A Bad Night's Sleep by Michael Wiley Page B

trouble recognizing him. He looked the same as when we went through the academy together in the 1980s. Some guys get lucky that way naturally. Some work hard at the weights, diets, and the pharmacy to stay lucky. I figured he was a natural.
    The woman with the black kinky hair and intense eyes watched him as he crossed to our table, and she didn’t turn away when he flashed her a smile.
    He flashed me the smile too as he sat at the table. “Joe,” he said with the warmth of an old friend. “It’s been a long time. Life treating you well?”
    I turned to Raj and said, “The last time I saw Earl, I was still in the department but barely. Then I lost the job, cleaned myself up, got married and divorced, played dad to my nephew, and opened a detective business that’s kept my head above water most of the time. Now I’ve shot one of his friends and I’m drunk on his whiskey and mine. He knows damn well how life’s treating me.” Then I looked up at Johnson and said, “Couldn’t be better,” I said. “You?”
    His smile held. “Can’t complain. I’m keeping busy.”
    A waitress brought him a glass with a piece of lime and something clear in it. He hugged her around the waist. She gave him a smile and he let her go.
    “You like this place?” he said.
    I shrugged. “For an overpriced whorehouse, sure.”
    He ignored that. “My friends and I have worked hard to get where we are.” The warmth dropped from his voice. “We’re not going to let someone like you come in and fuck things up. You understand that, right?”
    “I understand what you are.”
    He looked at me, patient. “You know, I’m a slow but steady learner. You and the other guys were way ahead of me in the academy. Everyone expected great things from you. Not me. I was a screwball. I’m sure you remember that. But I got through and I kept learning afterward. And now here I am, and there you are. Ironic, right?”
    “I guess so.”
    He stared hard at me. “Kind of sad too.”
    “I suppose so. An honest jerk like me sitting at the table of an evil jerk like you—you’d think there’s no justice.”
    He hit the table with his fist. The others in the lounge looked at him for a moment, then went back to their conversations. He spoke quietly. “Why did you meet with Bill Gubman this afternoon?”
    “I already told your friends. Ask them.” I pointed my thumb at Raj. “Ask him. ”
    “I’m asking you.”
    I said, “Bill and I go back as far as you and I do. But I respect and like him.”
    “What did you tell him?”
    I looked Johnson in the eyes and said, “I gave it all to him. I named you and Raj and the others. I gave him the dates and locations where you’ve boosted copper and appliances. I told him you’re running prostitutes and said where. I told him you’ve got plans to poke your sticky fingers into all the corners of the city. What do you think I told him?”
    Johnson sighed. “Did you give him any of our names?”
    “If I told Gubman an eighth of what I know about you, you would be in jail, not sitting in your fancy club pinching your waitresses. No, I didn’t give him your names.”
    Johnson said, “Why not?”
    “I don’t know,” I said and kept spinning the story. “I guess I’m tired of being fucked over.”
    Johnson rubbed his fingers on his chin, eyed me. “I don’t trust you,” he said.
    “Then you did learn something in all those years since the academy.”
    Johnson shook his head and laughed liked he figured I was an idiot. Then he stood. “I’m watching you.”
    I shrugged and lied again. “An eighth of what I know could bring you down.”
    He shrugged too. “Just as long as it doesn’t.” He crossed the room and disappeared back through the door he’d come out of.
    Raj whistled low. “Earl’s a dangerous guy to play with.”
    “Yeah,” I said, “but he knows I can outplay him.”
    Raj laughed like he figured the whiskey had me thinking I was tougher than I was but he leaned in and said,