There was silence at Smecker's end of the phone line, then his sarcastic voice came through, "Well, I'm flattered you remembered my phone number, I was beginning to think you boys had forgotten me."
"Well, that'd be hard to do," Connor replied.
"Did your father make it back to Ireland safe and sound?" Smecker asked.
"I guess so, we're gonna give 'em a call later and see how things are goin'."
"Cut the small talk and get on with shit," Murphy said, sitting on the bed next to Connor. Apparently he had said it quite loudly because Smecker had heard it through the phone. He laughed.
"And what shit would your brother like to be getting on with?" the agent said, amused.
Connor sighed and rolled his eyes at his brother's abruptness. He held the phone out to Murphy.
"Hey, Smecker," Murphy said, after taking the phone.
"Why, hello, other young Boston friend. How are you this fine evening?"
"Great. Listen, we followed yer detective spy shite and we're sittin' here in a nasty hotel room wonderin' why the fuck we came." Leave it to Murph to be delicate about things, Connor thought.
Smecker laughed at Murphy's bluntness.
"I thought it was pretty obvious why I thought you should come," he said. Since they wanted Smecker's help, Murphy resisted any further rudeness, but Smecker correctly interpreted his silence. "OK, maybe not…"
"So, would ye care to explain?" Murphy was drumming his fingers against his knee in a way that Connor knew meant he was getting agitated. Connor grabbed the phone back from his brother. Smecker was in mid-sentence. "Sorry, could ye repeat that?" Connor said.
"What, are we playing hot potato with the phone?" Smecker said, amused.
"Somethin' like that."
Smecker laughed again. He was pretending to be difficult but actually was very happy to hear from them, and happier still that they had taken his hints and come to New York. "What I said was, I don't think we should go into detail right now, maybe we can meet somewhere and I'll fill you in."
"Yeah, sure. When?" Connor was glad they were finally getting somewhere. They'd been in New York for less than a day but he was anxious to get started. They'd been ignoring their calling for too long now.
"I have tomorrow afternoon off. Can you meet me somewhere?"
"Yeah."
"OK, do you know how to get to St. Patrick's Cathedral?"
"No."
"What?! I thought that'd be built into your genes or something," Smecker joked. Connor didn't respond. "OK, are you in Manhattan?"
"Yeah."
"Then you can probably find it. Just grab a tourist map or something, it's right near Rockefeller Center."
"OK."
"Alright, so meet me there at one and we'll go talk somewhere."
"OK."
"Alright. Now, it's past my bedtime so I'll see you tomorrow."
"See ya." Connor hung up the phone.
"So?" Murphy asked.
"We're gonna meet up with him tomorrow afternoon and he's gonna fill us in and all."
Murphy nodded. He took a cigarette from the pack in his pocket, lit it and offered it to Connor, who took it. He got another out for himself and moved to sit on his own bed. "Man's fuckin' irritatin'," he said, referring to Smecker.
"Aye, but we owe him a lot," Connor said, reclining.
"Yeah, well, after this venture we might fuckin' well be even. We chased off to New York on his dumb little hints. If it turns out he just wanted company or somethin' I'm fuckin' done."
"Nah, he sounded pretty serious, said he didn't wanna talk about it on the phone."
This seemed to satisfy Murphy somewhat. "Well, it better be good, then," he said. They finished their cigarettes quietly. "I wonder if there's anywhere ta get a beer around here," Murphy said.
"Probably, but ye'll be goin' on yer own. I'm fuckin' beat." Connor was stretched out on his bed and didn't intend to get up again for quite a while.
"It's only 8 o'clock!" Murphy protested.
"Yeah, and I drove us here while ye were takin' a nap."
Murphy stood up and grabbed his coat.
"Ye're goin' out then?" Connor asked, surprised. Never, in all his recollection, could he remember Murphy going to a bar without him. Perhaps leaving a bar without him on occasion, but they'd always begun their nights together.
"No," said Murphy, stuffing his feet into his boots, "I'm goin' ta ask yer loverboy at the desk where about I can buy a six pack so yer lazy ass doesn't have ta move."
"Oh. Carry on, then."
"Back in a few," Murphy said, leaving the room and Connor in relative quiet.
