9.

A few hours later, Bud closed the door on his sleeping family; they were al in the master bedroom, Rosie asleep in her cradle, Jennie curled up with Joey in their bed. The little boy was frightened, had clung onto his father at first and then reached for his mother, burying his head against her breast, refusing even to look at the policewoman who was sent to assist in the family home or the several armed men who were within and without.

In the lounge, Bud encountered Officer Kowalski flicking through a magazine. She jumped up at his entrance.

"Sir!"

"You here all night?" She nodded.

"Make yourself at home...coffee, food anything. Just stay awake. Don't let your fucking guard down- you got that?" He snapped out, angry and brusque.

"You not staying, Lieutenant?" Shirley Kowalski asked, surprised that he seemed to be contemplating going out in the circumstances and at that time of night. "You going out again now, Sir?"

"What if I am? You my keeper now as well?" He asked belligerently but immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry - it ain't your fault. I got some business to attend, is all."

He strode out to the hallway, strapping on his holster and donning a jacket. It was a little off midnight and he was on a mission to solve this problem in his own way.

"Bud" Jennie's voice from the stairs halted him in his tracks. He spun round and grimaced when he saw her there, round and pale, her hair messy from sleep. "Where are you going?"

He hunched his shoulders, did not make eye contact, acted truculent. Jennie ignored his posturing.

"Come to bed."

"I got something I have to do."

"You have to take care of your family, Bud, nothing else. I mean it, Bud...I've had enough tonight. You are not going to leave me and do something stupid. Come to bed. NOW!"

She raised her voice only slightly but he could hear the determination ring through. He couldn't fool her nor hide; she was the one who stood to lose the most if he fucked up and he knew she would lose faith in him if he walked away now. He had to stay. Cicitavecchia won; his fucking father won again.

With a shrug, he unbuckled his holster, stowed it and followed her up the stairs. Undressing quietly he used the bathroom and slipped in beside her, his hands running under her pyjamas to grip her soft, warm body to him. He heard Joey sigh and roll over in his sleep as they began to make a gentle love, his fingers massaging her breasts and between her legs as she rocked against him

He leaned her forward and hooked her leg back over his thigh; he found his entry and thrust tenderly, easing himself into her until he was deep inside and they just lay joined, moving smoothly, like waves lapping on a calm ocean. Their choked off moans, her face hidden in the pillow as he buried his in her hair were the only sound they made, quieter than the snuffling of their daughter as she slept, more silent than the heavy breathing of their son lying next to them. Nor did the two young officers posted outside hear any untoward sound on the night breeze. Only Officer Kowalski, flicking through a magazine downstairs, raised her eyes slightly at the rhythmic creaking from the room above and smiled to herself. Hopefully the lieutenant might be in a better frame of mind in the morning.

Bud rolled away and lay on his back, his eyes closed as lethargy flooded through him. It had been a long day; he had taken more than he could stand and now his release had left him weak and fragile. Jennie settled Joey back- he was wakeful again- and then she nestled on his chest; his arm automatically wrapped around her.

"I feel helpless. I can't even protect you and the kids. The fucking bastard has taken even that away..."

"But, we are protected, more so with you here. Just don't do anything crazy. They'll find out if you do and then our life is ruined. Promise me you won't"

"What d'ya mean? What did you think I was gonna do?" Bud pulled away and looked at her.

"You were going to kill the man responsible. And it wouldn't be the first time either, would it?" Jennie raised herself on one arm and looked at him, her hand sweeping down to caress the cruel scar.

"How can you know what is in my mind?" he whispered.

Jennie smiled and turned to their son. "Look at his face. Awake or asleep you know what he is thinking. The other day we were in the city shopping and I stopped to give some change to a man collecting for charity. He was a veteran, a guy about your age in a wheelchair. I saw Joey's face - it was written all over it- but he spoke before I could drag him away. He said, 'Mister...do you know you have no legs?'"

