said, "I want Hiring you, Mr. Matthew Scudder. I want you to find her murderer." It took me a while to believe he was serious, and I did my best to dissuade him from the idea.If there are really clues to track down the murderer of Jin, I told him that the police have a better chance of doing it.They have the power, manpower, talent, connections and technology they need.And I have nothing.

"You forgot one thing," he said. "Oh?" "They're not going to find out. They think they already know who killed her. But they can't find evidence, so there's nothing they can do, and that's just an excuse for them not to go all out. They'll say: 'Well, we know it was Chance killed her, but there's no evidence, let's move on to another case.' God knows if they have that many other cases to do. If they do have this case, they're just trying to get it on me over her head. They don't even think about whether anyone else has a reason to want her dead."

"Like who?" "It's up to you to check." "why?" "For the money," he laughed again, "I won't let you do it for nothing. I've got a lot of money, all in cash. I'll pay a good price." "That's not what I mean. Why do you want me to do this case? Why do you want to find the murderer - assuming I can find him? That won't get you out of trouble, because you don't. The police can't find you Unfavorable evidence is impossible to find. If the case is hanging there, what is it against you?" His gaze is calm but determined: "Maybe my reputation is what I care about," he said.

"Why? In my opinion, your reputation has improved. If there are rumors that you killed her and got away with it, then other girls who want to get rid of you will have to think about it. Even if you have nothing to do with her death, I think you would be willing to be misunderstood, too." He flicked the empty coffee mug twice with his index finger and said, "Someone killed my girl. No one can do it and get away with it." "She was no longer yours when she was killed." "Who knows? You know, she knows, and I know. My other girls, do they know? Do the people in the bar and on the street know? The people out there just know that one of my girls was killed and the killer was unharmed .”

"That damaged your reputation?" "I don't see how it's going to do my reputation any favors. Also, my girls will be scared. Kim was killed and the killer is still on the loose. What if he does it all over again?" "Kill another whore?" "Another one of mine," he said in a steady voice, "Scudder, the one with the gun, and I don't know who he's after. Maybe Kim was someone trying to set me up. Maybe my other A girl is his next target. All I know is that my business has been damaged. I told my girls not to be called to any hotels, this is only the first step, if there is any new client who is strange, Just don't pick it up. It's tantamount to putting them out of business."

The waiter turned around with a pot of coffee and refilled our glasses.I haven't touched my English muffin yet and the melted cream on top is starting to clot.I asked him to take the muffins away.Chance adds creamer to his coffee.I thought of sitting with Kim and how she filled her coffee with lots of milk and sugar. I asked, "Chance, why are you looking for me?" "I told you. The police don't want to go all out. If you want someone to work, you have to pay him." "There are other private detectives. You can hire a whole detective agency and have them work for you day and night."

"I've never been a fan of team sports. I'd rather watch it alone. Besides, you know the inside story. You know King." "Is this useful?" "And I know you." "Because we met once?" "And I like your style. That's important, too." "Really? The only thing you know about me is that I'm good at boxing. That's not a lot." "That's important. But I know more than that. I know the way you do things. You know, I've asked. A lot of people know you, a lot of them think well of you." I pondered for a minute or two, then said, "The one who killed her was probably a lunatic. That's why the scene is made that way, and maybe that's what it is."

