Chapter 4

I read the file on John Doe more than once and in fact it didn’t give me much to go on except for the fact he had a box seat down the first base line for Saturday’s game which meant his ass was sitting in section 21 in the afternoon before his demise. It was only a single stub so he was either somebody’s guest or he went solo to the game. He didn’t look the type to be going anywhere by himself so I was guessing he was hosted by whoever owned the box.

I settled for turning the whole deal on the ball park over to Julie my good luck charm of a secretary because I knew she would get her teeth into it and run down any leads from the clue far better than me because I just didn’t have the patience or the diplomacy for getting answers and she could charm the birds from the trees with her vibrant personality.

I headed up to the shrink’s office up in Yorktown in one of those combination professional office and resident apartments. I had already called and discovered the doctor was available for exactly thirty minutes between ten and ten-thirty and I set up an appointment. I was lucky to get the half hour alone with the doc. This one-on-one with the doc that had his card in John Doe’s wallet might just produce the info we needed to identify him and help us solve his homicide. I had found the business card tucked away behind some small denomination bills that suggested the guy wasn’t exactly rolling in dough like his clothes suggested. It was more a possibility that might just produce a name we could put on the stiff other than John Doe and it was worthwhile pursuing to the bitter end.

The place was ritzier that I had imagined but that was because it had been a long time since I had been in this part of Manhattan and I probably remembered it from the old days when it was a lot seedier than present day. The building even had a pretentious awning that stretched from the front doors all the way out to the curb. I could see how the residents loved that little perk avoiding carrying an umbrella to their dinner dates downtown. The doorman was a big burly guy bordering on obese but with that still hard firmness that signaled he was not a chump by a long shot. I did my best not to make direct eye contact with him because I feared he might think I was challenging him and the last thing I wanted today was fisticuffs in the middle of the daylight hours. Not to suggest that I couldn’t handle it because I was an undefeated middleweight in the local boxing circles but had to call it a day after catching those two slugs in my legs busting through the wrong door at the wrong time on the job. Those unlucky rounds caused me to retire in more ways than merely leaving the police force.

The doorman lost all interest in me when a real “tipping” resident stepped off the elevator in the lobby. He was all smiles now offering to carry the little pooch the older woman had in her arms.

“Thank you ever so much, Rodney, I have to take Princess down to the Vet for some more of those nasty shots. I don’t understand why the doctor can’t send someone over here to do that instead of ruining my entire day. There is a fantastic sale over at Bergdorf Goodman’s that I am missing with some degree of regret.”

The doorman agreed that it was a complete shamble and that they should be more flexible in meeting her needs. I watched from the elevator as she passed him some green with a gloved hand and the door closed before I could catch what they said to the taxi driver. The driver had a heavy beard and had one of those funny head things that made him look as foreign as hell. It confirmed to me that things were changing and you never knew who your next-door neighbor would be in the city with seven million stories.

The shrink’s receptionist was definitely not as young or as good-looking as my Julie but in all honesty, she was decidedly attractive in a polished sort of way with her face devoid of cosmetics and high heels that boosted her ass cheeks in a way that was a written invitation to any guy lucky enough to walk behind her as she showed him the way to the doctor’s lair in the rear of the apartment. She wore a name tag that said, “Monica” and never cracked a smile the entire time. I didn’t know any Monica’s but decided it was a sexy name and when you put it on your lips it almost sounded like a promise was made that required her to get down on her knees to show you proper respect.

“Doctor, this is Mister Malone, your 11:30 appointment.”

Monica brushed past me on the way out and gave me a guided tour of her nicely curved hip with a look over her shoulder that dared me to do something about it. I don’t think the doc missed a single move from the way his face turned from mute disinterest to annoyed displeasure and then back to a completely neutral visage ready to answer my questions and get me out of his hair as quickly as possible.

It was the tiny twitch in his eye that made me suspect he was schlumping his secretary during those long morning coffee breaks that she enjoyed over the top of his desk holding onto the corners as he pounded her like she was his property not to be shared with strange pricks like myself. It was a matter of territory plain and simple and I was always one to respect that unless I got an express invitation like Monica had already sent to me with her ripe young body.

“I have a few questions for you, doctor, do you recognize the individual in this mug shot?”

I passed the photo of John Doe looking sort of peaceful in a dead sort of way on top of the cold metal table down at the morgue. It was only a head shot so it didn’t show any damage down below.

Doctor Prendergast took out a pair of spectacles from inside his vest and it made me smile because he was one of those types that tried to hide his flaws from strangers and they never told the truth if they could avoid it as a matter of general principle. I had interrogated lots of people over the years and those sort of “tells” gave me lots of data about my sources that they never suspected they were giving away free of charge.