Free Trust by George V. Higgins

seems to happen, must’ve got away with it. Which was where
I
was stupid. Should’ve known that one time was enough to do the damage. Might as well’ve put an ad in the fucking
Journal
—once they saw this fucking car, everybody knew. After that they all were watching. Pretty soon they tipped the cops. And the cops don’t like this judge, or at leastthe top cop don’t. Thinks the judge’s been a little easy on bad guys. So, I don’t think they were sitting out there, camped out watching us, but I do think they told some people, who it was that tipped them off: ‘If another day comes when you’re sure he’s in there, drop a dime and let us know. We’ll handle it from there.’
    “I look at my watch. What good does that do me? I don’t know how long he’s been in there. He comes in at various times. The point is I don’t know if he just got there, and maybe he’s lucky, and nobody noticed it yet, or if he’s been fucking his brains out for hours, and fifty guys noticed the car. I think: The fuck difference does it make? One guy saw it, or fifty? All it takes is the one—one’s all it takes. I better go back in the office. Because, see, I can’t just go down to the pay phone at Chuckie’s, call him from there and scream at him. For one thing, the phones in the rooms only ring or go out after they go through the switchboard. For another thing, the pay phone at Chuckie’s is inside of Chuckie’s damned store. Right next to the cash registers. Where my fucking ex-wife works, and she don’t fuckin’ like me, and’d only jap me if she could. And she’s got ears on her like a fuckin’ radar dish. I’m surprised the navy didn’t grab her up and take her down the boatyard there, install her on one of the subs. I talk to him and she can hear me, might as well call Walter Cronkite.
    “I put the Lincoln back. I go back in the office. I call up his room. He answers the phone. Sounds like he’s running the Preakness. I say to him: ‘Judge, I know you’re my pal. How come I can’t go for some beer?’ And he says: ‘What?’ I say: ‘It’s a very hot day, and I see I run out of beer. So I think: “Well in that case, I’ll have to go out, pick up a six-pack of beer.” But thenI go out, and I see that car, and therefore I’m back in my office. Because I got to ask you, you out of your mind? Have you lost all your fuckin’
grip?
Because that’s what it looks like to me, you bring that car here again.’
    “He says: ‘Jeez, Jimmy, I hadda. I’m on vacation. I been on vacation all month. Which is why I haven’t been in. My own car’s the beach house, the Cape. My wife’s sister’s with her and my youngest’s at home. So I hadda leave them my usual car, and then I come over, the bus, and there’s traffic. I didn’t have time, make arrangements, the city, borrow somebody else’s today. But a month is too long, go without seeing Lauren. I
hadda
see Lauren, ’fore August. A month’s too long a time. It’s only one time. Why get so upset? Nothing happened, I did it before, you got so upset. Not a goddamned thing ever happened.’
    “I say: ‘Judgie, my pal, something happened. Believe me. What happened’s the very same reason, you shouldn’t’ve done it again. Now take my advice for a change, will you, please? Get dressed. Get dressed as fast as you can. Come out alone, and get in your car, and get your ass out of this place. Maybe so far, just
maybe
so far, nobody’s had time to get down here. I don’t think the chances of that’re too good, but maybe your fuckin’ luck holds. So I’m going out for some beer now, all right? It’s your own good, you know, I am telling you this. Be a good pal and take my advice.’
    “I hang up. I go through the drill with the sign and the door. I act like everything’s normal. I get into my car and I drive up to Chuckie’s, exchange a few digs with my ex, like I’m not in a hurry and everything’s peachy, nothing to worry about. I get back the