A Tale for the Modern Attention Span
Moogoo too seemed reluctant to engage. He wandered around the room, taking a book from the bookcase or some trinket from a table and examining it as if it were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.
With each passing moment the tension in the room grew.
Finally Moogoo could delay speaking no longer; he did so with his back to Steel, in even, measured tones: “You know, Steel, people think being a cop in Crescendo Cove is an easy job.... The city’s not very big. The population we do have is generally well-educated, upper class, law-abiding. But I’ve had some challenges in my days on the force.” Moogoo could hear Steel shuffling papers on the desk. “A few years back some big city gangsters tried to take over several of the old warehouses on the waterfront. They thought Crescendo Cove would be the ideal place to stockpile stolen goods. We had to run them out of town and I got shot at in the process.... Beyond that, I’ve been forced to deal with some small-time drug dealers, drunken frat boys, and once a crazed pit bull came within a pubic hair of having my testicles for dinner.” Moogoo paused and drew a regretful breath. “But this, Steel, this is by far the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
“You’ve come to arrest me?”
“Not now. Tomorrow morning. Out of consideration for who you are—not to mention all you’ve done for me personally—I thought I’d come and ask how you want it handled.”
“We can either do it here or at your office. Someone—Commissioner Gordon most likely—has already leaked it to the press, so they’ll be around. Doing it here would give them less to see, but perhaps you don’t want it to happen in front of your family?”
“Here will be fine,” Steel said.
“Nine alright with you?”
“Make it 7:00. Make those bastard reporters get out of bed.”
Moogoo laughed. “Alright, I’ll be here at 7:00.” He started for the door, but then stopped and made eye contact with Steel for the first time since he’d entered the room.
Steel stared back at him. “What?”
“I’m not exactly sure how to say this.”
“I took the liberty of checking the files we have on you, Steel. I noticed that you’re a licensed gun owner.... In a lot of Eastern cultures, rather than having himself and his family subjected to dishonour, a man might chose to commit ... to a different course of action. And I don’t mean to suggest that you’ve done anything wrong,” Moogoo added quickly, “but even if we can’t pin the murders on you, the financial situation at your workplace is a mess and it all points to you. I don’t see how you can avoid jail.
“I can’t help but think what a shame it will be to see your good name dragged through the cesspool that is our court system, not to mention what those vipers in the media will write. And we all know how much Gordon and the Mayor hate you; they’ll be in their glory seeing you vilified.” Moogoo stopped. “I’m not sure what I’m trying to say, Steel. It’s not that I want you to … choose that option, I just want to make sure you’re aware of it. I’m sorry, I’ve said too much,” the slight man muttered as he swept toward the door with his head down.
“Moogoo wait,” said Steel. He came from behind his desk, grasped the Detective’s hand and shook it. “I want to thank you, Moogoo, thank you for being the one true friend I ever had.”
Continue Reading: Episode 95: Thoughts on a Life (That's About to End?)