Mic the Dic

It was just about 4 when I pulled up in the driveway at the university where I had dropped off Holly a few hours earlier. There were a few more cars sitting at the curb, obviously other folks waiting to pick up someone from class. But the hair on the back of my neck was telling me not everything was as it appeared.

I think you have heard me mention, when you're a cop, private or otherwise, you have to learn to trust your instincts. My instincts were all keyed-up about something, they were trying to tell me something. I had to take a few minutes to listen to what they were telling me.

I scanned around the area, paying particular attention to the cars parked around me. That's when the bells and whistles went off. "Why would a white unmarked police car be sitting at the curb, just a few vehicles up from me?" It sure looked like a plain wrapper, but the university's police only had two unmarked cars, both of them dark blue. The city police have a lot of unmarked cars, but none of them obviously look like a white unmarked car. This one had the spotlight on the corner of the windshield, a couple extra antennas, and what appeared to be lights on the rear deck. There were two guys sitting in the front seat. It looked like it was a couple of years old so maybe it was a used police car. It sure looked clean if it was. Repainted? Maybe. A couple of the county departments use white unmarked cars, maybe one of them are picking up a wife or kid. Every answer I came up with, I'd come up with a half dozen reasons why it wasn't.

I called Holly's cell phone.

Holly whispered, "Hi Mick."

"Holly, just listen to me, you don't have to answer. Wait inside the classroom until I tell you to come out. I'm outside now, but just wait until you hear from me."

Once again she whispered, "Okay," as she disconnected.

I called the university police and asked for Phil. The operator told me he was on patrol, so I asked her if she ask him to stop by and see me. She asked me to hold on for a minute. When she came back, she told me he was on his way. I had no sooner hung up with her when Dead-eye pulled up behind me in the dark blue unmarked car. I got out and walked behind my truck. He got out of his car and met me.

"What's up, Mick?"

"Did you see the white unmarked car a few up in front of me?"

He peeked around the corner of my truck. "I do now. Who is it?"

"I was hoping you could tell me."

"It's not one of ours. I don't recognize it. I'm going to drive past it and get the tag. Let's see who it is."

"Okay. I'll keep an eye on them."

Phil got back in his car and casually drove past the white car. A minute later he pulled up behind me again. He was snickering. "You ready for this?", he asked.

"Don't tell me."

"It's your friendly local TV station."

"They don't give up, do they?"

"I guess not."

"Anything you can do to help me out?"

"Sure thing, Mick. They're trespassing. They have no legitimate reason for being here, unless they lie to me and tell me they are waiting to pick up someone. Then I'll have to verify that. After all, they've been told to stay off the university property."

"Okay. Is there another driveway on the other side of that building?"

"No. But there is a driveway for service vehicles. Why don't you tell her to meet you at the loading dock for that building? I'll keep them busy for a while."

"That's great Phil. I owe you one." I patted him on the shoulder as I went past him. I handed him one of my business cards that has my cell phone number on it. "Call me." I got in my truck and called Holly.

"I'm waiting by the doors," she said as she answered.

"Do you know where the loading dock is on the back side of the building?"

"Yes. But only from outside."

"Okay, but don't come out the main doors. There's a car out here from the news. I think they are waiting for you. Go out and to the left towards the other side. I'll meet you at the loading dock."

"Okay. Be there in a flash."

I was backing into the loading dock as we disconnected. In about a minute, Holly came out a door right next to it. She smiled at me as she walked to the passenger side of the truck and got in.

"Hiya, Mick." She leaned over and kissed me as she climbed in.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, fine. Where are these guys?"

"Right out in front. The police are checking them out for us. We should be able to make a clean getaway." I drove slowly up the driveway from the dock. As I got to the main driveway, Phil had his police car in front of the white car. He had all of the pretty red and blue lights going and a second police car was just pulling up. Taking advantage of the situation, I departed the area post haste. I really would have like to have known if it was the two guys I led on the wild goose chase this morning.

"So," I said, "How'd you find the loading dock?"

"Well, using my college noodle, I went to the basement and followed the signs that said, "loading dock".

"Very good. I think you may want to tell Mr. Schaffer that they are still stalking you. Make sure you use the word stalking. If he asks if they scare you, tell him yes."

