(no subject)
The door of the Sorbonne Starbucks had been glued with Kiwi shoe glue, that's what the lab report showed anyway.
"What's the scoop?" Rick Hollo asked over the phone. It was a hard black plastic rotary phone Rick insisted on keeping in the office. He told everyone on the force that it was a good phone, and the phone his parents had in the house he grew up in.
"Why let go of the past?" Rick would tell his coworkers.
He leaned back in his roller chair, and put his black polished jump booted feet up on the desk. Corcoran, Korean surplus. Laced high and tight, and concealed under his blood striped Sorbonne Police Department uniform pants, the boots gave Rick Hollo considerable ethos.
"Shoe glue huh?"
"Kiwi brand?"
"Uh huh."
"Thanks Lou," Rick said. He hung up the phone. The heavy black reciever clunked on the cradle.
"That was the lab," Rick told the boys.
"Yeah?" said Graves.
"Yeah." Rick put his hands behind his head. "Says the analysis shows the substance was almost certainly not superglue, but actually Kiwi brand shoe glue."
Rick pulled up the ECHELON site on his computer. He entered Pete Limpelli's name.
"The Winged Tip Shoe," Rick said. "Hmm." He rolled his index finger on the mouse. Scrolling down, he saw satellite images of a Kiwi shoe glue truck parked outside the Winged Tip Shoe. The photo was black and white, and ariel, and grainy. The photos were from over a year ago. He saw, in a time lapse series, a slender man wearing a pork pie hat, glasses, a bowling shirt, and polyester pants move his hands outside the Winged Tip Shoe. Zooming in, Rick Hollo saw a tiny toothpick sticking out of the man's mouth.
"Pete fucking Limpelli," Rick said.
He scrolled down to another photo. This time Pete was shrugging, and it looked like he was frowning.
Another one showed him with his hands on his waist.
Another had his right foot up on a fire hydrant. He was resting an elbow on his knee.
Another showed Pete throwing a stickball to some kids.
This one showed Pete and the truck driver eating slices of pizza.
Another showed the truck driving away, and Pete walking back into the Winged Tip Shoe.
The photos played out like a story board. A comic strip. A graphic novel. A crime story board, comic strip, or graphic novel.
"Pete Limpelli," Rick said to the screen, "your ass is mine."
William Comparetto
© 2006