The
Streets Of New YorkThe
Streets Of New York© Sidney McCabe
CHAPTER SIX
Nobody wants to be your friend
'cause you're not from round here
As if that was something to be proud about
* * *
Nan woke on Thursday morning to the shrill ringing of the phone about two inches from her ear. Her eyes flew open, heart thudding at the sudden sound. She checked the glowing alarm clock-5.26. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, 5.26. For a moment she just lay there, listening to it, too tired to make a move to pick it up.
"Phone," Jimmy murmured in her ear, his voice barely audible as he didn't seem to be moving his mouth.
"Mmm," she agreed, stifling a yawn and glancing over at him.
His eyes struggled open, fluttering for a moment before settling on her face. He smiled groggily. "Ringing," he added helpfully.
Nan was feeling more awake now, much to her chagrin. "You don't say."
"You're closer," he croaked.
Sighing, Nan reached over and switched on the bedside lamp. They both winced in the harsh light. Her hand swiped and missed the phone three times before finally grasping it and yanking it off the table. "H'lo?"
Jimmy lifted his head and watched with sleepy amusement as Nan made a face of disgust. She slipped her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered, "It's Frau Burke."
He groaned and flopped back down onto his pillow. The last thing you wanted at 5.30 in the morning was the voice of Rosemary Burke in your ear. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes finally adjusting to light, and listened to Nan's side of the conversation. It seemed to consist mostly of "Yes" and "I see" and "Of course", and in the end she answered, "We'll be there", before hanging up without a goodbye.
Jimmy turned back toward Nan, propping himself up on his elbow. "'We'll be there', as in 'we'? As in you and me?" She nodded and he grimaced. "At 5.30 in the morning?"
"Your ex-wife's got a real problem with manners, Jimmy," was Nan's reply.
"Tell me something I don't know. So what was that all about?"
"Apparently the senator of New York's mansion was burnt to the ground last night."
"You're kidding me!" Jimmy stared at her in shock. "Which one?"
"You have more than one?"
Jimmy laughed. "You really need to brush up on your American politics, sweetheart. Each state has two."
"Well this one was Grand-something. Michael Grand-something."
"Grandison," Jimmy supplied, turning over to lay on his stomach. "Mitchell Grandison. Democrat, first term. Big on education, health care, human rights, and restructuring campaign finance. Former mayor of New York City. Third-generation Polish-American. Family name was Grandowski before it was changed at Ellis Island."
Nan was silent for a moment.
"What?" Jimmy prodded.
"Nothing. I'm just trying to work out how it is that you've managed to hide these rather nerdlike tendencies of yours for so long."
Jimmy lifted an eyebrow in response, throwing one arm over her and dragging her up against his side. "Nerdlike, huh? I'll show you nerdlike."
"There isn't time!" Nan gasped in delight as his lips met her neck. "Frau Burke wants us at the site by 6.30."
A low sigh emitted from Jimmy as he sank his face against Nan's shoulder. "Why the hell are we being called in first thing in the morning?" he fumed. "We're supposed to come in after the Arson and Explosion guys, not before."
Nan stroked his hair comfortingly. "She said something about the STF needing to drop their 'last to show up' tendencies and be first on the scene. It sounded rather like a thinly-veiled insult toward Teaspoon if you ask me."
"Did you hear her yesterday?" added Jimmy, continuing on in a raspy impression of Rosemary, "'Another thing is that I think you've all been left to your own devices for far too long'. How can Teaspoon stand by and let her talk like that?"
"He just looks amused most of the time. I don't think it bothers him much."
"Well, it bothers me."
"It bothers all of us, Jimmy. We're none of us terribly fond of Rosemary." Nan bit her bottom lip for a moment, hesitating. "Jimmy? We were both so knackered when we got in last night, we didn't really get a chance to talk about-" She broke off, hating the uncertainty in her voice. "How did it go yesterday? I mean, with the two of you?"