Bud groaned. "Say what? Jesus...what did the guy say? He smiled and looked over at his son.

"He was great about it. Told Joey about the war. The Joey wanted to know if you'd been a soldier. I said you were a cop instead."

Bud chuckled softly. "The kid's got a mouth on him like a tunnel. Where's he get it from?"

"That's Joey. That's you. He gets it from you - don't you see that? You think something - you say it. You feel something...it flashes clear as day across your face. I've never known a man with such an inability to hide behind a mask. Except for one. Maybe that's what drew me to you. I need a man who lets you know he has passion and he cares. Even if he is sometimes his own worse enemy. Bud...never get into playing poker seriously. You'll lose your shirt."

They both grinned and he shrugged. "Yeah...I talked much more when I was a kid. Just like Joey. Until the old man beat it out of me. You soon learn to keep your mouth shut then. After...she died...never had the urge to talk much. Didn't meet many people whom I wanted to talk to anyways."

She leaned forward and kissed his lips. "They can never beat it out of you if you have people you love beside you - and people who love you. Believe me...what do they ever win? People like your father and the man who's been threatening us? Nothing. They win nothing. They have nothing in their pitiful little lives. Bud...here...thisis our victory. Can't you see that?"

He breathed deeply and thought about her words, holding her close to him, his lucky charm against the world. The only person who could stop him when he came close to that place where he lost reason and sense.

"I wish the fuck was dead. I still want to see him bleed," he said through gritted teeth.

"So do I," said Jennie. "And in a perfect world he would be."

Freddi Sciatto sat in the bar and watched the hours tick by, steadily consuming grappa. He wasn't a heavy drinker but tonight it seemed to be having no effect on him. Since leaving White's house, his mind had sunk into a pit of blackness, memories of his childhood watching over him. His Mamma always in the kitchen cooking up a storm or endlessly boiling clothes and ironing to earn some money on the side. His poppa with his little stall on the market selling Italian meats, salamis and pickled goods. Simple people. Good people. Blown away by evil. Just because his father had witnessed a crime and refused to keep silent.

Sciatto saw pretty Jennie White clutching her kids, wide-eyed and troubled, unable to understand this nightmare that had threatened her home. A decent woman who loved her husband and made a good home for him and his children. Bud himself, tormented by his failure to protect one woman and then faced with harm to his own perfect little world. Jesus, the guy had nearly burst a blood vessel, would have killed some rookie cop who had frightened his wife with too much information! The memory of how her hand alone on his arm had brought him to his senses, when five or six men were still struggling to hold him off. It made a lump come to Sciatto's throat. It was the kind of love that he wanted some day, the kind of love his parents had had.

White reckoned that sometimes the law needed a push; there were different ways of meting out justice and sometimes the rulebook was the least effective - it even tied their hands and set the bad guys free. What would White think was the right course of action? Sciatto knew without a doubt what his superior would do, if he could. Get a gun off the street and dole out some summary justice of his own.. White was crazy enough to do it yet.

Throwing back the last of his drink, Sciatto slipped from the bar, turned his collar up and pulled the fedora more firmly over his face. He had grown up on these streets and he knew how things were done. It was so easy. A whispered request in the right ear, an envelope produced and an hour later, a gun was thrown through the window of his car as he sat parked by the side of a lonely street. It was already taped.

Starting the engine, Sciatto drove to the opulent apartment block and waited. It was quiet inside and along the well- tended ground of the high class residential area. An hour or two passed and then a silver Cadillac pulled into the gateway and a familiar figure opened the driver door to unlock the gate.

Sciatto moved quick, adrenalin coursing through him, forcing his reflexes to act where his pumping heart might have dragged him back. He addressed Civitavecchia in guttural Italian; the man instinctively turned. Sciatto put tow bullets in his brain and disappeared into the night.

