Dragons Wild

On the surface, he seemed not unlike the standard issue biker. Medium-length dark hair that looked like it could use washing, a thick mustache perched in the middle of a heavy-jowled face with a couple days’ beard growth adorning it, black T-shirt with the arms cut off, blue jeans with a chain running from the belt to somewhere in his back pocket, and scuffed black boots. Still, there was something…

Griffen suddenly realized that the man was not interacting with anyone. Usually, when one of the bikers came in, he would nod to the bartender and greet any other bikers in the place, even if just with a wave.

This man was just walking along, glancing neither right nor left, with his eyes fixed on something on the back wall. Without looking back, Griffen knew there was nothing on the wall the man was staring at. It was simply that unfocused gaze of someone who was totally out of it…or who was watching everything without looking directly at any specific point.

Griffen glanced over at Padre. The bartender was standing blank faced, showing no reaction to the man, not even a glance.

Then he noticed that the group of three bikers at the front of the bar were putting money on the counter and gathering up their beers with a quiet, forced casualness.

At this point, the pieces began to add up, and Griffen was not even a little surprised when the man slid into the booth with him, still not looking at anything.

“Is there something I can help you with, officer?” Griffen said, pushing his plate to one side.

The eyes finally focused and the man gave him a long stare. Griffen stared back. At last, the man gave a small nod as if something had been confirmed to him.

“Detective Harrison,” he said. “Vice.”

Griffen had not had that much experience dealing with the police. If anything, he avoided them like the plague. While he generally respected them for doing a job he wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole, it always made him a bit uneasy to be around anyone who held automatic authority over him.

Perhaps if he hadn’t just been watching a movie involving Allied POWs outwitting their German captors, he would have reacted differently. As it was, he felt an overwhelming impulse to give this man a hard time.

“I repeat: Is there something I can help you with?”

“You’re Griffen McCandles,” the detective said, ignoring the question. “Word is that you’re taking over for Mose.”

“Mose who?” Griffen said, deadpan.

Harrison stared at him for a moment, then heaved a big sigh.

“Look, kid,” he said. “I ain’t wired or trying to trick you. Don’t worry, and don’t try to be cute. Just to keep things straight, let me fill in a few pieces for you.”

He leaned back in his seat.

“Mose’s games…the operation you’re slated to take over…it’s protected. Not a grift or payoff, at least not much. I figure some palms are greased somewhere, but mostly he’s protected ’cause a lot of the powers that be who run this city also sit in on his games. The word is that we’re supposed to leave them be, just in case some politicos get caught in a raid. We couldn’t spring them without letting everyone else go and that shit would be too embarrassing to tolerate. For them, and for me…us. What I’m tryin’ to say is, I’m not tryin’ to trip you up or trick you into self-incrimination.”

“Okay,” Griffen said. “But I still don’t know what you’re talking to me for.”

Harrison’s eyes closed slowly, and when they opened again they were flat and expressionless.

“I just thought it would be nice if we met face-to-face,” he said. “Clear the air, so to speak. Also, if you struck me as solid, I thought I’d ask a favor of you.”

Griffen shrugged.

“I suppose…if it’s within reason.”

The detective leaned forward and gave a humorless grin.

“You’re new in town, Griffen. Still getting used to the way we do things down here. All I’d ask is that you don’t make it too hard for us to turn a blind eye to your doings.”

“Like how, specifically?”

“Oh, nothing much. Don’t be too loud and open with illegal games that should be secret. Keep a lid on things much as anyone can around here. And if you should happen to end up with a body at one of your games, could you drag it outside or maybe even break up the game before you call the cops? That way we don’t have to ignore what’s going on around it. It’s a little thing, but we’d appreciate it.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Griffen said.

“Good. Glad we understand each other.”

The detective started to slide out of the booth.

“Is there any chance you could do me a favor in return?”

The policeman froze, then slowly turned his head to stare.

“Youwantme to do you a favor?” he said slowly.

“Nothing big.” Griffen shrugged. “Obviously you can say ‘no’ if you don’t want to do it.”

The detective sank back into his seat and twitched his fingers in a “give it to me” gesture.

“Like you said, Detective, I’m just a kid. I’m still learning how things work.” Griffen hesitated a second. “One of the things I’ve heard, though, is that the police don’t like the Feds messing in local affairs. Is that right?”