For once Jimmy missed the subtle tremor of uncertainty in Nan's voice. He was suddenly bristling with tension at the reminder of yesterday.
He had been shocked to learn that Rosemary had assigned them as partners for the day, and Nan hadn't been happy about it to say the least. But they had both agreed that professionalism was key, and so he had approached Rosemary with no uncertainty.
Things had started well enough. They'd taken a squad car to the Bronx to locate Henry Grimmer, a well-known cat burglar and reported employee of Frankie James, and they had engaged in civilised conversation on the way over. But after three unsuccessful hours of tracking Grimmer from abandoned apartment to abandoned apartment, they had both begun to show the strain. Rosemary had immediately reverted to her familiar sniping, and Jimmy had been only too happy to respond in kind.
The entire day had been pointless; they hadn't got anywhere near Grimmer. Rosemary seemed to have forgotten her own instructions to "search each and every borough" if the need arose, and was disgruntled enough to suggest that they quit by 5.00 that afternoon. Jimmy had agreed, and it was then that things had taken a decidedly peculiar turn.
He could feel Nan's eyes on him now. He turned to look into her beautiful, tired face, feeling a sudden surge of guilt. "It went fine," he said simply.
"Well, that's...good."
"What about you and Rowling?" he asked, desperate to change the subject.
Nan watched him carefully. She knew there was something he wasn't saying. "Really well. He's a lovely bloke."
"Lovely, huh?" he teased half-heartedly. "Should I be worried?"
"Should I?" Nan replied, her eyes betraying the truth behind her light-hearted words.
"No," he whispered. He ran one thumb along the edge of her face and they stared at each other for a long moment before Jimmy buried his nose against her neck once more. She was soft as a London spring morning and smelled like sweetness and sleep. He loved the feel of her arm around him as she hugged him to her, and he thought to himself that there was no way-no way in hell-Rosemary Burke could ever take this away from him, no matter how hard she tried.
For several minutes all was still and quiet. Nan ran her fingers along Jimmy's shoulder and knew that something had happened, and that he either couldn't, or wouldn't, tell her exactly what it was. With a sinking feeling she realised that it must mean it was something to do with Rosemary. Don't jump to conclusions, Nan, she cautioned herself, and forced her mind to return to normal thoughts. Jimmy would tell her when he was ready to. She trusted him completely.
Of course, she couldn't say the same about Rosemary. Any woman, no matter how secure she was, would see the hunger in Rosemary's eyes when she looked at Jimmy. As if she were understanding for the first time just what she had given up when she had left him. As if she were realising that he was within her reach once more.
Uncomfortable with these thoughts, Nan pulled away from Jimmy and threw back the covers. "I should be getting ready," she mumbled as she made her way to the bathroom.
Jimmy watched her painful gait as she went; her limp was always more pronounced in the mornings. He sat up in bed, his arms aching with Nan's absence. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed deeply. Without meaning to, he began thinking of yesterday, and that familiar sparkle in Rosemary's eyes.
"You really are looking good, James."
"Ah...thank you."
"I guess London air agrees with you."
"I guess so."
"Talk to me, James."
"What exactly do you want me to say, Rosemary?"
"Something...Anything. I just want to know about you."
He shuddered now, remembering her hand on his arm, her fingers caressing his skin as easily as if she had every right to. He was willing to work with Rosemary, but if she kept this up it was going to be difficult.
Jimmy forced Rosemary from his thoughts as he readied himself for the day. He and Nan left the apartment at 6 a.m. sharp, grabbed coffee and muffins from the all-night bakery on the corner, and were at the Grandison mansion with a few minutes to spare.
A dozen uniformed police officers were gathered around the property, most of them congregating at the front of the charred remnants of the mansion. It was too early for a crowd, but they were obviously there in anticipation of one gathering soon. When they saw Nan and Jimmy approach, two of them immediately rushed forward.
"Please state your business," the younger one said importantly.
