Harry Dolan by Bad Things Happen

Her hand drew back. It went to the front of her blouse. “You’re not talking about the fire,” she said, studying him. “I should have known. You’ve stayed away from me these past two weeks.”
    Loogan’s face held no expression. He stared at the photograph over the fireplace.
    Finally he said, “The thing is, I like him.”
    “Yes, it would have to be that,” she said in a small voice. “I knew you liked him. If you didn’t, it wouldn’t have worked. If you hated him, I wouldn’t have had anything to do with you. But he’s your friend. And I should have known—David Loogan is a loyal man.”
    She sighed. “You and Tom, you’re like that fable. What’s the name of it?” “I don’t know—”
    “Androcles,” she said. “Androcles and the lion.” She paused to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “Androcles is an escaped slave, wandering through the woods. He finds a lion with a bleeding paw. The lion has stepped on a thorn. Androcles pulls it out.”
    “I thought it was a mouse who pulled out the thorn.”
    “That’s a different fable,” she said. “Androcles removes the thorn, and after that the lion befriends him. He hunts for him and brings him food. Then both of them are captured, and Androcles the slave is sentenced to be thrown to the lion in the Colosseum. But instead of tearing Androcles to pieces, the lion lies down at his feet.”
    Loogan leaned back against the sofa. “Am I Androcles in this scenario?”
    “You’re the lion,” Laura said. “The lion is grateful. He’s not going to attack Androcles. He’s not going to let any harm come to Androcles at all.” She smiled faintly. “He’s certainly not going to sleep with Androcles’ wife.”
    She moved close to him, let her head rest in the hollow of his shoulder. “Poor David. You were afraid to tell me, weren’t you? You thought I’d cry.”
    “I thought you’d make me change my mind,” he said.
    “I feel like doing both, but I won’t. I’ll leave if you want.”
    He put his arm around her. “You don’t have to leave.”
    “I don’t want to. I want to sit here for a while and not say anything. Is that all right?”
    “Sure.”
     
     
     
    Loogan woke in the semi-dark. Laura Kristoll was standing over him. He seized her wrist and sat up sharply.
    “Easy, David. It’s only me.”
    “Dark,” he said.
    “I turned off the lamp. I’m leaving now.” She had her coat on.
    “What time is it?” he asked.
    “Twenty after seven. What’s the matter?”
    He got to his feet. “I forgot about Tom. I’m supposed to meet him.”
    “Comb your hair first. You look like you’ve been sleeping. Don’t frown, David. We haven’t done anything wrong.”
    She kissed him on the cheek and then turned and went out without saying anything more.
    He went to the phone and dialed Kristoll’s number at the office. After three rings he got Kristoll’s voice mail. He left a message saying he was on his way.
    He put on a fresh shirt, brushed his teeth, and got his coat. His car was on the street. He walked around to the driver’s side and the tires caught his eye immediately. Both of them were flat. Someone had scratched an obscenity in the paint of the driver’s door. He felt a wave of anger, looked up and down the street. Saw no one but a white-haired lady walking her dog.
    Standing in the cold, he deliberated. He would need to have the car towed, but that could wait. He could call a cab, but that would take time. It was twelve blocks to the Gray Streets office. He would walk.
    Gloves from the car, one last look around, he set off eastward. He walked in the street, avoided the shadows of the sidewalk. A brisk pace warmed him.
    Houses with lighted windows. Gutters full of leaves. Traffic picked up as he got closer to downtown. He moved onto the sidewalk.
    Near Main Street he heard sirens. Ahead, a police car crept through an intersection, red and blue lights flashing. Another followed a few seconds later.
    Loogan reached