Sympathy for the Devil

epilogue

At the police station in East Harlem, Bill no longer sat at the beat desk in the back of the place but now he was seated right at the front. In a much nicer desk that he arranged to face out so that his back was to the wall and he'd have a view of everyone. His shift was about over, he just needed to double check some police reports he'd let pile up over the week. He was so busy patrolling the streets, that by the time his shift ended, he just wanted to grab a beer and go home to his cat Minx.

"Ay, Bill!" Jason, his partner, said sliding his leather police cap off his head. "I'm out for the day. See you in the morning." He punctuated tapping his knuckles on Bill's desk.

"No drinks tonight?" He said a bit disappointed.

"Nah, sorry. Baby girl is sick with colic." Jason frowned.

"Francis?"

"No, that's my oldest. It's Ruby, the 8-month-old."

"Oh! Right, right..." Bill often zoned out when Jason talked on and on about his kids. He had 3, two girls and a boy in the middle and despite having a near newborn, his wife was already a few months pregnant with a fourth. Bill was one of the first lucky few to hear the news. "Well, then 'til morning. Hope Ruby feels better." Bill gave Jason a little nod while he shuffled his paperwork into a neat pile.

Jaime, the youngest secretary, came in right as Jason passed her at the threshold. She was still very shy and painfully stiff around Bill. She stood with her arms to her side and cleared her throat lightly.

"Uh, are you here for these?" Bill lifted his reports.

"Oh, I can take those." With her feet still planted she awkwardly reached for them and clutched them to her chest. She's weird, Bill thought, but he thanked her. "But I came to tell you, that there is a caller on line three for you."

"Caller? You know who?" Bill said pulling the beige rotary phone on his desk closer to him. He hardly got personal calls to his desk but when he did it was family who he'd given the direct number to.

"No... they said you'd 'know who it is'," she pursed her lips before speaking again. "And they told me to, 'hurry up'."

Bill ran his hand over his mouth to mask his amused expression. "Okay, sorry about that Jaime." He picked up the receiver and hit the third square button flashing red at him. He had an inkling of who it might be calling. "Angela?" He smiled to himself over the fact that he could call her by her real name.

"Christ, what took that girl so long? My break's almost over." She said on the other end of her call. He could hear several dings from a bell in the background and loud chatter. "Bill?"

"Uh yeah. Sorry I should have given you this number too."

"It's no big deal. Are you busy?"

"No, just about to head out."

"Listen, I know we're going out tomorrow and all but could you come to the diner? Um, some lawyers came by earlier and I'm kinda spooked."

"What?" Bill stood out of his seat.

"How do they know where I work? I think they were part of Stan's defense team..."

"Shit... uh, I'll be on the way okay. Don't talk to anyone else."

Bill got into his brown 1977 Oldsmobile Cutlass that he bought lightly used as a late Christmas present to himself. Tossing his police cap on the passenger seat, he glanced down at himself and suddenly felt like a square in his uniform. He turned the keys in the ignition with a huff and shrugged, he was just going to have to deal with it.

Arriving at the diner, he jogged from across the street where he parked. The door chime rang loudly when he walked in. All the waitresses, turned their heads acknowledging the police officer. All, except for Star, who was busy wiping down a booth by the window. He gave the waitresses a polite nod passing them by to meet her. Star looked over when she noticed a tall figure approaching.