"I'm Inspector Hickok; this is Inspector Kenworthy," Jimmy said, hiding his amusement. "We're with the Special Task Force."
Nan could see both men were confused at the titles of 'Inspector'. "Jimmy, just show him your badge," she said as she reached into her back pocket.
Which was when she discovered she had forgotten her own badge.
"Sod it," she swore under her breath. Jimmy was being ushered onto the property by the other officer, whose nametag read Chanley. She called out, "Jimmy! I've left my badge back at the flat."
"Nice work, Kenworthy," she heard Kid's voice call out gleefully.
"Get stuffed, Kidwell," she called back in the same sing-song voice. "What do I do?" she asked Chanley.
Chanley scratched his forehead in consternation. "I'm awfully sorry, ma'am, but we're under strict orders not to let anyone on the property who isn't an officer."
"But I am an officer," Nan protested, aware just how ridiculous it was to plead with someone who obviously took his duty very seriously. "I mean, honestly. D'you think I'm just some idiot tagging along on her boyfriend's 6.30 a.m. wake-up call?"
"I'm afraid I can't let you in." Chanley shook his head.
Nan pointed to the crowd where several STF members stood out. "There's about ten officers over there who'll vouch for me. Won't it do to have one of them sign me in or something?"
"Only your chief will be able to sign you in."
"My chief is Teaspoon Hunter." She was earning a headache for her troubles. Lovely. Not a morning went by, it seemed, that she didn't find herself feeling dizzy and achy for at least a few hours.
"Chief Hunter's not here yet."
"Oh, bugger."
"I appreciate your frustration, ma'am-"
"Well, I'm glad you do, 'cause I bloody well don't," Nan responded sharply. She rubbed her hand over her eyes, frustration mounting in time with her headache. Brilliant. Just brilliant. She was going to have to run all the way back to the flat to get her badge. Which would mean she'd be extremely late. Which would mean Frau Burke would have yet another reason to sneer at her. Which would put Nan in a really foul mood. Which Frau Burke would react to. Which meant it was going to be another stellar day. As if it hadn't been enough to get a wake-up call from the spawn of the netherworld herself.
Brilliant. Just brilliant.
"What seems to be the problem here?" asked a voice. The same voice which had so rudely awakened Nan from a deep and peaceful slumber in Jimmy's arms this very morning.
Nan whirled round and saw Rosemary approaching. She clenched her teeth and attempted to smile. "Hello, Rosemary, I seem to have forgotten my badge."
"Have you now?" Rosemary drew closer and flashed her badge at Chanley. "I'm in charge of this investigation, Officer Chanley. I can vouch for Inspector Kenworthy's presence here."
Chanley nodded in deference to Rosemary and stepped aside, allowing both women to pass him. Jimmy, seeing that Nan was taken care of, greeted Flynn Malone cheerfully and walked away with him.
The two women walked in silence together until Rosemary suddenly stopped. "Is this going to become a habit, Kenworthy?"
Nan could only gape at her for a moment. "I beg your pardon?"
"Arriving late only to find you've left your badge behind?" The expression on Rosemary's face showed clearly that she doubted the truth of the story.
Nan had learned a great deal under Emma Shannon's tutelage. She had not only become a better police officer, she had become a stronger woman. Things like Rosemary Burke-and in Nan's mind she was nothing more than a 'thing’-didn’t affect her the way they had used to. The time had long since passed when she spoke before she thought, and she took no small amount of comfort from that.
Unfortunately she couldn't take any comfort in what was about to come out of her mouth. It was an ungodly hour, she was feeling poorly, people were standing and watching, and to top it all off, Rosemary was giving her that look. It was more than Nan could bear.
"Firstly," she responded coldly, "I was not late. Jimmy and I arrived promptly at 6.25 a.m. by my watch; you'll note that it is now 6.31."
"Not by my watch, Inspector."
