Out on the Cutting Edge

He nodded and poured himself another cup of tea. We were in a Chinese place, and they'd refilled the teapot twice already. "Oh, before I forget," he said, and reached into a pocket of his army jacket and came out with a small cardboard box. "This may not cheer you up," he said,

"but it's something. It's a present. Go on, open it."

The box contained business cards, nice ones, with raised lettering.

They had my name, Matthew Scudder, and my telephone number.

Nothing else.

"Thank you," I said. "These are nice."

"I thought to myself that you ought to have cards, for God's sake.

You've got a buddy with a printshop, you really ought to have cards."

I thanked him again, then started to laugh. He asked what was so funny.

"If I'd had them earlier," I said, "I never would have found out who killed Paula."

* * *

And that was that. The Mets went ahead and clinched their division, and they'll start the playoffs next week against the Dodgers.

The Yankees still have a mathematical chance, but it looks as though it'll be the Red Sox and Oakland in the American League.

The night the Mets clinched, I had a call from Mickey Ballou. "I was thinking about you," he said. "You ought to come round to Grogan's one of these nights. We could sit up all night telling lies and sad stories."

"That sounds good."

"And in the morning we'll catch the butchers' mass."

"One of these days," I said.

"I was thinking," he went on, "about all those people who came to say goodbye to Eddie. You go to those meetings yourself, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

After a moment he said, "One of these days I might ask you to take me along with you. Just for curiosity, don't you know. Just to see what it's like."

"Anytime at all, Mick."

"Ah, there's no hurry," he said. "It's nothing you'd want to rush into, is it? But one of these days."

"Just let me know when."

"Ah," he said. "We'll see."

* * *

I'll probably get out to Shea for a game or two during the playoffs.

They shouldn't have trouble with the Dodgers. They beat them eleven games out of twelve during the regular season, so they ought to breeze right past them.

Still, you can never tell. Anything can happen in a short series.

The End

Table of Contents

Prologue