Free The Nightlife: New York (The Nightlife Series) by Travis Luedke

the
corner liquor store).
    Konowicz ate, slept, and drank of ineptitude to such excess
that it rivaled his alcohol consumption.  When Schueller confronted Konowicz four
years ago about his alcoholism, trying to offer the idiot some help, Konowicz
replied, “No Alcoholics Anonymous for me, no sir.  That shit’s for quitters! 
The only twelve steps I need are the steps leading from the car to the checkout
counter of the liquor store!”  The idiot had laughed it off.  You can lead a
horse to water but you can’t make it drink.
    Schueller watched through the blinds of his office window as
Konowicz approached his fat sidekick, Oberman.  They couldn’t be more different
looking, and yet they were two sides of the same coin.  They matched each other
nearly point for point.  Their lives were like mirror images of one another. 
They damn near finished each other’s sentences.
    Both detectives shared the same tendency for corruption and
bribery.  This was the primary reason Schueller had pared them up as partners
six years ago.  Better to let two bad apples rot together rather than watch
them pervert others on the force with their corrupt influence.
    Schueller sighed, rubbed a hand across his face and mumbled
to himself, “They’re poster children for labor union reform.  If the union can
make allowance for their continued employment, it must be fundamentally flawed.”
    Schueller was well aware that both detectives spent their
unproductive days skating on the minimum effort required to keep their jobs.  They
played the Rodney Dangerfield role, I get no respect!   He also knew they
spent their lonely nights shaking down pimps, prostitutes, and drug dealers for
a little bonus pay, a few hundred here, a few hundred there.  Both having hit
the limits of their careers years ago, they took it upon themselves to get
ahead the old-fashioned way: threats, blackmail, extortion, and coercion.
    Schueller sincerely hoped he could finagle a signed
statement from this mystery blonde and put an end to both their careers.  It
took a lot of dirt to get rid of an NYPD officer, but those two had been
pushing the limits of tolerable police behavior for far too long.  The office
of internal affairs had a dossier on both of them longer than most criminal rap
sheets.
     
    * * * *
     
    Detective Konowicz was not a happy man.  Every time he
spoke, turned his head, tried to eat or drink, his nose spiked pain throughout
his skull, causing a series of throbbing waves of misery.  His Oxycontin pain
pills kicked in with a nice buzz, but the catcalls and teasing from his fellow
officers left him with a foul attitude.
    “Hey, Konowicz, is it true you had your ass handed to you by
a hundred pound bimbo?”
    “Hey!  We should put the bimbo on The Jerry Springer Show with Konowicz and Oberman.  After she’s done kicking their asses all over the
stage, she can do a number on the stripper pole!”  This knee-slapper had them
all busting a gut, tears streaming down their faces.
    “I heard she zapped Oberman right in da freakin’ nuts wit’
your piece.  You gotta give her points for originality on that one!”
    “I bet the chief had their balls for breakfast over that
shit!”  The legend of their confrontation with the blonde grew with each
retelling.
    “Everybody’s a fuckin’ stand-up comedian,” Konowicz grumbled
under his breath so as to avoid inciting further comment.  The incident with
the little blonde cunt was the most recent humiliation he’d endured, but it was
a symptom of a much larger problem.  This event sat atop a heaping list of
embarrassing disappointments.  The list stretched back over the decades,
extending throughout twenty-two years of an unrewarding and meritless police
career.
    Life had not been good to Konowicz, but his police work
provided a nice outlet for the anger and frustration.  Out on the streets, he
and Oberman didn’t take any crap from criminals unfortunate enough to land in
their path.