Driving through city streets, trying to put as much distance between himself and the deed, Sciatto fought the urge to put his foot down; all he needed now was highway cops to pull him over now. He stopped by the side of a building site, threw the gun into one of the large metal skips and then breathed deeply to calm the shaking of his hands, drove back to the police headquarters an joined a couple of guys on the graveyard shift.

What did he feel inside? Remorse? Guilt? Fear? None of those things. He felt absolved from a weight that he had carried for far too long. Someone had finally paid for what they had done. It was the best piece of police work he had ever done. If it came to it, he would carry the can and be proud of it.

The call came in at two-fifteen. Body of leading lawyer and politician found slumped by his car near his mistress's home. Sciatto smiled inwardly at the accuracy of his assumption that the usually well- guarded Marco would not want anyone to k now of his penchant for blonde uptown whores. Karen Andersson was a well- kept secret that his surveillance had uncovered. Nights off duty on the case had paid off.

He approached the police cordon and strode over to where Ed Exley was fielding questions from a group of pressmen at the crime scene. Exley finished up and indicated he wanted to speak to Sciatto.

"Where the fuck is White?"

"Tucked up in bed, sir. He stayed with his wife and family when we got there."

"You sure he didn't leave?"

"Why do you ask, sir?"

Exley looked to the coroner's van that was pulling out with the dead body inside. "Just thought I recognized the MO. Check his whereabouts, Sciatto. Do it quietly. No one else to know this. You got that?"

"Yes sir! I'm on to it. First thing in the morning."

"Now. I'll be in my office." Exley stormed off and dragged at his car door, slamming it after him. His face was rigid with tension as e made his way back to the station.

Bud was at the breakfast table drinking coffee when the call came in. Officer Kowalski popped her head round the door and called him to the phone. He heard the news impassively but momentarily saw stars> Civitavecchia? Gunned down by an unknown assailant? Last night?

"Jennie....I gotta go...something real important. Stay here until I call. You got that?" He kissed her and then the kids and grabbed his jacket, his gun still in its holster in his hand as he ran off to the car and sped off.

Exley was waiting in his office and immediately asked for his gun and badge. Bud handed them over with a sullen jerk of his chin, remembering another time when he had lost his badge. "I didn't do it. I was home all night."

"You could have slipped out. I know your style, Bud."

"I wanted to do it but I didn't. I'd fucking tell you if I had done. You know that."

"So...it's a coincidence, is it? Someone else blows his brains out the same night as he tries to fuck with your wife and kids? Give me credit for some smarts, White."

"I won't answer for something I didn't do. But I ain't crying over his grave. If I find out who did it, I'll buy him a drink." Bud faced Exley aggressively.

Exley breathed out slowly and took off his glasses, polishing them as he thought. His eyes were aching. Another night without sleep.

Just then Lauren Shapiroentered. "Officer Kowalski's here."

"Show her in. You wait outside. And don't you dare interfere with a witness, you got that?" Exley jabbed a finger in Bud's direction as he replaced his glasses.

Bud shrugged in his non- committal way and burst through the door, letting it bang behind him. He took a drink from the water fountain as the young woman from the night before walked past. Knocked on the office door and entered.

"Officer Kowalski, you spent the night on duty at the home of one of our Homicide lieutenants?"

"Yes, sir, Lt, White, sir."

"I need you to give me an honest answer. Did Lt. White, to your knowledge, leave the house at any time during the night?"

"No sir." Shirley looked straight ahead and answered impassively. Exley wondered if she was lying to protect a fellow cop.

"This is very important. Did you see him retire for the night?"

"Yes sir. He stayed with the family, helped to put the children to bed...the little boy was upset and clung to him. He wouldn't let me assist. Then the whole family settled down."

"And White didn't reappear until morning?" Exletyrepeated the question, waiting for any sign of hesitation.

"Well...he did come down about midnight, dressed, with his jacket on his arm, said he had something to do. But...Mrs White followed him and...well, she insisted he come back to bed. And he did. That was it."