Nan ignored her. "And secondly, I don't appreciate the insinuation that I'd fabricate convenient excuses just to avoid doing my job. My dedication to my job has never been under question before, and I'll be damned", she had been about to use a much ruder word, but decided against it, "if you're the first."
"Do they let you speak like that to your superiors in London, Kenworthy?" Rosemary asked with a faint, impassive smile.
"My superiors in London don't look upon me as their inferior, Burke," Nan replied nastily, taking no small amount of satisfaction in the fact that Rosemary's surname meant the same thing as 'idiot' back home. Rosemary Berk. Yes, that worked well.
She watched as her words hit home and Rosemary's mouth tightened into a thin line. Briefly Nan wondered if she had gone too far. This was the first real confrontation she had experienced with Rosemary as up until now the two women had only ever exchanged suspicious glances and cool words. She studied the other woman sceptically, waiting through Rosemary's silence.
Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, Joe Anello came jogging up at that moment, looking as sombre and disgruntled at 6.30 in the morning as he did at 7.00 at night. "Boss, we need you."
Rosemary turned back to Nan. "We'll have a discussion later this afternoon, Kenworthy."
When she had spun around once more and headed off with Anello, Nan clicked her heels together and gave a mock-salute at her retreating back. "Sure thing, Frau Burke," she muttered under her breath.
She glanced over to find Kid was suddenly at her side, watching her intently. "What was all that about?"
Nan shrugged. "Dunno. Clash of the Titans, maybe? It wasn't pretty."
"No," agreed Kid, "not from where I was standing either." He chuckled sympathetically. "You look like you could use a hug."
"Actually, what I could use is about five more hours sleep and then maybe a cigarette to calm my nerves."
"You don't smoke."
She flashed him a cheeky grin. "Exactly. And I can't sleep either, so come over here, Kidwell, and give us a hug."
Kid threw his head back and laughed, before reaching out to squeeze her arm affectionately. "Come on, Nan, I know you're made of sterner stuff."
"Honestly, I don't know what made me go off like that. She just-she just-" Nan stopped, throwing her hands up in the air. "She just gave me that look, and I lost it."
"So I noticed."
"You don't need to sound so bloody smug. You'd be singing a different tune if Flynn Malone weren't such a nice guy."
Suddenly the amused expression dropped from Kid's face and Nan realised she may have just made a slight tactical error. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked quietly.
Nan flushed under his scrutinising gaze. "Nothing. It means what it means. You're just lucky Lou’s ex is a pleasant person to deal with, that's all." She squinted up at the sun as it began to lift itself above the horizon. "Bugger, but it's going to be a hot one today."
"Very subtle, Kenworthy," Kid remarked dryly.
A faint smile crept across her mouth. "I am known for it in some circles."
"I've known you for something like ten years, Nan Kenworthy, and I have never heard 'subtlety' listed as one of your finer points."
Nan flashed him a two-fingered salute and they grinned at one another again, heading off in separate directions. The sun was moving higher and the humidity had already begun to rise accordingly. The Arson and Explosion squad had arrived within the hour, followed closely by Forensic. Soon the grounds were swarming with police officers, and a crowd began to gather around 7.00. Reporters and camera crews who had held a vigil the night before as the mansion burned, were back to document the start of the investigation. It was, not to put too fine a point on it, a madhouse.
The reporters took some getting used to, Nan found. The AMIT had had occasional brushes with the British press a time or two in London, but there had never been a case nearly as high-profile as this. There were cameras everywhere she looked, in front of which stood earnest-faced, heavily made-up newscasters, speaking intently into their microphones. She heard bits and pieces of their spiels as she walked along and was torn between amusement and consternation as they mangled what little information they’d been given; the rest of their monologues were, apparently, pure speculation and sensationalism.
“…rumour has always held that Senator Grandison has had ties with high-ranking members of New York’s infamous Gigliotti family…”
“Our sources tell us that Senator Grandison has been receiving disturbing death threats…”
Right, thought Nan, disturbing death threats. Because they’re usually so cheerful, aren’t they?