"Friday I know she's quitting, Saturday I tell her it's okay. On Sunday some crazy guy from Indiana chopped her up. Is it just a coincidence? What do you think?" "Coincidences happen all the time," I said, "but no, I don't think they're coincidences." God, I'm so tired.I said, "I don't really want to take this case." "Why?" - Stick School · E Book Group - I thought about it because I didn't want to do anything.I want to sit in a dark corner, shut off from the world.Fuck, I want to drink. "You always need money," he said. This is true.The fee I earned last time won't last long.My son Mickey still has to buy dental trays, and then there are other uses for the money. I said, "I'll have to think about it." "Ok." "I can't concentrate right now. I need a moment to get my head around." "how long?" Months, I thought to myself. "Two or three hours. I'll call you tonight. Can I reach you directly, or just call the contact station?" "Set a time," he said, "and I'll meet you in front of your hotel." "You don't have to do that." "It's much easier to say no on the phone. I think the interview is more secure. Besides, if you say yes, we'll have to talk more. And you need me to give you some money first." I shrugged. "Choose a time." "Ten o'clock?" "In front of your hotel." "Well," I said, "if I had to answer now it would be no." "Then you'd better wait until ten o'clock." He paid for the coffee.I didn't fight to pay the bill.I went back to my hotel room and tried to meditate, but couldn't.I couldn't even sit still for a while.I kept walking from the bed to the chair and back again, wondering why I didn't turn him down right away.Now I have to stay up until ten o'clock, and then make up my mind to refuse his request. Before I thought about it, I put my hat on, put on my clothes, and went around the corner to Armstrong's.I walked in the door and didn't know what to ask for.At the bar, Billy started shaking his head as soon as he saw me. He said, "I can't sell you alcohol, Matthew. I'm sorry." I felt my face flush with embarrassment and anger. I said, "What did you say? Does it look like I'm insane to you?" "Not like." "Then why the hell am I not welcome here?" He avoids my gaze. "I didn't make the rules," he said. "I didn't say you weren't welcome here. Coffee, Coke, dinner, hell, you're a valued customer. But I can't sell you alcohol." "Who said this?" "Boss. When you were here that night—" oh god.I said, "I'm sorry, Billy. To tell you the truth, I've had a rough couple of nights. I didn't even know I'd been here." "Don't take it to heart." Jesus Christ, I want to dig a hole and get in. "Did I play badly that night? Did I get in trouble?" "Ah, hell," he said, "you're drunk, you know? It's inevitable, isn't it? I used to have an Irish landlady, and I'd go home drunk at night and apologize to her the next day, and she'd say : 'God forbid, boy, bishops make mistakes like that'. You're in no trouble, Matthew." "That--" "Look," he said, leaning forward, "I'm just repeating what the boss said. He said to me, if the guy wants to get drunk himself, I don't care. If he wants to come here, we're welcome, but I don't sell him alcohol .That's not what I said, Matthew. I'm just repeating what he said." "I understand." "If I had—" "Anyway, I'm not here for the drink," I said, "I'm here for the coffee." "In this case--" "If that's the case," I said, "in that case, I guess what I want is wine, and it won't be hard to find someone who'll sell me it." "Matthew, don't do that." "Don't tell me what to do," I said, "stop talking nonsense to me." My anger has a cleansing effect that satisfies me.I stalked out of there, pissed off, and stood on the sidewalk contemplating where to drink.Someone called my name.I turn around.A man in an old army jacket was smiling mildly at me.At first I couldn't remember who he was.He said he was very happy to see me, and asked me how I was doing, that's when I thought of him. I said, "Oh, hi, Jim. I'm fine." "Going to a party? I'll come with you." "Oh," I said, "I'm afraid not tonight. I have to see someone." He is still laughing.On a whim, I asked him if his last name was Faber. "That's right," he said. "You called my hotel." "Just wanted to say hello. Nothing urgent." "I didn't recognize the name. Otherwise I'd call you back." "Of course. You really don't want to go to the party, Matthew?" "I wish I could. Oh God." He waits. "I'm in some trouble, Jim." "You know, that's normal." I couldn't look at him and said, "I'm drinking again. I'm holding on, I don't know, seven or eight days. And then I'm drinking again, and I'm doing okay, you know, controlling my drinking. And then, One night, I ran into trouble." "You got into trouble with your first drink." "I don't know, maybe." "That's why I called," he said mildly, "I thought you might need a little help." "you know?" "Well, you looked emotionally unstable at the party on Monday night." "at party?" "You don't remember, do you? I think you're drunk and unconscious." "Oh my God." "What's wrong?" "Did I go there drunk? Did I show up at an AA meeting drunk?" He laughed. "You make that like a capital offense. Do you think you're the first to do it?" I really want to die. "That's too bad," I said. "What's so bad?" "I'm never going there again. I can't step into that room again." "You feel ashamed, don't you?" "certainly." He nodded. "I'm always ashamed of my drunken amnesia. I don't want to, dare not know what I've done. But overall, you're not doing too badly. You're not in trouble. You're not messing up." Talking, just spilled a cup of coffee—” "Oh, God." ——Bammer School·E Book Group— "You didn't spill it on anyone. You were just drunk, that's all. You seemed unhappy that night. In fact, you looked miserable." I mustered up the courage to say, "I was taken to the hospital." "Have you been discharged from the hospital?" "I was discharged this afternoon. I was admitted to the hospital with generalized spasms." "Fortunately, you're all right." We walked for a while in silence. I said, "I can't wait until the meeting is over and I have to go. I have a meeting at ten." "You can leave earlier." "Also." I feel like everyone is staring at me.Some people greet me and I think they mean something.The others didn't say anything, and I figured they were avoiding me because I offended them while drunk. I was so neurotic that I wanted to get out of my shell. When speaking freely, I couldn't sit still.I kept going to the coffee machine to pour coffee.I'm sure I've grown resentful from my constant running to the coffee machine, but the coffee machine seems to have a strong pull that I can't resist. My mind wanders all the time.The speaker was a Brooklyn firefighter, and the story was vivid and interesting, but I just couldn't pay attention.He said that their fire brigade has a huge number of firefighters, and those who are not alcoholics have been transferred away. "The captain is an alcoholic, and he wants to be surrounded by alcoholics," he explained. "He used to say, 'Give me enough alcoholic firefighters, and I'll put out all the fires.' He was right. Guys, what are we doing? Dare to do anything, dare to go anywhere, dare to take any risks. Because we are all drunk." What a damn mystery.I've been controlling my alcohol intake and it's worked out.It just didn't work anymore. During a break, I put a dollar in the fare basket and went to the coffee machine for another cup of coffee.This time I forced myself to eat an oatmeal cookie. I returned to my seat as the discussion began.I can't keep up with the train of thought, but that doesn't seem to matter.I listened as closely as I could, and stayed there as much as possible. At a quarter to ten I got up and slipped out the door, trying not to attract attention.I feel like everyone is staring at me and I want them to believe that I'm not going for a drink, I have to meet someone, I'm going to talk business.It occurred to me later that I could have stayed until the party was over. St. Paul's Church is just a few minutes from my hotel.Chance will be waiting for me.Maybe I was looking for an excuse to leave before my turn to speak. At ten o'clock, I was in the hotel lobby.I saw his car pull up and I went out across the sidewalk to the side of the road.I opened the door, got in, and slammed the door shut. He looks at me. "Is that job offer still available?" He nodded: "If you accept." "I accept." He nodded again, shifted into gear, and pulled the car away from the curb.