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“What do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m rambling. Look, Crow, I have to go. I’ll drop by later and check in on you. ”
“I’d rather you went home to bed. ”
“See you later,” Terry said and disconnected.
Crow frowned at his cell phone for a while, unhappy with the tension he had heard in his friend’s voice. Terry saying “ass. ” Sure, it was a small thing, but it spoke volumes to Crow about how out of character Terry was acting.
He was mulling this over when Officer Jerry Head walked into his room carrying a paper bag. He paused in the doorway for a second, rapping on the door with a knuckle.
“Mind if I come in?”
It took Crow a second to place him, and then he waved the man in, indicating a chair. The big Philly cop sat down gratefully, looking spent and tired. He still wore his uniform, but his tie was loosened and he had the “off-?duty” air about him.
“Mr. Crow—” he began.
“Just Crow. ”
“Cool. Crow—I only caught the tail end of what happened last night. I didn’t see you kick the shit out of Ruger, but I heard the details, and I did see you help that girl, Rhoda. You stood your ground, man, can’t nobody say otherwise. ”
Crow didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just shrugged.
“So, I wanted to come in, see how you were doing, and…” Here he paused as if a little embarrassed.
“And what?”
“Well…I guess I just wanted to shake your hand. ” He extended his hand to Crow, who stared at it for a second, and then, half smiling with his own embarrassment, he reached out and took it. Out of courtesy for the IV, Head had offered his left, and the cop’s hand was like a piece of unsanded wood—hard, dry, and rough. “And I also brought you something. ” Head opened the paper bag. “I’ve spent my share of time in hospitals—two car wrecks, a couple of knee surgeries, and a knife wound on the job—so I know you must be climbing the walls by now. ” Out of the bag he pulled two thick paperbacks—a Keith Ablow mystery and Dean Koontz’s latest in paperback—and three magazines. Sports Illustrated, Entertainment Weekly, and the latest issue of Maxim with a lingerie pictorial featuring the women from Fox TV. Beneath the books there were two cans of cold Coke and a couple of packs of Tastykake chocolate cupcakes.
Crow was touched. “Jesus, man, you are a saint. ”
“Least I could do,” Head said. “Even though it was just for a couple of hours, Rhoda was my partner last night. ”
Crow nodded. “Sit down—sit down and keep me company. Open these cupcakes for me and let’s have a feast. ”
They lapsed into a conversation about the job, Crow relating some stories about small-?town police work and Head talking about the streets of Philadelphia. Their rhythm was almost immediately comfortable and friendly, and Crow found he liked the Philly cop quite a bit. He was touched by the big man’s thoughtfulness, and by his loyalty to Rhoda.
“So, where do you guys stand with all this?” Crow asked.
“Shit if I know. ” He told Crow about Boyd being spotted. “So with Macchio dead, that just leaves Ruger. ”
“Yeah. ”
“Which kind of brings me to the other reason I wanted to talk with you. ”
Crow nodded his encouragement.
Head said, “I was on the porch and just caught the tail end of the firefight between you and Ruger. As you may remember I fired off some rounds myself. ”
“Vaguely remember something. I was pretty well out of it by then. ”
“My question is—did you hit Ruger? I mean, are you sure you hit him?”
“Your boss, Ferro, asked me the same thing. So has everyone else, and I’ll tell you what I told them. ”
“Which is?”
“I’m absolutely fucking positive I hit him. At least three times, and maybe as much as five times. ”