Exley said nothing for a moment but noticed the slight blush to the young woman's face and that she was nervously picking at her nails behind her back.

"Could he have left without you knowing?"

"I don't think so, sir."

"But you're not sure?"

"Sir, what is this about?"

"Answer the question." Her eyes picked out the gun and the badge on the desk before her. White was in serious trouble and it seemed to be about something that had happened over night. Whatever it was she knew he was innocent. With a slight frown, she made up her mind.

"He didn't leave. I'm sure of that." She stated.

"How can you be sure? He could have climbed out of a window."

"He didn't. I'm sure." She coughed and cleared her throat. "When they went up, it went quiet after a while. I guess he'd gone to bed. Then...sir, this is embarrassing..."

"Go on...a man's career's at stake." Exley spoke quietly, willing her to give him something that would exonerate Bud's reputation.

"...I heard the bedsprings from up above. You know what I mean, sir...it was very obvious. They were...you know...making love. It went on for a while. Then they were talking. These houses have pretty thin walls and it was a warm night- the windows were open. It's a quiet neighbourhood. You could hear his voice talking...not what he said but it's low and husky...a distinctive tone. He was still there and then they must have fallen asleep. I don't believe he would have left then. She made him stay, sir."

Exley nodded and dismissed her. "Thank you. You've been a great help. White would appreciate this, too."

He watched her go and breathed a sigh of relief. Calling Bud back in, he indicated the badge and gun. "You're in the clear. I'm sorry Bud, I had to be sure."

"So what changed your mind?" Bud asked, still suspicious as he helped himself to the precious signs of his office.

Exley grinned. "Good job there's nothing wrong with your sex drive. You didn't leave the house. Bed springs. Aren't you glad you didn't oil them, hey?"

Bud glowered and then broke into a sly grin. "Jesus Christ. Some fuck or what?" He laughed and Exley joined in. The two men shook their heads. "So...what you gonna do about the dago stiff?"

"Nothing. Got what he deserved. Will make a few noises but the case is closed. Whoever did it, he gets away with it. Now, isn't that a shame?" Exley looked straight at Bud. Bud returned the stare. "Go home. Take a coupla days. Spend some family time. You earned it."

"Appreciate it, Exley. It's long over due."

Outside on the corridor, Bud bumped into Sciatto. "We need to talk. Give me five. Bar across the street." He walked on by. Sciatto looked round and followed him out.

"What's eatin' you?" Sciatto asked as he accepted the glass of Scotch and swigged it down.

"You wasted the fucking wop. Last night. Why?"

Sciatto lurched out of his seat and went to leave. Bud grabbed his arm and the two men glared. "I asked you a question. Answer the fuckin' question."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Get your hands off me." He shrugged Bud's hand away.

"You did it. I owe you. I wanted to do it but they'd have thrown the book. Feels good though, don't it? Feels like someone paid at last? You're gonna make a good detective. For a wop, that is," Bud grinned at Sciatto, The young man sat back down.

"One of these days I think you'll actually mean that shit, you motherfucking bastard," Sciatto retorted with a feigned scowl.

"Get the drinks in, paisano. Or maybe you're half kike as well?" Bud replied. They settled back and relaxed. A hidden barrier had been passed that both instinctively recognized but neither would acknowledge. An unlikely friendship was being forger. Bud White would stick by this guy for the rest of his life. It was just the way he was.

Bud sat on after Sciatto left to go back to the precinct. There was something on his mind, a tension that needed easing and then he saw exactly what he wanted slumped over in a corner of a booth, well-oiled already at this time of the late morning. Sliding from the bar stool, Bud strode over and took a seat next to John O'Shea.

"On all night?" Bud asked. O'Shea grunted and lit a cigarette. "What you planning for the rest of this fine day? No cop wives you can hit on?"

O'Shea shot him a look. "Hey...It was just a dance, Lieutenant. She's over-sensitive...a little bit green."