"Okay."

Holly called the attorney and told him exactly what I told her. I could tell by her replies that he was pissed. Good! Next to a woman scorned, a woman on PMS, and a pissed off cop, not necessarily in that order, comes a pissed off lawyer.

It was almost five by the time I got back to the office. Being that late, I was able to park out in front. Holly and I walked in. Carla was finishing putting away everything for the weekend.

"Hey Boss. Call Mr. Schmidt. He finally returned your call. He'll be in his office until around six."

"Good, I've been wanting to see how he's doing." By that my cell phone rang.

"Pheury."

"Hi, Mick. It's Phil. I just wanted to let you know how things went."

"So, how'd they like getting thrown off campus again?"

"Actually, this was their first time getting thrown off campus today, but... Did you see the news today? The camera crew that got mugged at the biker bar on the south side?"

"Don't tell me, that was them?"

"It sure was. When I took their information, the camera man made a comment about it not being their day. When I asked him what he meant, the reporter told me all about it. I hope you don't mind, but I told them that, too the best of my knowledge, Holly Armacost was in classes all day. I told them I say her earlier, which I did. They don't have to know it was after their little ordeal."

"Nice job, Phil."

"Was she really stripping down there?"

"No, Phil! When all of that was going on, she was in my office. Those idiots followed the wrong person."

"Damn, I was hoping she was. I'd like to see her show some time."

"Oh well. Sorry Phil. Can you give me their names?"

Phil gave me both of their names which I wrote down on a piece of paper for Holly so she could make sure Mr. Schaffer had the right names. Then we promised to get together for a couple of beers one evening to talk about the "old times". We said our good byes and I handed Holly the names.

I made it back to my office and called David.

"Is, David in? This is Mick Pheury."

"Sure Mr. Pheury. He's expecting your call."

A few seconds later, "Hi Mick. I'm sorry it took so long to get back to you. I've been in court all day."

"That's okay, David. It wasn't anything urgent. I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"All things considered, I think I'm doing fine."

"I'm sorry to hear about Stacy. How is she?"

"I guess she's okay. The hospital did what they had to and released her. I drove her home."

"Did she say anything to you?"

"She barely said a word to me, Mick. When I saw her at the hospital, she started to cry and said she was sorry. She said she guesses she deserves "this". I didn't know if she meant what Armacost did to her or the cold shoulder I was giving her." David gave a slight giggle. "I can't help it Mick, I hate her for what she did, but I still love her. Last night, after I found out what happened, if I'd have gotten hold of Armacost, I'd have killed him."

"I know what you're saying, David. Just be careful what you say in public. There are a lot of people that don't like him, especially right now. I don't want something to happen to him and everybody point the finger at you."

"I'm not that stupid, Mick. He's not worth it, and frankly, neither is Stacy. If I didn't know about last weekend, maybe I'd feel different about last night. How'd Mrs. Armacost take it?"

"I think a lot better than I'd have thought. I think she is so pissed-off that she couldn't care what happens to him."

"I saw the stuff on the news about it. They've been camped out in front of their house all day."

"They have? Their attorney told them they'd better not."

"Yeah, but you know those vultures. They can't give up a chance to do an exclusive. I'm really surprised that they haven't come up here."

"Maybe they know better."

"That may be. They haven't tried to call my office or anything since Monday. Maybe they don't know that I live here."

"I wouldn't bet on it. Remember all the news stories talked about the "next door neighbor" and her name. Even though I don't remember them mentioning you or that you were an attorney, I wouldn't count on them not knowing."

"You're probably right, Mick."

"Well, keep your head up and stay in touch."

"Okay, Mick. Thanks for the concern."

It sounds like he's taking it all pretty well. I don't know if I would. I know I didn't. When I found out my wife was fucking the fireman, I think I went through a similar state of emotions. I wanted to kill him and her, but then I decided on just ruining both of them. Of course, the fireman helped a great deal in that regard. Imagine, turning queer just to help me embarrass him and my wife. Wasn't that nice of him?

Carla and Holly were talking to each other in the outer office. I finished a few things with my emails and turned the computer off for the weekend. I could see Carla doing the same. She checked the coffee maker to make sure it was off. Then she walked to the door.

