Lie challenge

[byob-kenobi.livejournal.com]

Harding Welsh was waiting for a phone call.

Scratch that, Welsh was expecting a phone call. Waiting would indicate some level of happy anticipation for said phone call, and that was most certainly not the case. He wasn’t on good terms with the telephone as a rule, as they were neither predictable nor susceptible to intimidation. He hated that.

He glowered at the phone on his desk, just in case it worked this time. To his immense irritation, it responded with a shrill ring. He glowered once more for good measure and picked up the phone. He hoped it was just the Feds crawling up his ass again, or possibly Miss Vecchio, with an explanation for that goddamned potpourri on his desk.

“Welsh.”

“Harding! It’s Lt. Sanderson from Internal Affairs. It’s been a while, huh? How’s it going over at the old 2-7?”

“Considering that this is a police station in a major metropolitan area, I think that ‘busy’ would be an accurate description. Are you calling to invite me for tea, or is there something I can do for you?”

“Harding, my man, you never change. Anyhoo! I was hoping to ask you a few questions about that Kowalski fella.”

Welsh allowed himself a moment of amusement while he pictured Kowalski’s response to being called “fella” by an IA goon.

“He doesn’t work for me anymore. I can’t help you.”

“Actually, that’s just what I wanted to talk to you about. He’s something of a hero now, isn’t he? Helped recover a Russian sub, tracked down an international criminal...does any of this ring a bell?”

“Yeah. So?”

“So where is he, and why is he no longer an employee of the City of Chicago? The guy is good press, and we don’t like heroes to just up and quit their jobs with no notice.” Pause. Here it comes. “He just went and ran off with that Mountie, huh?”

Welsh could hear the creeping insinuation in the little toad’s voice. He hated lying to other cops, IA in particular, but this was bullshit. Kowalski was a good guy who didn’t need another tough break, and Fraser was one of the best cops he’d ever worked with. They didn’t deserve to be the subject of whispered rumors and locker-room jokes.

“Actually, if you must know, he had something of a breakdown. His ex hooked up with Vecchio, and he couldn’t handle being back here. I guess Constable Fraser got him a job up there.” Was that enough? Probably not. He lowered his voice conspiratorially “I think Fraser’s sister might have something to do with his decision to stay in the Great White North. Good looking blonde, came down to visit once.”

Sanderson laughed. “From one babe to the next, huh? Probably didn’t want the venerable Stella Kowalski to nail his ass next time they were in court together.”

Welsh leaned back in his chair. The potpourri was making his eyes sting. “Yeah, something like that. Now, are you interested in gossiping about any of my other detectives, or can I get back to running this madhouse?”

“It’s always a pleasure, Harding. I’ll talk to you later.”

Welsh hung up the phone and stared at it. Well, at least that was over. He got up and went to his door. “Miss Vecchio! Is there a reasonable explanation as to why my office smells like a lady’s boudoir?”

She sauntered up to his office and kept going, pushing past him towards the desk. “Well, it’s better than stinky cigars and bad coffee! Sheesh! You know, you never appreciate what I do around here. This place is completely lacking a woman’s touch, and for once I’d like my efforts...”

As she went on and on, he smiled to himself. Things were back to normal.

Comments

[akite.livejournal.com]

I liked it too. You got Welsh down pat. Oh, and Frannie too, you've got to love Frannie, bless her heart.