Merrick

I got back to ER, saw The Lieut. Heading for me. I thought

‘Uh….oh.’

He had a deep gravely voice, the one’s ex-smokers have and aren’t no chickens on the

whole damn planet more self righteous than ex-smokers. He sneered

‘Get your fix, did you?’

‘Yes, Thank you.’

He moved close, way too near, asked

‘Is that a tone sonny, cos, you don’t want to have no fucking tone with me kid.’

Ah sweet Jesus and His Mother, a hard arse, a fookin Nazi of procedure, and they leave

you but two ways to go.

a………….shoot the fooker right away.

b…………………let him rant, shoot him later when you have your gun.

He pulled out a battered notebook, the prick’s always have them, usually spiraled, said

‘Thomas Ryan, late of The Garda Siochana, I got it right so far?’

He raised up on that last letter like a hyena eating a lion’s leftovers, and the guy would

always be eating from the doggy bag.

I nodded, without my gun………see above, B.

He leered

‘That’s like…..Rent a Cop, without arms, am I right?

I was tired, fighting on so many fronts and this bollix with a badge was starting to piss

me off, I know, know I should have said nowt but……………

I said

‘You’re right, as I’m sure you always are. Right?’

Oddest thing, when I’m right on the precipice of confrontation these past few years, I

smell Irish stew. It makes me…………..reckless.

He reeled back a second, not expecting an answer of that kind, so soon, then right in my

face, his breath reeking of garlic and sweet wine.

I added

‘Tip to the wise partner, lay off the garlic, guy with your blood pressure, you’ll never see

forty.’

Apoplexy……………what a great word, does what it say’s on the package.

Learned it from me Readers Digest Condensed edition of……’A Word a Day.’

Hadn’t expected to view it up close and Technicolor,

He grabbed my shirt, tearing off the buttons, spittle in my face and suddenly, Judy was

Pulling him away, going

‘What on God’s earth, that’s my husband’s friend, you should be ashamed of yourself

Lieu tent!’

He looked round, the whole of the ER staring at him, he tried

‘I….am……….sorry Madam, the heat of a fellow officer down, you know?’

Shona was on him

‘And what, you think you can abuse people’s civil rights because you are upset?’

He had nothing.

Me, I had the front seat.

He backed away, throwing the evil eye at me, I added kerosene and to gain brownie

points with the ladies, said

‘I forgive you Sergeant.’

Thus demoting the fook and putting the boot in.

Would he let that shite go?

Would he fook?

Least next time, I’d be expecting him.

I said to Shona

“Thank you.’

She smiled, maybe I wasn’t completely in the shitter and then a thought hit me, fook, I

asked

‘The flowers, the roses, you remember any address, I mean, where they were sent from?’

Shot in the dark, usually these outlet’s delivered, they got in some promo too.

She said

‘Sure.’

Jesus.

Waited.

‘Blooms, on Fifth Avenue, who could forget? they’re like the most exclusive florists in

Manhattan.’

I hugged her, said

‘Alanna, gotta go, you did brilliant.

I was running out of there and by just moments, caught Serge Boxer as he was putting his

car in gear, he rolled down the window, asked

‘Merrick’s Ok?’

‘Yes, I mean, I think so, sorry I gave you a fright but you said………if there was

anything?’

‘I meant it.’

I had a pen, thank fook, jotted down Shona’s name, address, asked

‘She got roses from Blooms, on Fifth Avenue, maybe paid for by credit card, could you

take a look?

He smiled, said

‘Sure, only dope dealers pay by cash anymore so chance’s are?’’

I said

“ I owe you.’

‘Wait till we see if I get a hit,….. and your number?’

Gave it to him, he asked

‘No cell phone?’

‘Am……….no.’

‘No wonder you had to go private.’