Dzinski – Close Shave, Chapter Three

Chapter One and Chapter Two

Dzinski stepped over the legs splayed across the hall. He tucked in his shirt and opened the door in response to the authoritative knock.

A plainclothes cop stood there, thick fist poised to batter the door again. A younger beat cop, uncomfortable in his still-stiff blues stood just behind him. The detective flashed his badge out of habit, but then his eyes looked up from under their heavy lids and he recognized Dzinski.

“Hullo Frank,” he said, his jowls lifting in the semblance of a smile. “I should’ve realized this was your place.”

“Morning, Houle.”

Dzinski let them in. He went into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee while the cops investigated. He was stirring in the sugar when Houle stepped in the kitchen, the chewed stub of a pencil stuck in the corner of his mouth. He refused a cup of coffee, but eyed the cigarette burning in the cracked ashtray. Dzinski shook one loose from the paper pack and rolled it over.

“So what happened here, Frank?” Houle said, after exhaling. “You seemed to come out of it alright.”

Dzinski gave him the rundown. Houle scribbled in his pad. The uniform stood behind him, looking anxious. He turned down a coffee as well.

“Call for an ambulance,” Houle shouted over his shoulder. Dzinski told him the telephone was in the front room. “Who sent him Frank?”

Dzinski shrugged and finished his coffee.

“We’ll get it out of him when he wakes up,” he said, flipping his pad closed. “You want to press charges?”

“Nope,” Dzinski said.

Houle looked at him, his wet eyes asking more questions than his mouth could. The rookie hollered the ambulance was on the way.

“You should maybe take a vacation Frank. Get somewhere warm for a while. Feel the sand between your toes and all that.”

“That’s an idea.”

“An idea,” Houle said. “But you won’t do it?”

“Nope,” Dzinski said.

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