Zak glided around his office/research lab/ chick magnet of a pad filing papers, trying to ignore the persistent knock on the door. He was exhausted from the wrangling with the University funding board and hoped it wasn’t one of his many bitches back for some more of his good, good lovin’. They never seemed to understand. Women to Zak were like scallops, fishy smelling treats you savour briefly and then never think about again. Except for Bonnie. There was something about that girl, but he could never let her know that. He was a loner, a free spirit as free as the sachets of sauce you get at restaurants who don’t charge for sauce, or other condiments. Besides, nothing could get in the way of his work.
“Mr Mathius!” called the voice from behind the door.
“I need to talk to you my brother, open up the goddam door huh?”
A man’s voice. A young man, maybe twenty. He could tell by the tone and the timbre that the owner of the voice had grown up hard, like he had.
Zak strode across the room, like a tiger prowling across a room to open a door, but elegantly, like a tiger. He opened the door, more or less just like a guy opening a door.
“What do you want man? I’m busy.” He said, grimacing at the young man who stood before him.
“I appreciate that Mr Mathius, I surely do, but I got to talk to you. I got a case!”
“What do you mean “a case”? Said Zak, a quizzical tone in his voice.
“I mean a case man! A case for you to investigate!” said the lad.
“You must have me confused with someone else young brother, I’m a scientist, not a policeman…”
“Aw man I know who you are, you the dude they call they The Infiltrator. You the man who took down The Calcium Crew, the dudes behind the biggest fresh milk heist this side of the civil war! You the man who blew the granny farm over seventies sex ring wide open! I know you man!”
Zak was impressed. This kid had done his research. He’d passed test number one. He had found The Infiltrator.
“Ok, say I am this Infiltrator cat you’re jawing about. What makes you think I’ll just be taking your crummy little case anyway? He don’t sound like the kind of guy who takes on bag snatchings or silly shit like that.”
“Aw naw man, the shit I’m bringing you is fucked up. I wouldn’t bring you no penny ante case Mr Mathius. It’s about a friend of mine, well, not a friend really, a guy in my building. He’s kind of timid y’know, I guess I look out for him…”
Zak took another look at this kid. He was young, sure enough, and pug ugly with a squint like the victim of a gypsy curse but Zak could hear bravery, even compassion in his voice.
What’s your name kid?” asked Zak.
“Jesse sir, my name is Jesse.” The young man replied.
“Ok,” said Zak finally relenting, “Tell me about your friend.”
“Well sir, the guy has problems. I may be crazy, but I think someone is out to drive him plumb outta his mind!
“Go on…” said Zak, setting himself behind his desk, relaxed like a panther sitting behind a desk, chilling out after a hard day of being a panther.
“Well, all I’ll say is this,” the youth continued, standing in front of Zak unlike any particular jungle animal. “He came home last night and fainted right at his front door.”
“Fainted? Why would he do that?” said Zak.
“Cats man, cats is what done it. He had twenny some cats nailed to his door, spelling out the words “I love you”. Now I seen some crazy shit, in fact one time, me and my buddies we got this whore all high and shit? Oh, eh, anyway that’s another story. But you gotta say that is some fucked up shit man!” You gotta take the case!”
“Case? You ain’t got a case son. A practical joke, a cruel one mind you, but it ain’t a case. Now scram son, you’re wasting my time.” Said Zak.
Scuttled by Zak’s indifference Jesse’s bowed his head. His shoulders sank and he turned to walk away.
Suddenly the door opened and a burley man entered, striding into the room with a familiarity and contempt that could only mean one thing. He was fuzz, Johnny Law, the man, a copper, bent on one thing and one thing only, sending down perps to eat bread and water in the stony lonesome.
Zak froze.
“That’s not like you Mathius. Sounds to me exactly like the kind of damn fool case you’d be all over like a rash.” Said Orlando Villas, Police lieutenant and sworn foe of the man who called himself the Infiltrator. Who was Zak.
“Hey, you can’t talk to him that way!” said Jesse.
“Oh I can’t huh?” said Villas. “Who are you? Some ex junkie punk with one foot in the gutter one foot in the grave, spending his pocket full of dreams down easy street chasing a rainbow? I know kids like you. Knew a kid like you in ‘Nam. He was smart, cocky, just like you. Then Charlie got a hold of him. He ain’t so smart now. You look up to this guy; you think he can help you?”
“Yeah, I reckon. Who are you anyway?” said Jesse.
“Who am I? I’ll tell you who I am, I’m the guy you spit on when he’s walking down the street, the guy you cross the street to avoid, the guy you won’t drink with. Until something goes wrong. Until someone hurts you. Then you call me you ask me “Fix this for me Mr Lawman” “Make it all better.” “Chase the bad man away”. And you expect me to clean up your filth, all of your goddam dirty filth. So that’s who I am joyboy. I’m the law, that’s who the fuck I am. Any more questions?”
“Whiskey?” said Zak, over by the bar, pouring himself a drink like a hunky ocelot with a thirst on him.
“And by the way, kid, I’ll take the case.”