Bud leaned on and gripped O'Shea's balls in a vice. The younger man paled, cold sweat beading on his forehead. "It wasn't a dance. She ain't over-sensitive and she's no greenhorn. You embarrassed my wife. You made an overt sexual advance towards a woman under your protection when she didn't want it. And that woman was my wife. You any idea what I could do to you for that? I squeeze much harder, I'm gonna bust these balls of yours. You know how much I wanna do that?" Bud spat into his ear as he twisted harder and the man groaned.

"What she say to you?" O Shea gasped.

"She said nothing. Somebody else ratted on you, pal. Somebody who knew I was in a mood to break someone's head. But you know...you ain't worth shit to me. Come near my wife again and I will kill you. You got that? Piece by piece, Paddy. Hey, you know your face is green? Now ain't that patriotic, asshole?"

With a jerk, he threw O'Shea back against the banquette and relinquished his hold. The man curled up in a ball and moaned, clutching his groin and retching, vomiting all over himself.

"Guy here needs some help. Can't hold his liquor..." Bud shouted across and left the bar with a swagger. Hone Get away for a break with the kids. Fuck Jenny till she couldn't walk straight. He grinned as he opened the car door. He would tell her to pack that outfit that she wore...and the scarves. Shaking his head, he started the engine and pulled out, adjusting his legs to accommodate his hardening erection. With any luck, he'd arrive just as she was putting them down for a nap. She could put him down for one to.

 Epilogue

The sun burned down on the small beachside bungalow, Pismo Beach all quiet in the hot afternoon sunshine. Beach toys were lined up outside to dry, swimwear was festooned along the little fence, towels were hung up on a line rigged up in the small front yard. Bud pushed the white gate and entered, his arms full of groceries, eating an apple. Inside Jennie was curled up reading, little Rosie asleep in her stroller, no sign of Joey.

"Where do you want this? Where's Joey? Asleep? Thought he might want to go do some fishing off the harbour wall?"

Jennie shrugged her shoulders. "No idea. He's in his room. Probably asleep.""He done something? You sound mad."

"He did something. He cut his hair. It's a complete mess. He could have put his eye out!"

"What?"

"He took the kitchen scissors and hacked at his hair. I sent him to his room. I was so mad, I thought I would skin his backside if I touched him." Jennie answered fiercely but he could see she'd been crying. "His beautiful hair. It's like a scarecrow now!" she moaned.

Bud grimaced and knelt down by the chair. "Hey, you go and put these away. I'll have a word with him." He stood up and placed down the groceries, making his way to the small children's room off the tiny hallway. Opening the door quietly, he saw his son sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by his collection of toy cars and trying to play with them. Tears were rolling down his face and he wiped them away; his nose was running and he smeared that all over his face, too. The kid's hair was a mess, sticking out all over, just like a scarecrow, different lengths and no apparent fringe.

"What you do that for?" Bud asked softly.

Joey's head shot up and he whimpered, obviously startled, and afraid he was in big trouble now.

"I asked you why you cut off your hair." Bud sat down on the floor and ran his hand through the hacked-off locks.

"The other kids were laughing at me. They said I was a girl. They made me show them my peepee. Then they all laughed even more. They said it was too big. Like a sausage."

Bud passed his hand over his face to stifle the grin that was threatening. "There's nothing wrong with your hair or your Johnson. Look at me. Let's clean your face up." He picked up a clean diaper lying across the cot and wiped Joey's face, roughly but tenderly.

"I don't wanna look like a girl, Dad. I wanna look like you."

Bud grinned and rubbed Joey's hair. "I don't think you wanna look like me, son. Come on...let's go find a barber." He picked him up and took him out. "Me and Joey are gonna sort this hair out."

"Bud...not too short! Not a crew cut, please!"

Bud shrugged. "We'll just have to see what they can do, won't we?" He grinned and Jennie knew she was going to lose the battle on that one. Her eyes filled with tears as she saw them go. Her little boy was starting to grow up.