Carla spoke up, "I'm not paying you overtime. You've been bullshitting on the phone for the last 15 minutes and now..."

I just looked up from my desk, "Haven't we had this conversation before? Have you forgotten who pays who around here?"

"Just trying to throw you a subtle hint, boss. It's like, time to go."

"Yeah, boss," Holly added, "it's time to go. We're hungry."

"Alright, alright. I know when I'm outnumbered. Let's get out of here. It's been a long week." I flipped the light switch to my office as the two girls filed out. I turned off the main light switch, set the alarm, closed the door, and locked it. The three of us hopped into the truck and headed to... like I have to tell you, right?

I called Murphy's en-route and asked Sylvia if she could put my name on the list for a table. She told me it was done.

We got to Murphy's along with the hundred or so other Friday night regulars. Right as we walked in, Sylvia yelled out, "Pheury, party of three! Pheury."

"I'm Pheury." I said as we worked our way through the crowd at the door.

"This way, Mr. Pheury. Sorry for the wait," Sylvia smiled as she led us to the table. Even though it wasn't my normal lunch table in the back corner, it was far enough back that we weren't affected by everybody at the door and bar.

"The wait is always worthwhile. Thanks Sylvie." I leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Any time, Mick. Three of the usuals?" She handed each of us a menu.

"Of course. And put us in for an order of crab dip."

"You've got it. And in case you are interested, tonight's special is the swordfish, grilled for 15.95 or blackened for 16.95. I'll be right back with your drinks."

"Swordfish? Murph's moving up in the world. I stood until Holly and Carla both took their seats, "I'll be right back." I headed to the bar and motioned to Murph.

"Hi, Mick. What'll you have?"

"Nothing, Sylvia is getting them for us. How much would you charge to rent me that garage out back for a few days?"

"A few days? Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure? I mean, I'll rent if from you."

"You're not going to, like, blow it up or anything, right? Elliott Ness isn't going to come kicking in the doors or anything?"

"No, no. I just want to keep Holly's Corvette in there for a few days."

"Don't worry about it. I'm actually glad to see someone using it."

"Damn, Murph. I didn't even know you owned them. How many you got back there?"

"There are 24 garages back there. I'm only renting 14 of them. Most of them are to tenants of the buildings in this block. It's cheaper than feeding the meters all day. Besides I just tack it on to their rent for the building. It makes it convenient."

"What do you mean rent for the building?"

"Didn't you know? I own this whole block. Well at least my brother, sister, and I own it."

"You WHAT? No, I didn't know that. You ole' slum lord you."

"Hell, my grandfather left this place to my father, who left it to me. Back when my father owned it, he bought the building next door, and then the one next to it. He enlarged it to what you see here today. But he decided that buying up old buildings, fixing them up and renting them was so easy, as each one of the buildings in this block came up for sale, he'd buy it, just to keep the developers from coming in and tearing then all down for some god-damned high rise. With the waterfront right behind us, they'd love to get their hands on it. After my father gave it to me, I kept buying up the buildings next to us. My brother and I joined forces about 20 years ago, except with regards to the Pub. This is all mine. A few years ago our sister joined us. Last year, we finally acquired the corner at the other end. Now, the block is ours. It's kind of the Murphy's own urban revitalization plan."

"Damn Murph, this has got to be worth millions."

"It is. Several. But dad left us all rather well off. And I'm not exactly hurting for business. We keep the rent on the buildings rather reasonable, that's why we have nice stable tenants. Mostly professionals, you know, doctors, lawyers, accountants. We've all agreed that we'd rather preserve what little of the old waterfront we can than to make money we can't really use. None of the family are hurting financially. With all the buildings being paid for, we spend the rent money on fixing and restoring them. We've started buying up the next block to do the same thing. In a few years, we'll have these three blocks set up so everybody can see how it used to be before the developers fucked it up with all of these high rises. By the way, how come you've never wanted to rent your office down here?"

"To be honest, I never thought of it. If I'd have known you owned everything down here..."

"When's your lease up?"

"I think it's up in about two months"

"Find something you like and let me know. I'll keep it open for you until you move in."

