Memoria (11 page)

"Well, unless you know another Kathleen Baker in your house with a thing for black lacy underwear."

Frank jumped off the chair, clenching his fists.

"
You taking the piss? You and Kathleen, you-"

Barney
rose, looking down at him.

"Wake up, man. It's the talk of
the whole of
New York City.
R
eporters can't get enough of your neighbor's stories. She is the star of the show."

Frank went
for him;
Max
stood between the two.

"
Barney
—
enough!" He pushed his friend in the chest and
slapped
Frank's wrist. "Put your hands down! Now!"
Max
's eyes glistened behind his glasses. "We don't have much time," his voice was harsh. "Sooner or later they'll know you started here, Frank. Either the detectives or those who attacked you, but we need to expect company."

"You wait!"
Barney
insisted. "Don't you understand, both of you?"

"Understand what?"
Max
turned to him.

"You think. The murdered woman calls a press conference. Then she takes her clothes off and goes to bed. See
what I'm getting at?
"

Frank tried to lunge forward but
Max
gestured him to stop.

"
Barney
has a point. It doesn't add
up."
He paused, thinking. "We'll talk about it later. We need to act quickly."

"What do you suggest?"
Barney
grumbled and sat back down.

Frank glared at him, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"We need to hide him somewhere,"
Max
said.

"Where?"

"At your place."

"At
my what?"
Barney
jumped up. His b
ulk
loomed over
Max
. "You m
u
st be mad. Not with my-"

"I count on her, too. She's the only person who can get access to the data."

"No. You...
you can't be serious. You planned it all along!"

"You tell her what it's all about, and Frank will give her all the details."

"No way. Not her. Anyone but her."

'Oh, yes."

"Oh, no!"

"Yes, damn it! Sergeant
Douggan
!"
Max
slammed his fist on the desk, and the device jumped with the impact.

"You can't give me orders!" Droplets of
Barney
's saliva
spattered
Max
's face. "The war is over!"

Max
breathed out, removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, red with exhaustion.

"It is indeed," he put the glasses back on. "I'm just trying to appeal to your conscience."

Barney
lowered his head, hiding his eyes from
Max
. He sat back down,
the chair creak
ing
under his weight. He breathed heavily and massaged his chest. Deep lines
furrowed
his face.

"Anyone but her," he raised
his pleading eyes. "You know I'
ll follow you anywhere. I trust your decisions. I would do anything for you, storm the police department or Memoria building, all you need
is ask. Just keep Maggie out of this. Please."

Frank blinked, u
ncomprehending.
Barney
seemed on the brink of tears.

"She's a big girl now. You...
and I," the coach put his hand on
Barney
's shoulder and glanced at Frank,"
all of us together, we'll
deal with it
. The situation is far from easy. We can't afford
to
mak
e
mistakes."

Barney
shrugged his hand off.

"How can you be so sure we haven't made a mistake already? You tell me!"

"Because," the coach stood up, "because we've already let them down once." He jerked his chin, pointing it at Frank. "Him, and Maggie, and all those we fought for. Who still have to live here after we're gone.
Barney
, they're being brainwashed. Who is going to tell them about the past once we're gone? You think
the migrants
will? There're not many of them left, either, and they have their hands full with other things. Why? Because they want to remain human."

"Stop it,"
Barney
raised his hand. "Enough of that. Don't you stare at me like that! Sit down."

"Is it a yes?"
Max
sat next to him.

"It is. But not because of the migrants
, damn them
. And don't you dare compare me
to
them.
I'
ll follow you to hell and back, and you know it. But not because of the migrants. Two years we were fighting them. And we won
—
we did!"

"Agreed," the coach glanced at his watch. "What time
do you have
?"

"Quarter to two."

"Go now."

"And you?"
Barney
rose.

"I have some packing to do. There,"
Max
handed him the device and he
aded for the door. "The stash
is safe, I presume?"

"It was
,
last time I checked it,"
Barney
replied
to his back. "Are you sure force is really necessary?"

Frank couldn't stand it any l
onger.
"I really appreciate your help and
the
attention
you've given to
my problems, but really
...
"

Max
stopped on his way to the locker room and turned to him.

"
...
really, I don't understand! Who's Maggie? What's your plan?"

"
Barney
will tell you," the coach disappeared in the locker room.

Frank turned to the veteran.

"Come on,
then," he grumbled and headed for the front door.

With a sigh of relief, F
rank followed.

