“In Hollywood, in an apartment right near Gower Gultch.”

“You’re a peach, Myra.” Decker winked at her, retracted the curtain, and left, noticing her roommate was still fast asleep as he closed the door behind him.

19

Refreshed from a weekend of relaxation, Marge was humming when she entered the squad room. She dropped her purse on her desk and asked Hollander what was shaking. He answered that she’d just missed all the action. Marge looked at him dubiously.

From his desk, Paul MacPherson eyed Marge, thinking, What a hunk of woman. He debated asking her out to the Shakespeare play again, but squelched the notion. Rejection wasn’t palatable first thing Monday morning. “Actually, you did miss some excitement. Not a whole lot, but enough to make my blood pressure rise a notch.”

“What happened?” Marge asked.

“A deuce was on the loose,” Hollander said. “Somehow he escaped from downstairs booking, came up to the lobby, and started raising a ruckus.”

“Slithery little guy,” MacPherson said. “Turns out he was born without clavicles. Jailer claims he squeezed between the bars.”

“Still say that’s impossible,” Hollander said.

“Took three of us to catch one of him,” MacPherson said.

“Doesn’t say much for our security,” Marge said. “Or the physical condition of our officers.”

Hollander took the comment personally. He patted his belly and looked at Marge. “You ever see me when I was two hundred and rock-hard?”

“Since I’ve known you, Mike, you’ve always looked like you do now.”

“Pity,” Hollander said. He pushed his body out of his chair and grunted as he struggled to put on his coat. “I’m off to the nuthouse, Marge. Hear all the pleas of the bad little kiddies. ‘Please don’t send me to Judge Reilly!’”

“Who’s Judge Reilly?” MacPherson asked.

“Juvey judge,” Hollander said. “Real hard-ass, God bless him. You can get these kids to admit anything as long as you have Reilly hanging over their heads.” He laughed fiendishly. “You field any new calls, Marge.”

“Fine,” she said.

After Hollander left, MacPherson said, “It’s all a lie, you know.”

“What?”

“Mike was never two hundred and rock-hard. But why ruin his nostalgic recollections with the truth?”

“Why ruin?” she repeated absently. She pulled out a current file, but her mind remained elsewhere.

A deuce on the loose.