Bud lifted Joey up onto the barber's seat and on top of the cushion that Manny, the barber, had arranged. "What'll it be? Short like your Daddy?"Manny laughed at the sight of the scarecrow head. Joey nodded gravely.

"Buzz it. His Mom'll love it." Bud grinned. Joey sat still and serious-faced, wrapped in a large white towel as his locks fell away, shorn. His little mouth was pursed in concentration and he was frowning. He was trying to be a good boy but Bud could see he was still upset and wasn't entirely sure about his new look.

Joey's eyes flickered to the wall by the mirror and Bud recognised the thought process flitting across his mind, just as Jennie had said. There was the usual display of soft porn pictures cut out of men's magazines: show girls in skimpy costumes, tit shots and a couple of nudes- nothing too raw but a helluva lot more than Joey had ever seen before.

"Wow, Dad! Those ladies are nude. Look at those boobies! They're bigger than Mom's!"

Bud grinned and raised his eyes at Manny, who smirked. "Hey, Joey don't let your Mom know that. She won't be too happy."

"Why? Does she want big boobies?"

"Kinda hard to explain, Jo. Shut up and let the man do his job." The two men exchanged amused glances in the mirror, Joey continuing to stare open-mouthed at the shots.

Afterwards in an ice cream parlour, Bud sipped a coffee while Joey tucked into a huge ice cream sundae. "Dad?" he asked his mouth covered in cream and chocolate.

"Yeah?"

"Do you like those pictures of the ladies with no clothes on?"

Bud shrugged. "Some. Why, do you?" he grinned across at his boy.

"They were pretty. But not as pretty as Mom."

"That's right. Your Mom's the prettiest girl there is." Bud smiled and Joey nodded sagely."Dad?"

"Yeah, Jo."

"Is my peepee too big? Can they make it smaller?"

Bud sat up straight. "Now cut that out! There's nothing wrong with it. Look, Joey, these kids know nothing, you hear? You see those pictures with the big tits...I mean.... breasts. Men like looking at them. With clothes on, of course. Women like men who are big. They like looking at them, too. OK?"

Joey spooned some more ice cream in thoughtfully. "They like big peepees?" His voice chose to rise to a crescendo at that moment and several people looked over; Bud groaned at the thought of what they must think.

"Keep it down, buster. I just meant they like men who are big...doesn't matter what part of them. So...those kids are jealous 'cos you're gonna grow up big and strong like me. Ask Mom. She'll tell you straight." He was on the ropes in this conversation and was hoping he could use Jennie to bail him out of it.

Bud was rewarded by a beaming grin. "Dad, I'm gonna be just like you when I grow up. Be a cop and all. And marry Mom."

"You bet, Joey. You bet. Listen, Joey, if someone asks to see your penis...next time, you don't show them, OK? Just run home and get Mom." Bud was unsure how to address this topic with a kid so young.

"Did I do something bad?" Joey asked his eyes fixed on his father's face.

"No, you did nothing wrong, Jo. These kids, they older than you?"

"I guess. They're bigger than me. They hang out near our house. I think they stay nearby."

Bud slouched back in his seat and played with his coffee. "When we get back, you and me...let's go for a walk. Point out these kids to me. I wanna have a look at them."

"Are you gonna shout at them, Dad?"

Bud smiled. "No, Joey. But I reckon they need to see me with you. You watch...they'll leave you alone then. No one's gonna laugh at you anymore... I promise. Hey, you like your hair?"

Joey pulled a face and ran his hand over his scalp. "Feels kinda funny. But it's neat. Just like yours!" He grinned.

"Eat up... your Mom'll be worried where we are." Bud finished his coffee and called for the check.

"I love you, Dad," Joey muttered out of the blue, as he scraped the glass clean. Bud looked at the velvet smooth head, the little scalp showing white beyond the limits of his tan. His son. In a perfect world - who would have thought it?