Night Time

Night Time




         Night was turning to day just like it always did. I could see a single star, where did the other billions go? Maybe if I hadn't been up all night watching Three Stooges reruns, I wouldn't care where the others went.
         I'd expected a knock on the door and company all night, but neither came. She said she would probably stop by after work. I took probably to mean definitely. My mistake, I guess. So, it had been me and The Stooges up all night waiting for the woman of my dreams.
         Another look out of my dirty kitchen window showed the single star replaced by a bright blue sky. It was time for me to snap out of it and get ready for work. First there would be coffee, my lifeblood.
         Two cups of coffee, a quick shower and I was ready to go. I opened the door to exit and there she was with her hand up ready to knock. I didn't know who was more surprised.
         "Hey, I'm on my way out. I waited for you all night."
         "I'm sorry Hal, I should have called. I had some things going on, but I should have called.
         'Is something wrong Cathy? You look a little out of it. Come in, let's talk."
         "Yes, thanks Hal'"
         She sat across from me on the couch, looking beautiful and worried. "So, what's going on?"
         "I'm not sure. My mother called me last night, very upset. She can't get in touch with my father."
         "Sorry Cathy, don't they live in the same house. He shouldn't be that hard to find."
         "No, they divorced years ago. He has his own place here in the city, she still lives upstate in the house where I grew up."
         I didn't like where this conversation was going. I'd only known Cathy for a few weeks. I didn't care if her father had found a woman and was shacked up with her for a few days. Wasn't my business. People tend to overreact when someone they love isn't where they're supposed to be at all times. I think it has a lot to do with the reality murder shows that are on a twenty-four-hour loop on a bunch of stations. Everyone who turns up on these shows ends up dead.
         "So did you try to get a hold of him?"
         "Sue, I've been calling his cell and house phone since mom called. It's not like him, he always picks up when I call."
         "Where does he live?"
         "A few blocks from here. I confess that's why I stopped here. I know you're a cop, I hoped you'd go there with me."
         "Sorry Cathy, I'm not that kind of cop. I sit at a desk all day and correlate data. It sounds more exciting than it is. I keep my gun in my locked desk draw so I won't shoot myself in the head from boredom."
         "Could you come with me anyway?"
         How could I resist those puppy dog eyes? "Sure, just let me call in sick."
         On the walk over Cathy told me her father was in pretty good health. "He's just a regular guy. He goes to work, comes home, maybe drinks a beer or two and watches a ballgame. I know he's had a couple of woman friends that he won't tell me about. His company let him transfer down here after the divorce."
         I didn't want to get too deep asking questions about why her parents divorced, I didn't care. I was getting a bad feeling about this whole thing. If nothing else, her father had some big bucks. He lived in one of those big new condo buildings that looked down at my whole neighborhood.
         We walked into the lavishly decorated lobby and the concierge immediately gave me the side eye. He did recognize Cathy from previous visits, so he let us pass. Cathy tried the intercom and didn't get a response. "I have a key, let's take the elevator."
         Her father's place was on the twelfth floor. She rang the doorbell and nothing. She opened the door with her key and opened the door. "Hal, could you go in first."
         "I could but your father doesn't know me. He might think I'm and intruder and shot me or something."
         Cathy gave me the same side eye the concierge had given me. "Okay", she called inside before entering, "Dad, Dad, are you here?" no answer.
         We entered together. It didn't take long to find dad. Cathy screamed and ran out of the apartment. He was laid out on a bloody rug in front of the biggest TV I'd ever seen. Half his head was blown away and he was wearing nothing but pajama bottoms.
         I found Cathy on her knees in the hallway crying. "Cathy go downstairs and wait for the police. There might still be someone in there. Quick, go. I'll stay here until the police get here."
         It didn't take long, two patrolmen showed within ten minutes. The well-off never have to wait even if they're fucking dead. They secured the apartment and we waited for the detectives.
         Detectives Lewis and Carlton showed up looking almost as important as they thought they were. Lewis was a well know asshole. He looked down his nose at every cop in the department. It was easy for him; he was about six foot five inches. Carlton wasn't as bad, but he was beginning to pick up some of his partner's annoying characteristics.
         Of course, Lewis gave me a hard time for being there. I told him the whole story and he looked at me like I was the sticky stuff at the bottom of his four-hundred-dollar shoes. I told him to kiss my Irish ass and went down to the lobby to see how Cathy was doing.
         I didn't need to rush, she was surrounded by police, friends of her father, and last but not least her father's attorney. Once the lawyers showed up it was time for me to get the hell out of there.
         The following week was full of stories about Cathy's father's murder. There were the usual relatives and friends telling the talking heads about what a wonderful human being Mr. Grant was. Why is it that anyone murdered and then be on one of these murder channel shows was always a wonderful person, almost saintly? Didn't low life perverts ever get murdered?
         I'd been questioned again by Detective Lewis. We both agreed that Cathy had played me. "By the way Hal, isn't your last name Ricci?"
         "Yea, why?"
         "How am I supposed to kiss your Irish ass if your Italian?"
         Who knew, Detective Lewis had a sense of humor? He was also a great detective.
         Two weeks after the murder Cathy and her mother were arrested for the murder of Mr. Grant. He had told Cathy that he was about to remarry. The problem that Cathy and her mother faced was his bride to be had seven children. All those heirs were going to cut deeply into Cathy's and her mother's inheritance.
         They hired a crackhead, gave him a thousand dollars, a gun, and the key to Mr. Grant's apartment. The rest is history. The junkie gave the two women up after about twelve seconds. I guess that's the problem with having money, someone else always wants it.