“…when I spoke with police, Trent, and they were very reticent. One can only presume there’s something they’re choosing not to share with us at this time.”
Imagine the police wanting to keep something from a reporter, Nan sneered to herself.
“…inferno. As you can see around me, the remains of the Grandison mansion have been reduced to charred…”
“…today during a press conference from the White House, President Bartlet was quoted as responding, ‘My wife and I send our deepest sympathy to Senator Grandison and his family during this time of…’”
Nan imagined that once they had had their say, the news crews would pack up and leave, but no such luck. They appeared to be in it for the long-haul. She felt as if they were watching every move she made. To be fair, they seemed to be watching everyone, but it was unnerving all the same. It was hard enough working with Rosemary’s sharp eyes on her without adding a group of strangers with cameras.
At lunchtime Rosemary and Thompkins, the head of the Arson Task Force, okayed a break for lunch, advising the officers to go in shifts. Nan found herself in the first shift with Ike, Buck, and Cody, and the four officers agreed to try a sandwich shop around the corner. It was a short walk and they crossed the distance in pleasant silence.
Inside the shop the officers immediately felt the cold slap of air conditioning against their hot skin and shivered with pleasure. They settled with their sandwiches into a booth by the window and talk fell, not unexpectedly, to the fire at the Grandison mansion.
“I think the one thing I don’t quite understand-apart from these crisps,” Ike said, thoughtfully inspecting the round, yellow, rather pungent object in his hand. “What the hell are these, anyway?”
“Funyuns,” Cody advised him with a grin.
“Funyuns,” Ike repeated in a disbelieving tone.
“They’re onion-flavoured, and they’re-I don’t know, they’re fun, I guess,” added Buck.
“So they’re Funyuns,” Ike said. “All right, then, they’re Funyuns.”
Nan giggled as she sipped at her soda. “All right then, Ike, tell us what else it is you don’t understand.”
“Right. The thing I don’t really understand is, if the FBI has built such a huge file on Frankie and Elizabeth, and if Frankie and Elizabeth are who we suspect, why is the STF involved at all? Wouldn’t the FBI be the ones keeping tabs on the case? No one’s really explained that to me.”
“They are keeping tabs on the case,” answered Cody. “But you gotta look at it this way. Okay, here,” he lifted one slice of bread from his sandwich and began peeling away the lettuce, tomato, and onions. “Look at it like this. See this slice of turkey? That’s the case we’re working on.” He began to pile the vegetables back on. “Let’s say…this tomato is the local precinct officers, and the onion is the Arson Task Force…and the lettuce is the STF.”
Buck raised an eyebrow in amusement. “So what’s the mustard?”
“It’s the…oh hell, it’s Russell and Majors and Waddell, all right?” Irritation crossed Cody’s face. “I’m trying to make a point here, Buck, so pipe down.”
“Fine,” snickered Buck, hiding his grin behind his sandwich.
Cody glanced back at Nan and Ike to be sure they were paying attention. “All right, so the turkey is the case. The precinct is the first on the scene and-”
“Actually,” interrupted Nan, “the STF was first on the scene today.”
“Uh yeah, I realise that, Nan. Can I continue please?”
“By all means.”
“So usually,” he placed unnecessary emphasis on the word, “the uniformed officers are first on the scene. Technically, that’s what happened in this case. They were first on the scene at Mon Amí’s when it burned down, see? And that’s how this all started. Because they investigated the property and found the link back to Frankie and Elizabeth. But then the ATF guys get there-”
“What about the Bureau of Fire Investigation? I mean, technically they’re there before the ATF. Technically they’re the ones who call in the ATF,” Buck pointed out reasonably.
“Buck-”
But Buck was on a roll now. “Actually, the A and E guys are the ones who co-ordinate with the Bureau of Fire Investigation. The FI guys send an officer out to work with-where’s Flynn in your little demonstration?”