Connor could hear the sound of the television from the next room over. "Buy a vowel! Buy a fucking vowel!!" the room's occupant was shouting. Apparently the Wheel of Fortune contestant on TV chose not to take this guy's advice because the next thing Connor heard was, "You fucking retard!" followed by a loud crash. Connor chuckled to himself. Murphy occasionally threw an empty beer can at the TV when a contestant or character did something he didn't like but thankfully he had never resorted to knocking the TV over, which is what it sounded like the guy in the next room had done. Now the only sound Connor could hear was the traffic outside and some people making noises he'd rather not think about further down the hall.
He didn't really like this quiet. He was alone, a rare occurrence, and he found it unsettling. Murphy was alone, walking around in this strange city, in the dark. All because Connor hadn't felt like getting up. And he hadn't taken his gun. He'll be right back, he's a big boy, Connor thought, embarrassed at his worrying. Still, it was too quiet. He found the TV remote and flipped the set on. A moment later a loud pounding at his door made him jump. He rushed to the door as the pounding repeated. "Yeah?" he said cautiously.
"What was the answer?" a man on the other side of the door demanded.
"Huh?" Connor said, confused.
"To the puzzle! Was it Dick Van Dyke?"
The fucking Wheel of Fortune watcher from next door.
"Uh, yeah," Connor replied. He hadn't actually noticed but figured the guy would be satisfied.
"I fucking told him so."
Connor could hear the man's footsteps retreating followed by the door slamming as he returned to his room. Connor sighed and went back to his bed, thoroughly hoping that Smecker would be able to help them find a new place to stay when they met up tomorrow. Wheel of Fortune ended and a stupid sitcom started, and Murphy wasn't back yet. Connor got up and walked to the window but the view consisted of the side of the next building. By the time the second commercial break started, Connor was starting to get nervous again. Murphy should've been back by now. As the sitcom's end credits started to roll, Connor grabbed his gun, stuffed it in the back waistband of his jeans and headed out to look for his brother. A few steps into the hall, he nearly collided with Murphy who was coming down the hall toward the room. In Murphy's hands were a plastic shopping bag and a pizza box, the latter of which he nearly dropped when he stopped short to avoid crashing into Connor. Reaching out to steady the pizza, Connor asked, "What the fuck took ye so long?"
Murphy frowned. "It hasn't been that long."
"It's been half a Wheel of Fortune and a Charles in Charge!" Connor said, holding the door to their room open and letting Murphy pass.
Murphy laughed. "I had ta walk about five fuckin' blocks, past a dozen bars ta get the fuckin' beer, and then I was hungry so I stopped and got a pizza." He set his purchases down on the table and removed his outerwear. Connor watched him, frowning.
"What?" said Murphy, looking up from untying his boots.
"Ye just took a long time, is all. I thought maybe ye got lost or somethin'…"
"Well, if ye must know," Murphy grinned, digging into the pizza, "The girl at the pizza place was kinda cute, so I stayed and chatted for a bit."
Connor laughed. Here he was worrying about his brother and dealing with an obsessive Wheel of Fortune fan and Murphy had been out chatting up the pizza girl. Connor grabbed a slice and a beer. "Where'd ye get it, anyway?" he said, gesturing at the box.
"That place on the corner, Cavelli's."
"Hmm, not bad. But not worth a four hour drive," Connor said, grinning. Having Murphy back in the room, he felt much more relaxed, and they spent the rest of the evening joking around and watching bad television.
Connor awoke suddenly. It was the middle of the night. A strange sound had jarred him from his sleep. It sounded almost like crunching. The first thought that crossed his sleep-clogged mind was that it was a rat, chewing on something. He stealthily reached down and grabbed one of his boots off the floor next to his bed. He stayed very still for a second and heard the sound again. He threw his boot hard in the direction of the sound and almost simultaneously there was the thud of it hitting something and Murphy's loud curse. Connor flipped the bedside light on to see Murphy standing near the foot of his bed, rubbing his jaw and looking very displeased.
"What the fuck did ye do that for! I was just goin' ta take a leak!" Murphy said angrily.
Connor burst out laughing as he realized the sound he had heard was not the rat he had imagined but actually Murphy trying to walk quietly across their newspaper trail on his way to the bathroom. Connor fell back on his pillow still laughing as Murphy strode from the room, still glowering.
"Hurry up, and get back ta bed, we've got stuff ta do tomorrow!" Connor called, shutting the light back off.
