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his head, and was watching the moving cards with frowning concentration. He made his pick. It was wrong—of course—and Joe took his money. That’s when I saw the tattoos across his knuckles— FAST and FSTR .
    Before another sucker could step up Bill pushed through the crowd. “Clear out, folks, you’re blocking the sidewalk.”
    The crowd moved away with alacrity. Joe had the cards and money in his pocket and the table folded before I had taken two steps. Bill extended his nightstick. That plus a single word, “DON’T,” rooted Joe where he stood.
    “Aww, shit, Tinkerbill, I’m just an honest businessman, making an honest buck.”
    “No, Twitch, you’re a crook and hustler. I don’t want to hear you’ve moved over one block and set up again.”
    “This is like fucking harassment!” His body swayed and jerked spasmodically. “I’m get a lawyer, take way to the Supreme Court!” He was talking so fast that he was dropping words, and a tiny rivulet of drool had begun to run from the corner of his mouth.
    “No, Twitch, this isn’t harassment. This is harassment.” Bill pointed his nightstick at Joe Twitch and whistled.
    The pink glow, stars, and sparks appeared all around Joe’s skinny body. For an instant I thought the guy was going to cry, and pity briefly twisted my gut. Now that I was close I could see dark circles under Joe’s eyes, and he looked like he’d been missing too many meals. He was also young, probably no older than me.
    The moment of naked vulnerability passed, and he settled into bluster. “I’m somebody! I was on American Hero .” He was madly twitching now, popping his knuckles over and over. “You know Curveball? Babe, right? Well, her and me, we’re like this!” He crossed his fingers. “I can get her number for you.”
    For one brief, wild moment I considered it, but then decided dating an ace would probably be more excitement than I needed. “No thanks.”
    “And trying to bribe an officer can get you arrested,” Bill said.
    “Yeah, like you’re not all on the take.”
    Bill’s face tightened in anger at Twitch’s words. “Get out of here before I decide to find some reason to arrest you.”
    Twitch and his table disappeared.
    I spent the rest of the day occasionally thinking about the skinny joker and those desperate eyes. I was beginning to discover that sometimes certain people just get under your skin. Like the old lady whose apartment had been burgled, and she just kept crying because the perps had let her cat out. I had radioed K-10 and Tabby to be on the lookout. Quattore had been sympathetic, but Tabby had told me to shove it, he wasn’t the fuckin’ ASPCA. And now Joe Twitch.
    We got back to the precinct at the end of our shift, I sat down in my chair, and the stench of cat urine rose up around me like an almost visible cloud. I felt the wet go right through the seat of my pants. Puff was laughing, his eyes glittering with malice. Tabby sauntered over. “Don’t you ever give me an order again, Franny, ” he said in a low, ugly voice.
    Like Joe, I didn’t know whether to fight or cry. I settled on, “It’s Frank, and I asked you for a favor. ” It sounded lame even to me.
    ♣
    Wednesday afternoon I was typing up a report about a cat fight between two strippers at Freakers that had resulted in assault and property damage charges. Beastie and his partner Chey Moleka, a Cambodian immigrant who was known for sharp elbows and voracious ambition, came through with another naked girl. I assumed she was naked. Her feet and legs were bare, and she was wrapped in Beastie’s voluminous yellow raincoat. This was the sixth naked chick in three days. They all told the same story—they were just walking along, minding their own business, when suddenly their clothes disappeared. For my own satisfaction I had stayed late one night, and tried to establish some connection between the women when there had only been four of them. I hadn’t found a single point of