"That's fabulous Murph. I had no idea. And, of course, I guess you run the Pub just for the fun of it?"

"That's about it. I always wanted to own a nice friendly neighborhood bar, just like my father. I have it. I've thought about tearing out the second floor so we have a 24 foot ceiling. It will help with the air circulation. Then I think about moving the restaurant upstairs to the second floor. You know, put bigger windows for the view. But then I keep thinking about that dirty old, falling down wharf."

"It's a shame that old wharf is behind you. If that weren't there, you'd have a great view."

"Yeah. We've tried to buy it. Back when they closed it, my father tried to buy it. One day, I'll show you the plans we came up with. Extend the Pub back about 30 feet. Put on a deck. Maybe even a couple of slips so some of the boaters could stop by. All kinds of free parking. I'd love to put a multi-level parking garage around here, maybe where the old warehouse is across the street. I'd make it free, just so everybody that wanted to live, work, and shop down here didn't have to feed meters all day. Giving this city more money it won't use around here."

"That would be real nice, Murph. But the city would probably never let you do it."

"Figure it out Mick, there's what, probably 250 parking meters in just the few immediate blacks around here. Between 8 and 6 not one of them stays empty for more than 15 minutes. You get 15 minutes for a quarter, that's a dollar an hour. Monday through Friday, that's around $40,000 a month. This city is making a killing. Even if I charged 50 cents an hour, just to help pay for the electric..."

"Hell, Murph, even if you charged a dollar an hour, people would probably still use it, just to know the car was easier to get to. So why don't you buy the old wharf?"

"Because your pal Armacost wouldn't sell it. ."

"Armacost? He owns it?"

"Yep. Bastard. I hope they put him in jail for the rest of his life."

"For raping that woman?"

"No! Well that too. I was talking about for him not selling me that old wharf."

"Did you see that blonde I came in with?"

"Yeah!"

"That's Holly Armacost."

"The daughter?"

"That's her."

"Let me know when you want to become part of the family."

"Right now! Right now!"

"Keep the garage as long as you need it."

"Thanks, Murph. Thanks a lot."

"And I'm serious about moving your office down here. Take a look around and tell me what one you want."

I walked back to the table. Sylvia had already brought our drinks to the table. I just shook my head as I sat down.

"What's wrong with you?", Carla asked.

"I'm depressed."

Holly looked at me, "Depressed about what?"

"I just found out that Murph doesn't just own Murphy's Pub, he owns this whole frigging block."

"He does? Damn. Why does he work so hard?", Carla asked.

"He said because he likes it." Then it dawned on me. "Hey, Holly. What would it take for your mother to get her hands on a piece of property your father owns?"

"What piece?"

"The old wharf behind here."

"I don't know. Hell. If the divorce goes through smooth, he might have to sell what he owns to split it with her anyway. I'll remember to ask her."

"It would be nice if Murph was able to buy it, tear it down and have an outside terrace and better parking."

"I'll mention it her the first thing tomorrow when I see her. You do know that most of my father's land holdings are in both of their names, don't you?"

"I didn't."

"It's kind of a tax break and liability thing. Until my father develops a piece of property, like the "tower", he keeps it under a property holding company that lists my mother as the president and C.E.O. That way it goes down as a minority owned business. I don't know if the wharf is one of them, but I'll check. After he develops it, he puts it under his company.

"That would be nice if your mother decided to sell the old wharf."

"Right now might be the right time to approach her about it. She might want to sell everything she can control."

"That might be one way to get even with your father."

An evil grin came across Holly's face, "That it would. That it would."

Carla jumped in, "Hey, Mick. Maybe Murph could work a nice deal on a nicer office for you down here."

"Funny you should mention that. We were actually talking about that."

"Yeah. It's closer for me, parking has got to be better. And our favorite after work hangout is right here."

"It would have its advantages."

Sylvia came back with the crab dip. "Are you ready to order?"

"Go ahead girls." I deferred to Holly and Carla.

Carla began, "I'll have a burger, cheddar, lettuce, tomato, and onion. That comes with fries, right?"

"Yes, unless you want chips," Sylvia replied.

"No, fries are fine."

"I'll have the turkey club with chips," Holly said.