“He’s kind of hard to get a hold of. Jittery. Doesn’t want to sit down very long, you know what I mean?” I say. Avery nods, and I hand him my glass. “Can I get another one?” He pours another half glass and gives it back to me. For only the second time in my life, I feel comfortable, despite all my bruises and missing teeth. “Avery,” I say. He looks up, questioning with his eyes. “I haven’t thanked you for saving me back there. I was in a jam, no doubt about it.”
“Forget it. Those cops,” he says. “They had it coming, you know?”
“I guess,” I say, and toss down the rest of the last glass I want for the evening. I’m at a place now where I can stop drinking and still go to sleep with a clear conscience. No real compunction to, just a sense that it’s the right thing to do. Get some sleep with a clear head, wake up with my wits. It’ll be a first for me in a long while.
Avery shifts in the chair. “You want to look at that box of papers we took from the wharf cops? That is, if you’re not in too bad a way.”
I nod. “Sure. Bring them on up. I’ll be here.” He stands up and stalks to the door, and again I am amazed at his size. When he’s gone, I give my old buddy Hank a call. He answers almost immediately.
“Hank, it’s Ferret. Shut up and let me talk. I need you to check New York force employment records for a guy named Avery. I don’t know his first name. But he worked there as recently as three years ago. He’s about thirty-three years old, built like a train. I know it’s not much to go on, but try and dig up what you can.”
“Is everything all right?” he asks.
“For the moment, though there’s going to be some inquiries about a couple of wharf cops that got plugged in the private office of one Ernst Villig. They’ll say they were investigating his murder earlier this evening, but that isn’t true. If you hear anything, can you let me know?”
“What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Jack? You killed two police officers?” Hank sounds a bit upset.
“Listen, it’s not me. I gotta go. I’ll tell you more later, when I can.” I hear him start to say something but I hang up on him and sit back down in my chair.
Twenty seconds later Avery pushes the door open with his foot and steps inside the office with the box.
“You sure you’re up for this?” he asks me. I nod.
“I’ve been hit before. You don’t have to worry about me. Let’s have a look.”
I clear some room on the floor in front of my desk and he sets the box down between us. I pull out a small stack of papers of different colors; some look like carbon copies, some are white and bonded