Cody looked pained. “For the love of God, I am just trying to illustrate a point with a turkey sandwich; I’m not giving a damn economics lecture at NYU with charts and graphs. Can I just finish my story already?’
Buck, Nan, and Ike attempted to keep a straight face, but each failed miserably.
“Ahem. So the ATF guys get there, and they oversee what little the precinct officers have to do with it. Then they call in us-they call in the STF, the lettuce on the sandwich, and we not only oversee the ATF squad, but also the precinct officers. We’re the ones who gotta determine if this is all really connected to Frankie or not. Generally speaking, we’re handling the case, because the FBI-well, that’s the bread, and to get to the bread you gotta go pretty high up.”
Ike studied the rudimentary example with interest. “So you’re saying that technically the FBI is overseeing us?”
Cody and Buck both bristled. “Well, I don’t particularly care to think of the FBI as overseeing us,” sniffed Cody. “But yeah, I guess you could say they’re sort of keeping an eye on us. If we officially determine that Frankie is at the bottom of this, then the case will be turned over to them.”
“So we do all the legwork, then?” asked Nan.
“They’ll still have plenty to do if we have to turn it over to them,” Buck answered, swirling sugar into his iced tea, “but we’ll have done our share of legwork in the meantime.”
“’All the responsibility and long hours of the FBI with none of the prestige’, that’s what Teaspoon said.” Cody sighed morosely, remembering Teaspoon’s speech the day he told them he was leaving.
Buck seemed to sense his friend’s thoughts and echoed his frustrated sigh. “I can’t believe Teaspoon is going. I know it’s a great opportunity for him, and he needs change, but…I’m selfish. I don’t want him to go.”
“Especially not if we’re going to be left with someone like Rosemary Burke.” Cody gave an involuntary shudder.
“Don’t talk to me about Rosemary while I’m eating,” pleaded Nan, “I beg of you.”
Ike’s eyes danced. “I hear you call her ‘Frau Burke’.”
Nan blanched and shifted uncomfortably in the booth. “Where did you hear that?”
“Um, I got it from Narducci, actually, but she got it from Rowling, and he got it from Flynn Malone.”
“God, Jimmy must be telling everyone,” Nan groaned. “If she finds out, she’ll make my life a living hell.”
“You mean she isn’t trying to already?” Cody asked with fake innocence, grinning as he picked up his model of the NYPD infrastructure and took a huge bite.
Nan and Jimmy didn’t get home until nearly midnight. They were both exhausted, their clothes still clinging to them with sweat and heat. Nan had pulled her hair back earlier in the day and it seemed to be wilting now, strands of it plastered to her neck and face. The moment Jimmy shut the door behind them, they headed for the couch and promptly collapsed into its softness.
“It’s hot in here,” Nan commented after several minutes of weary silence.
“I turned down the air conditioner. It saves on electricity if you’re not home during the day.”
“Ah. Excellent thinking…Only now it’s bloody hot in here.”
“Yeah.”
More silence passed.
“Is she going to be like this the entire time?” Nan asked obliquely.
It didn’t take a genius to know whom she was referring to. Rosemary Burke had run Nan ragged all day long, ordering her here and there, criticising her in front of other officers. Whatever wrong she felt Nan had done her, she was just as determined to even the score in her favour.
Jimmy thought back to the last few months of his marriage to Rosemary and nodded a moment later. “Yeah, I think she probably will be.”
Groaning, Nan closed her eyes and slid further down on the sofa, kicking off her shoes and propping her feet on the coffee table. “You know, I wasn’t expecting to be her second or anything, but it’s a bit tough to suddenly be relegated to the newest lackey.”
Jimmy turned to look at her. She seemed more tired than he did somehow; her eyes were darker and her mouth drooped at the corners. He wasn’t used to seeing her like this. Usually Nan had twice the energy he did, even at the end of a long day. Right now she looked almost…defeated. And ‘defeated’ wasn’t a word he was used to associating with Nan Kenworthy. “C’mere,” he said, opening his arms.
