Saturday, December 17, 2011

The Detectives Bull and Tommy work on a Sunday

Sample Sunday from Seeking Angel by A J Burton - Chapter 3.
Detective Angelo Protettore known to all his colleagues as Bull, sipped his coffee from a paper cup. He was careful not to crush it while his partner of a few weeks, Detective Thomas Delaney, careened around the precinct in their squad car.
Bull’s partner sat bolt upright in the driver’s seat, his large hands gripping the wheel like he wanted to strangle it. Tommy was having his usual daily dose of road rage. It was almost comical to watch.
Tommy hit the horn, venting his spleen at no one in particular. “Jeez! Who said New York taxi drivers are the worst in world? It’s the rest of the road-hogging morons that get my goat!” said Tommy. “You got that coffee under control, Bull? That little cup looks pretty fragile in your big mitts.”
“Well, it might help if you relaxed a little bit, you dumb Irish prick.”
“I can’t. Why are we still doing this shit?”
Bull squeezed his cup as they tail-spun round a corner. “Because this is New York, buddy. It’s broke, just like you and me. We are on missing persons detail because we are the unclean and unwanted from the precinct. But at least we’re employed.”
“Ok, I get the hint.” Tommy relaxed his death grip on the steering wheel. “Don’t go thinking I am going soft but when you’re right, you’re right. You know the Captain wants us to fail. I know I am an embarrassment to the department.” He broke into a fair imitation of the precinct head. “You’re a cynical, violent, foul-mouthed man with an attitude problem whereas your new partner is just plain violent. It’s only a matter of time before either one or both of you screw ups gets himself so deep in the shit even the blessed saint of assholes won’t be able to help.” said Tommy.
“Yeah, the Captain’s a peach, isn’t he? Still, he’s got a point; we just gotta stick together and back each other up. I - Look out!” shouted Bull.
“Son of a bitch!” yelled Tommy.
Rubber squealed and smoked as the heavy squad car pulled to a shuddering stop, slamming both men into their seatbelts and sluicing Bull’s coffee onto his crotch.
“Jeez, Tommy!” Bull found himself talking to thin air. His partner had already leapt from the vehicle. Tommy yanked open the driver’s door of a stationary Volvo in front of them. What followed was a tirade of some of the worst language Bull had ever heard. Tommy, in the process of checking the man’s driver’s license, managed to insult his heritage, ancestry, driving skills and his chances of surviving the week. Then as quickly as his temper flared, Tommy seemed to lose interest, as all the driver’s documents seemed to be in order.
“Okay, have a nice day, you moron.” Tommy strode back to the vehicle before mashing himself into the driver’s seat slamming the door so hard the whole car shuddered.
“You feel better now?” Bull said. “You owe me another coffee. Plus, we gotta go back to my place. I need to change my pants and check for third degree burns on me balls.”
Tommy sighed. “Sorry. Okay, we’ll get some clean threads for you, and then I’ll spot us a meal. Screw what’s her name; she’s only been missing a couple of weeks. And she’s probably shacked up with some dope smoking prick anyway.” said Tommy, putting the car into drive.
“Right, only I don’t think the Captain would be particularly pleased with that attitude. Shit, forget my pants they’ll dry on the way over. Turn the heater on.” said Bull.
Tommy did an illegal U-turn and sped away. “I hate it when you’re right, I wasn’t hungry anyway. Still, two detectives with our experience doing this crap is just an insult. Bad enough we are working on a fucking Sunday.” said Tommy.

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