The Murderers

He had really been surprised to hear that Charley had become a detective. It took him a lot of thought to realize that what it probably was was dumb luck. As asshole named Gerry Gallagher had got himself hooked on drugs, desperately needed money, and had tried to stick up the Waikiki Diner on Roosevelt Boulevard in Northeast Philly.

Tough luck for the both of them, the Commanding Officer of the Highway Patrol, a big mean sonofabitch named Captain “Dutch” Moffitt, had been having his di

Now the one thing you don’t want to do, ever, is shoot a cop, any cop. And Moffitt was a captain, and the Commanding Officer of Highway Patrol. There were eight-thousand-plus cops in Philadelphia, and every last fucking one of them had a hard-on for Gallagher.

If you were white and between sixteen and forty and looked anything like the description the cops put out on the radio, you could count on being stopped by a cop and asked could you prove you weren’t at the Waikiki Diner when the Highway Captain got himself shot.

Every cop in Philly was looking for Gallagher. Charley McFadden and his partner, a little Spic named Gonzales or Martinez or one of them Spic names like that, had caught him. They chased him down the subway tracks, near the Frankford-Pratt Station in Northeast Philly where the train is elevated. The dumb sonofabitch slipped and got himself cut in little pieces by a train that had come along at the wrong time.

Now the cops certainly knew, So

The next thing So

The next thing So

Then So

So what to do with him? Make him a detective. It sounded good, and despite what you saw on the TV and in the movies, all detectives weren’t out solving murders and catching big-money drug dealers. A lot of them did things that didn’t take too much brains, like looking for stolen cars, and checking pawnshops with a list of what had been heisted lately, things like that.

And then So

That’s what Charley McFadden was probably doing, So

All of this ran through Timothy Francis Boyle’s mind when he saw Charles Thomas McFadden walk into Lou’s Crab House at Eleventh and Moyaminsing.

What surprised him now was how Charley was dressed. He looked nice. Not as classy as the young guy with him-the other guy was not a cop; you don’t buy threads like he’s wearing on what they pay cops but nice. Nice jacket, nice white shirt, nice slacks, even a nice necktie.

And he was also surprised when McFadden headed for the booth where So

Did he just spot me? Or was he looking for me?

“Well, aren’t we in luck?” Charley McFadden said as he slid into the booth beside So

“How are you, Charley?” So

“Thanks,” Charley said. “So

“Pleased to meet you,” So

“How do you do, Mr. Boyle?” Matt said.

Main Line, So

“Long time no see,” So

Charley put two fingers in his mouth, causing a shrill whistle which attracted the waitress’s attention. “Two coffees, darling,” he called out. “Put them on So

“On my bill, my ass,” So

“For old times’ sake, So

“You did?”

“I told him you are one of the neighborhood’s most successful numbers ru

“Jesus Christ, Charley, that’s not fu

“Don’t be bashful,” McFadden said. “He’s always been a little bashful, Matt.”

“Has he really?” Matt said.

“Yeah. What do you expect, with a name like Francis? That’s a girl’s name.”

“When its a girl, they spell it with an e,” So

Who the fuck is this guy? What the hell is this all about?

One of So

It was not discreet enough.

“Turn around, Matthew,” McFadden said. “The kid in the red hair? Three to five he’s one of So

Matt turned and looked.

“Is he really?” he asked.

“Charley, you are not fu

“Who’s trying to be fu

“ Detective” Payne? Is he telling me this Main Line asshole in the three-hundred-fifty-dollar jacket and the fifty-dollar tie is a cop?

“You’re a cop?” So

“Show him your badge, Matthew,” McFadden said. “So

The Main Line asshole reached into the inside breast pocket of his three-hundred-fifty-dollar Harris tweed jacket with leather patches on the elbows and came out with a small folder. He opened it and extended it to So

“You don’t look like a cop,” So

“Don’t I really?” Matt asked.

“Detective Payne is with Special Operations,” Charley said. “You familiar with Special Operations, So

“Sure.”

What the fuck is Special Operations? Oh, yeah. That new hotshot outfit. They’re over Highway Patrol.

“You know what Detective Payne said when I told him what line of work you’re in, So