“Jimmy, it’s too hot,” she protested.
He shook his head. “C’mere,” he said again.
A small smile seemed ready to cross Nan’s lips. She relented, moving closer next to him. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close against him, and even though it was too hot in the apartment for such close contact, Nan sighed contentedly. She rested her head on his chest and smiled to herself, closing her eyes once again. He thought of Rosemary earlier, sending Nan on ridiculous errands, berating her for arriving late back from lunch, despite the protests of Ike, Buck, and Cody, who had also been late. Inside Jimmy burned.
“Do you want me to talk to Teaspoon?”
“No.” Nan was emphatic. “That’s probably just what she wants. She’s already been harping on about favouritism, I don’t want to give her more ammunition.”
“I’m sorry, honey.”
Nan lifted her head and smiled at him, kissing his cheek. “No worries, love, I can manage.”
“Are you sure? I know he’s supposed to let Rosemary have free reign, but he can step in when he needs to.”
“I’m fine, I promise you. If I get to the point that I want to take her head off, I’ll be sure to let you know she’s gone too far. But apart from that, I’m okay.”
“You haven’t wanted to take her head off so far?”
“Not so far. I fluctuate between wanting to wipe the smug smile off her
face and wanting to trip her on her way up to the front of the team room.”
Jimmy burst into laughter. “And that’s not cause for concern?”
“Not yet.” Nan grinned wickedly.
After a while Jimmy opened a few windows and cool air began to filter into the room, reviving them both while the air conditioner kicked into gear. Thanks to Teaspoon, the STF officers didn’t have to be at the station until ten a.m., a fact for which Nan and Jimmy were both immensely grateful.
Nan was changing into her pajamas and Jimmy had just begun spooning ice cream into bowls when the phone rang. Jimmy winced involuntarily; phone calls at 12.30 in the morning were never a good sign.
“Hello?”
“Jimmy?”
Jimmy’s heart sank at the sound of the voice. “Will?”
Footsteps creaked on the old wooden floors and Jimmy looked up to see Nan sauntering into the kitchen, tugging her red Manchester United t-shirt over her stomach. When she heard her grandfather’s name she froze and mouthed, “Paulie?”
“I’m sorry to wake you,” Will was saying.
“It’s fine,” Jimmy reassured him, “Nan and I just got in.” He paused. “Will, is it Paul?”
Will inhaled deeply. “Yes, it’s Paul.”
“What’s he done?” asked Jimmy while Nan sat on one of the kitchen chairs, drawing her cotton-clad knees up to her chest and fixing him with a worried look.
“He’s left again. He’s been gone two days. I wasn’t going to ring you, not yet, but then the police showed up…just a few minutes ago. They were looking for Paul.”
“The police?” echoed Jimmy. Nan’s eyes widened.
“Yes-it was actually a couple of young women who knew Nan.”
“What were their names?”
“Amelia Vance and Martha Monroe.”
Jimmy repeated the names to Nan and she nodded. “I was at the training centre with Amelia, and I worked with both of them once in Hampstead Row.”
“They said Paulie’d been with some boys who’d nicked a few things from a street vendor in Walford Square.”
“Walford Square?” Jimmy mentally pieced together a rough visual of London’s layout. “That’s the East End, isn’t it?”
“East End? What’s Paulie doing all the way over in the East End?” exclaimed Nan.
“One of the boys was caught,” continued Will, “and he gave the police Paulie’s name and address. He’s not come home yet, but he will. And Jimmy, I don’t have a clue what to do with him when he gets here.”
“Shit,” whispered Jimmy under his breath.
