Free Once Were Cops by Ken Bruen

felt his temper flare but reined it in,
    said,
    “It is fucking personal, this Kebar, he thinks he’s
    some kind of cowboy, and the kid, he’s got a mouth
    on him, I aim to shut it the fuck up.”
    A sergeant looked in, said, “Your boy is here.”
    McCarthy said, “Let’s bring him to the morgue
    first, you think?” Rodriguez said, “Youse de boss
    man.” Always riled McCarthy when he went street.
    Kebar was in full uniform, his expression neutral,
    asked,
    “The fuck you want now, don’t you parasites ever
    do any real work?” McCarthy smiled, said, “We
    need you to view a John Doe.” Kebar asked, “I
    have a choice?” McCarthy said, “This way. We’ll
    even give you a ride.”
    THE MORGUE WAS COLD WITH THAT
    ANTISEPTIC SMELL that made you want to gag,
    a stretcher was in the center of the room, covered
    with a sheet, McCarthy pulled it off in one sweep
    and Kebar pulled back. A charred husk of what
    might have once been human was curled up on the
    stretcher. Kebar sneered,
    “Crispy critter … how the fuck am I supposed to
    know who the hell it is?”
    Rodriguez spoke, startling them, said,
    “We’ve saved you the problem, his dental records
    identify him as an informant named Lonnie … your
    informant, we believe.”
    Kebar was stunned but kept his face in gear, the
    world kept tilting out of focus, he said,
    “You already know, why’d you bring me here?”
    McCarthy got right in his face, said,
    “See, here’s the thing, tough guy, ol’ Lonnie was
    last seen getting into your car, and hey, next time he
    shows, he’s French fries.”
    Kebar snarled,
    “Get outa my face and use your fucking head,
    would I waste my own informant?”
    Rodriguez said,
    “You might if he didn’t give you what you wanted,
    and we know you’re … upset, at… what happened
    to your sister.”
    Kebar whirled on him, his fists in balls, and
    McCarthy said, “I hear she fought like a wild thing
    when the perp was riding her.”
    And he was flat on his back, a pile driver of a
    punch from Kebar, Rodriguez had his gun against
    Kebar’s neck, said,
    “Back off… now.”

    Kebar did, reluctantly, said,
    “Pulling guns on your own, that where you guys
    have got to?”
    He looked down at McCarthy, who was trying to
    sit up, spat in his face, said,
    “You ever talk about my sister like that, I’ll
    fucking kill you.”
    McCarthy got shakily to his feet, said,
    “Assaulting an officer and making death threats, I
    could lock you up right now.” Kebar sneered, “So,
    go ahead.” McCarthy shook his head, said, “Give
    us Morronni, I’ll see you do only one to five.”
    Kebar laughed. “Fuck you.” McCarthy said,
    “Okay, mister, play hardball but you might
    consider you’re taking the Irish kid with you, now
    get the fuck out of here, start packing for the pen.”
    Kebar turned without a word and left. Rodriguez
    said, “Your jaw is swelling, better get an ice
    pack.”
    McCarthy rubbed his face, the pain was kicking in,
    and he said,
    “The bastard is out of control, just where we want
    him.”
    And he smiled, despite his swelling jaw, he
    thought his answer was good.
    He liked that.
    It was … cool.
    I BORROWED NORA’S CAR, A BATTERED
    PONTIAC AND
    what a hoor to maneuver. I’d learned to drive on a
    stick shift and this automatic gig, though obviously
    easier, took some getting used to.
    And …
    New Yorkers, not the most patient bunch, you learn
    as you go. I’d taken to following Kebar, if he was
    taking down the guy who attacked Lucia, I wanted
    to be there, Jesus, I had to know what he knew …
    had to. But screwing with McCarthy was part of it.
    And Lucia … she was the true reason.
    Word was she wasn’t coming back from the
    catatonia she’d retreated into and that made me so
    hot, being interrupted … how do they say …
    midmaneuver … just when I was in the zone, lost

in the ice palace.
    Four nights I followed him, trying to be real
    careful. He’d, as he’d taught me … ream me a