The Man Who Wasn't All There by David Handler (book recommendations website TXT) 📕

a.m. when it started falling. Lulu was fast asleep with her head on my left shoulder, snoring softly. Me, I was lying there in bed wide awake. Couldn’t stop thinking about the Talmadge brothers, about who had wanted them dead and why.

I did doze off for a bit as the rain pattered outside, but I was wide awake again when Quasimodo announced the dawn. Got up, put on my silk target dressing gown, fed the fire in the bedroom fireplace and went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, rubbing my bleary eyes. Lulu followed me in there and nudged my leg with her head. I put down her 9Lives mackerel. Toasted a thick slice of Italian bread and slathered it with blackberry jam. Took a tray with my coffee and toast back to bed and dove under the covers as the fire warmed up the room and a chilly rain fell over Whalebone Cove.

I wondered where Merilee was right now. I wondered if she was deeply immersed in Brett. I wondered when I’d be able to disappear back into my own work. I did think about pulling the manuscript out of my briefcase and glancing through it, but there was no point. I was no longer back in the ’70s, living my sweet season of madness. I was living right here, right now with the Talmadge brothers. My mind couldn’t stop dwelling on their cousin, Jim Conley, the not-so-cool and collected resident trooper, and on sly, cagy Colin Fielding, and on the Hardy Boys, Tony and Gas. It was on Skip Rimer, Truman Mainwaring’s infuriated lover. It was on Donna Willis, the sturdy botanist who’d clashed repeatedly with Austin, and on Joanie and Sandy at the A&P and how they’d been fond of Austin, but not Annabeth McKenna.

Let me tell you, real life can be a genuine pain in the ass when all you want to do is get lost in your own alternative reality.

When I’d finished my coffee and toast I went into the bathroom and removed the bandage on my head. The wound looked clean and was healing nicely, although my shaved scalp was getting itchy and the staples were starting to feel annoyingly there, which I took as a sign that they were getting ready to come out. I showered and washed the wound carefully, patting it dry before I applied a fresh bandage. Then I stropped Grandfather’s razor, shaved and put on my six-ply shawl-collared cashmere cardigan over a viyella shirt and jeans. It was damp in the old farmhouse that morning. I couldn’t seem to get warm.

The bedside phone rang. The unlisted number. Yet again, I raced to pick it up, hoping it was Merilee calling from Budapest to tell me how much she missed me.

Yet again, it was Carmine Tedone. ‘Morning, Hoagy. Hope I didn’t wake you.’

‘Not a chance, Lieutenant. I’ve been up for hours.’

‘So have I. My wife elbowed me awake at two o’clock to tell me I was grinding my teeth in my sleep so loud that I was keeping her awake. I ended up spending half the night pacing the living-room carpet.’

‘They do have bite guards for that sort of thing.’

‘Yeah, I’ll be sure to put that right at the top of my list of priorities. So, listen, I got hold of that date you asked me for.’

‘That was fast. Did he give you any trouble?’

‘Not a bit. He was happy to help. Are you ready?’

‘Hang on just a sec. Let me get my notes.’ I fetched my notepad from the parlor and returned to the bedroom, leafing through it. ‘OK …’

‘Now are you ready?’

‘Good to go.’

We traded dates. And immediately fell silent after that.

‘You still there, Hoagy?’ Tedone said finally.

‘Still here,’ I said, my pulse quickening

‘I thought maybe you blacked out or something.’

‘No, I’m fine. Well, I’m not fine, but I’m fine. Tell me, do you have any free time today?’

‘You kidding? Aside from working the Talmadge double homicide and having the governor and the entire hierarchy of the state police breathing down my neck, I’ve got nothing but free time. In fact, I was thinking of scarfing up a Denny’s Grand Slam breakfast and then taking in a noon showing of Jurassic Park. Want to join me?’

‘Actually, I wanted to ask you for another small favor.’

He let out a pained sigh. ‘Can I tell you how much I’m already hating this? I feel like any moment now Deputy Superintendent Mitry’s going to lower the boom on me and I’ll be back in uniform working the Sunday-morning speed trap on I-395 in Killingly.’

‘Lieutenant …?’

‘What a crap detail that was. Standing out in the freezing cold, ticketing every poor slob for the crime of going sixty-six miles an hour when they came around a blind curve after a long, steep downhill stretch of highway. I swear, there’s not a living soul who could stay under sixty-five on that particular—’

‘Lieutenant …?’

‘If they try to send me back there, I’ll turn in my shield and go private with my cousin Pete. He’s been after me for years to partner up. No bosses. No red tape. No one breathing down your—’

‘Lieutenant …?’

‘WHAT?’

‘You don’t even know what I’m about to say.’

‘Like hell I don’t. You’re about to propose some whackadoodle end-around play and try to drag me into it.’

‘You want to catch your killer, don’t you?’

‘Of course, but on the off-chance that no one’s ever told you, there’s such a thing known as proper police procedure. If I don’t follow it to the letter then the case will never hold up in court.’

‘This will hold up. Not to worry. About that small favor …?’

‘My stomach is starting to hurt again.’

‘You need to chew on a couple of Gaviscons.’

‘I need for you to go back to New York City and stay there.’

‘Lieutenant, it’s very simple. You’re either in or you’re out. Which is it?’

‘In, in. I’m in,’ he said hurriedly. ‘What do you want me to do?’

I built a big fire in the