Galloway's Lying and I Can't Say a Word

O'Toole had donuts at the desk, evidently, a thank you from the Krispy Kreme man for one of officers clearing his front door of a homeless crazy.  "MacKenzie.  Galloway's looking for you. Donut?"

I refused the donut but did take some time to get a fresh cup of coffee.   I was stalling.  I knew it.  But I'm just not good at playing poker and that is what I was going to have to do with Galloway, bluff my way through it.  I took a deep breath, turned the glass knob on his door,  "Captain, you needed to see me?"

"Yes, Ian, come in."  Galloway was there in his white shirt and his trademark red suspenders, his wire frame reading glasses half-dangling out his pocket.  He was about to drag me into his lies and I wasn't going to be able to say a word.

"Ian, I wanted to bring you up to date on this Patrick Flanagan murder."

"Yea, you said we got something on that goon of Macready's?"

Galloway was playing it smooth.  "Yea, we got a positive ID from a tipster who saw him toss the gun.  MacKenzie, I wish they all were this easy."

"Yea, Captain.  That'd make life a whole lot easier, wouldn't it?"

"I'll need your notes from the murder scene, so I can get this file over to the prosecutors.  Do you think you could get them typed up by noon?"

"No problem, Cap.""And MacKenzie, any progress on the O'Hara girl.  I got a call from Wild Bill's attorney checking on the progress." 

"Sorry, Cap.  Using up a lot of shoe leather, but it's dead in the water as dead could be."

Galloway returned to his desk chair, his way of signaling that your time was now over.  He closed with the request, "Ian.  Keep me up-to-date on that case.  I don't want this whole affair to blow up in our faces."

"Gotcha, Captain.  When I know, you'll know."

On the return trip past O'Toole's tall desk, I did grab a donut. I eat when I'm stressed.  I hate lying and  I didn't know who did the more lying just then, me or Galloway.  "H'mm, caramel frosted. That's different." 

In my mailbox, more administrative junk, another card from the Commissioner inviting us to some awards event - we give out more plaques- and my self-delivered reminder note ... PICK UP LAUNDRY AT CHANG'S ON FRIDAY.  I'm not sure why I have such a problem remembering that but I do.

Before I could get to my desk, O'Toole bellowed.  "MacKenzie, the D.A.s office called.  They want you to swing by this morning.  I've got the case number.  They need your file, pronto."

"I'm on it."

I got the old Underwood  to work clicking out words.  They typing itself is not all that hard; it's all those carbon copies you have to make that makes it such a pain. But I really didn't have all that much to say and I figured Galloway simply wanted my signature going on record as being tied in with this case.  As I typed I kept thinking, "Watch out, Mac, you're about to get involved in a whole lot of regret."


The End

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