"I'll be at your place tomorrow morning," the coach shouted from the locker room. "Six o'clock."

A locker door slammed.

"Agreed,"
Barney
answered.

F
rank forced his eyes open. Darkness surrounded him. Somebody shook him by the shoulder.

"There we are,"
Barney
's low voice boomed in
his ear.

His large frame moved aside, letting some light into the cab.
Barney
had turned the interior light
off so that no one could recognize
his passenger from the outside. The weak light of a street lamp drizzled into the opened door. The car was parked on the corner of an apartment block.

"Out you come, quick."

Frank rubbed his face and finally felt awake. He got out, stretched and took in a lungful of air.

Which
was fresh and windless. A few stars showed in the sky. The rain had passed leaving a few clouds behind. The
coming
day promised to be sunny and warm.

"Where are we?" Frank turned his head, looking around.

"West Brooklyn,"
Barney
slammed the door shut, turned the alarm on and pointed at
something behind his back. "That
's the East River
over there
. Come on now," he climbed the stairs that led to the front door and produced a bunch of keys. The lock clicked.

"Now remember,"
Barney
sa
id. "I expect you to be as quiet
as a mouse. Stay put in your room. No nosing about. I'll wake you up as soon as I'm back. Understood?"

"Sure," Frank nodded. "Where are you
to
now?"

"Got to take the cab back to my partner,"
Barney
let him inside, cast a quick glance along the str
eet and shut the front door. "I'
ll be back as soon as I can. Up the stairs, second floor."

They went upstairs t
ogether. The bunch of keys jangl
ed in
Barney's
hand as the veteran opened the apa
rtment door. Without turning
the light
on
in the hall, he showed Frank to his room.

"Get some sleep,"
Barney
whispered,
lingering in the doorway.

Frank sat down on a couch. Springs creaked under the battered upholstery.

"Remember the drill?"

"Yeah. Stay put, no nosing about…"

"Hush!"
Barney
hissed.

"
...
and get some sleep." Frank kicked off h
is shoes and stretched his body out
on the couch. Hands under his head, he stared at the ceiling.

"In other words," he heard from the hall, "stick your neck out, and I'll break it."

Frank didn't answer. He closed his eyes and listened to the shuffl
e of
feet, the clinking
of
keys and the screech of the closing lock. In a couple of minutes he heard a
motor
starting outside. A car drove off.

Now he could finally catch a few z's, at least until the monstrous mustachio was
back. Frank tried to relax. But sleep wouldn't come. He turned on his side. The upholstery stank of sweat and dust.
Barney
must have slept here himself, not bothering with bedclothes. About time h
e gave the place a good clean
.

Frank
thought he
'd
heard a quiet sniffling in the next room.
He really didn't look forward to any more ag
g
ro from
Barney
over the disrupted sleep of his daughter or girlfriend, whoever she was. But he could use a leak.

Frank
got off the cou
ch and nearly fell over his own shoes. He swore under his breath and walked out into the hall, feeling
along
the wall for a
light switch. He didn't find it
. In the dark, he could make out another door further on, and two more to his left. Frank pushed the one closest to him. The kitchen. The next one was the bathroom.

He flipped the switch above the mirr
or and squeezed his eyes shut, then o
pened them. A cheap shower cabin took up half the space. A
toilet
in the corner completed
the scenario.

Frank glanced in the mirror, turned to the toilet
bowl
, undid
his
fl
y
and relieved himself. He flushed the toilet and opened the tap above the sink. Cold water helped to
clear
his head, heavy with exhaustion and lack of sleep.

Frank washed his face, poured some water onto the back of his
neck
, closed the tap and admired his mug in the mirror.
Oh well
...
He
could do with a shave and a
...
Frank touched his chin and the
large scratch from the fight on his cheek. A shower would be a good thing, too. Still, it had to wait until the morning.

Frank yawned. Back to bed now. He needed to recover properly.

He stepped
out in
to the hall, nearly knocking over
a young woman. At first he took her for a tousled teenage boy, but then realized it was a grown-up girl
in her
twent
ies
. She had a round face with large eyes and a snub nose. About a foot shorter than him,
quite chubby
—
or rather, squat
like a gym coach.
W
ide-boned, apparently.
Must have taken
after her dad
.

She squinted sleepily,
shield
ing her face from the lamp over
the mirror.
The girl
was wearing
pajamas
with
a
teddy
-
bear
print
and a pair of pink s
lippers
topped
with puppies' heads
.