“Jimmy, I’m so sorry, but-”
“I know, Will, just-just don’t worry. Nan and I have talked about this, and we…” Jimmy’s voice trailed off and he shook his head sadly. Poor kid. Poor stupid, reckless, thoughtless kid. He glanced over at Nan. Tears glistened in her eyes and she seemed to be clutching her legs so tightly to her chest she could hardly breathe. But she nodded encouragingly at Jimmy. They had discussed it over the past several days, and they knew what they would do. “We’ll take him, Will.”
“You’ll-you’ll take him?” Will sounded almost weak with relief.
“Yeah, we will.”
“Jimmy, I can’t tell you what this-Jamie will be so grateful.”
“It’s our-” Jimmy had been about to say ‘pleasure’ but it wasn’t the right word under the circumstances, “We’re glad to help, Will.”
After he hung up he turned back to Nan. She was drying her eyes on the back of her hand, and in typical Nan-fashion, she was putting on a brave face. She gathered a pen and a pad of paper.
“Right,” she said, with a briskness that didn’t fool Jimmy for a minute, “let’s get to work, shall we? Airfare first, I should think. How much will that set us back?”
“Nan.”
Nan began scribbling away at the paper. “No more than £300-wait, sorry, I’ve got to start thinking in dollars. That’s what, roughly $600? So no more than $600.”
“Sweetheart…” Jimmy sat across from her, watching her slim hand move quickly across the page.
“School holidays have already started, so cost permitting, I’d say the sooner the better, wouldn’t you?”
Jimmy laughed helplessly. “Nan. Honey. Calm down.”
“I’m calm,” she retorted, meeting his eyes. “I’m perfectly calm. Do you see me running about the place in a frenzy?”
“Nan, sitting quietly at a table, frantically writing down a list of things to do is your version of running about the place in a frenzy.”
Her face crumpled immediately, tears pouring from her eyes. She tossed the pen down in frustration. “Bloody hell, Jimmy, what did we do wrong? I thought all this messing about was over and done with!”
He reached for her arm but she seemed not to notice.
“I mean, what’s that boy playing at? Is he trying to put Grandad in his grave? Is he trying to-? Jesus, I don’t know what he’s trying to do.”
“Nan, he’s a teenager, he’s trying to-”
“I just don’t understand! He’s so…angry all the time,” she interrupted. “When I see that boy, I am going to give him such a talking to, his head’ll spin.”
“A talking to?” Jimmy had to fight back a burst of laughter.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“No offence, Nan, I mean…I personally love your lectures, but I don’t think anyone else is too crazy about them.”
Nan, always quick to laugh at herself, dissolved into sudden snickers. “Very funny, Inspector.”
“Okay, I know I’m in trouble when you refer to me as ‘Inspector’.”
“Too right.” Nan’s giggles faded away and she rubbed her face tiredly. “So…what do we do?”
“Well, we send a plane ticket, we make sure the sofa’s clean enough for Paul to sleep on, we pick the kid up at the airport on the appointed day, and then…” Jimmy shrugged.
“And then what?”
“And then…we do what needs to be done.”
To his surprise, Nan’s eyes filled once more, but she only smiled happily at him. “Jimmy Hickok, do you know how much I love you?”
He flushed with delight, smiling back at her. “I love you too, Nan, you know that.”
“Yes, I do,” she said seriously. “It’s times like this when you show me just how much.”
Usually one or the other of them attempted a joke when things got like this. They were much more comfortable with playful banter than passionate declarations. But somehow this quiet moment seemed to call more for the latter than the former. So he just deepened his smile, allowing Nan a glimpse of the wrinkles by his eyes that she loved. He leaned forward and kissed her, brushing his lips tenderly against hers. “Just so you don’t forget it,” he whispered.
“I won’t,” she said in a voice that was a promise by itself.
She reached for the phone book and together they began to search the airline pages. By one that morning, Paulie had a flight booked for a week from Saturday and they had decided to meet him at the airport together. Later, they lay side by side in bed, silently contemplating what might lay ahead when an angry, confused, rebellious teenage boy left behind everything he knew to join them in a city of uncertainties.
to be continued...