Free Right To Die - Jeremiah Healy by Jeremiah Healy

And
you're back here in person. That means you'll be wanting another
favor, huh?"
    "You know a detective over at Area A, William
Neely?"
    "Neely? Yeah, from a time back. Why?"
    "l'm representing somebody in his neighborhood.
The client got some threats, and I'd like to talk with him about
them. Wondered what kind of guy he is."
    Murphy glanced out his window and then back. "This
client, he or she?"
    "She."
    "She go to Neely?"
    "Her secretary got referred to him."
    "Her tough luck."
    "Why?"
    "This between you and me, or you going to be
explaining it to real folks?"
    "You and me."
    "Neely, he fancies himself an old-time hard-ass
dick. Runs a few informants, reacts when the brass gets edgy.
Otherwise, low profile and count the days."
    "To retirement time."
    "Uh-huh."
    "I don't see what I've got jeopardizing his
pension."
    "What do you got?"
    I went through it, without names.
    Murphy said, "Neely, he got the complaint to
start with, it'll stay with him unless somebody gets nasty enough
with a deadly weapon."
    "I wasn't trying to go over his head here,
Lieutenant."
    "Sure you were, Cuddy. And once you meet Neely,
you'll realize you were right to try too."
    "Any suggestions on how to approach him?"
    "Neely ever took a promotion exam, he got stuck
on name and address. Play up to the man, let him talk."

"Okay. Thanks."
    I was at the door when Murphy said, "Oh, and
Cuddy?"
    "Yeah."
    "Neely's got a nickname. 'Beef'."
    "Beef."
    "Yeah. Don't say it to him, but use it, huh?"
    "Use it how?"
    "Take the man to lunch."
    I looked at my watch. "But I thought I'd go over
there now."
    "Won't matter to old Beef."
    "Thanks again, Lieutenant."
    "One more thing."
    "Yes?"
    "You'd best visit a
bank somewheres first."
    * * *
    "Pass the Worcestershire, will ya?"
    "Sure."
    "And maybe some more of that A-1 too."
    I put both bottles in front of Neely. He spritzed the
Worcestershire on his second cut of prime rib. The meat lapped two
inches a side over the platter.
    Victoria Station was done in a railroad car motif. It
was the one restaurant Neely had said would have prime rib for sure,
that time of afternoon. I had offered to cab it, but he said, "It'll
look better, I sign out a unit." We were the only people in the
room except for our waitress, and even she left, probably to call
Central Supply and tell them to butcher another dozen head for the
third course.
    "My hand to God, I love this joint."
    At least, I think that's what Neely said.
    "They got — " The tongue wasn't quite
quick enough to catch a dribble of jus cascading down his chin and
onto his tie. Which was wider than the napkin he'd cornered into his
collar. '
    "They got real food here, you know? The kinda
stuff we fought wars to eat."
    Neely had stopped the beer after one stein, switching
to tonic water. About six feet tall, counting crew cut, I couldn't
even guess his weight. The knot of his tie was only an article of
faith under the jowls. He rocked his head after every third or fourth
bite, as though he were positioning the food to slide down a
different chute. Small eyes were squinched up under the brows, a
piece of toilet paper on a shaving cut near his right ear.
    Neely generously rested his knife to point at my
salad bowl. "That all you're eating?"
    "Diet," I said.
    He nodded like he'd heard the word but never studied
the language that spawned it. I waited until he finished the slab and
was tricking with the little veins of meat marbled in the fat.
    "Neely?"
    "Uh-huh."
    "About these threats?"
    "Yeah, sure. What about them?"
    "What do you think?"
    "Think." He put down his utensils, rolled
his rump as if to fart, then just wallowed deeper into the booth. "I
think this broad's asked for it, what I think."
    "Can you tell me what you found out on the
notes'?"
    "The notes? Jesus, everybody but Jimmy Hoffa
handled the things and the envelopes before the little secretary
brought 'em in to me. Even so, I followed routine. Had 'em run
through the lab."
    "You take elimination prints from