“It’s the right thing. And it’s a good thing when a hardheaded man like him comes to his senses and accepts responsibility for his actions.”
“Hardheaded, listen to you. Still, thanks for going back and trying, and for being honest with him.”
If only she knew. Hell, it’s gonna be worth every penny ’cause of all the shit I put her through with that little girl. It’s like penance.
“I feel like having drinks after work. Join me?” she asks.
“Yeah, I’m meeting up with Luna and McGuire at Shelly’s. Actually, was going to call you, too, but you beat me to it. It’ll be a celebration all around. They just made a great case outta that kidnapped girl I left you with.”
“And here I was about to offer the same thing. Shelly’s with the old crew sounds good.”
“I’ll drop by around five thirty?”
“See you then,” she says.
I slip the phone back in my pocket and smile ’cause I now have a good excuse to wear the new suit I bought.
I open the washer and pull out the bag of money.
I take it to the living room, where I dump it out on the hardwood floor. Some of the bills try to roll away, under the sofa and under the entertainment center I have against the wall on the other side of the room from me. I scoop everything up into a nice pile and start pulling rubber bands off the rolled-up bills and separating them into stacks according to their denomination.
Two hours later, all I’ve managed to do is cover most of the living room floor with several stacks of ones, fives, tens, and twenties. It’ll take me more time than I have right now to count up all this, so I grab a stack of twenties and then another and another and another, until I have four hundred twenties.
I count them out into eight stacks of fifty and then secure them with a rubber band. After that, I count out about another five hundred in twenties for walking-around money. I use the rest of the rubber bands for all the uncounted stacks and then put those, along with the eight grand, back in the bag. I fold up the five hundred in twenties, slip it in my front pants pocket, and take the bag back to the washer.
I head to the shower to freshen up, hopefully wash away some of that dirty money. Otherwise I’m sure I’ll feel great.
Nineteen
I’ve been doing this for so long I know most of the tricks, even picked up a few pointers from some prisoners I debriefed back in the day. Beat all but two of the random piss tests back then, too. I was caught off guard for the one that got me when I was called in twice in one week.
It’s not so hard to hide this lifestyle of mine if you stick to a defined procedure. Without certain rules, you’re either gonna die or get yourself caught. Wish I knew then all that I know now, because I did love the job. And yes, there was more than a bit of self-loathing because of what that job meant and what I had become. I don’t blame any of it on the work. Fuck that. It’s my own damn weakness. It was and is something that has always been there, a malady I actually freed myself from when I decided I was going to be a cop.
I was a strong man through the academy, my years walking a beat, then as a vice officer, and even a couple years into my work at Narcotics Branch. I don’t have an excuse for that day when I pocketed a little something for myself during the course of a search warrant. I don’t even know what I was thinking when I did it, except that I could.
I’m actually okay with my life now, but the worst thing, I think, would be getting caught or found out. Especially by someone close, like Costello, or one of my good buddies, like Luna. That’s why I have rules. As hard as it is, I gotta maintain self-control. And as hard as it is most of the time, I gotta force myself to be social. It’d be easy to be a recluse. I do venture out, but usually to spots in my neighborhood around U Street or downtown at places like Shelly’s. It’s a good spot, a comfortable hangout, and one of the few places in DC where you’re still allowed to smoke cigars.
Back in the day, I used to go with McGuire and Luna, sometimes Costello. A refuge for the boys and girls at the branch. Nowadays it’s the same thing, but with close people like Costello, after a long, challenging day at work or at the end of a trial, and with old buds like McGuire and Luna for a couple of drinks and a cigar, a time to catch up.