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hell?
    “Morning,” I yelled.
    “Hello, Jon,” she said, waving.
    “What are you doing?”
    “Cleaning the gutter, too many dirty leaves is not good. Rain makes problems.”
    I understood.   The leaves were clogging the trough.
    “Be careful.   You don’t want to fall.”
    “I’ll be okay.”   She smiled.
    Damn.   Damn.   Damn.
    My mother always taught me to help others, especially if they are your sixty-one-year-old landlady.
    I grabbed the ladder and got on top of the roof.
    “Where’s David?” I said.
    “He’s gone to work,” she replied.
    “You go down,” I said pointing.  
    “No, no.   It’s okay.   I can do it.”
    “No.   I’ll clean everything but you don’t come up.”   I felt obligated to do it right then because earlier I had complained about a leaky roof.   She climbed down.
    I grabbed a plastic bag, and gathered all the nearly decomposed leaves.   Once I was satisfied the trough was cleared I came down.
    “Jon, I can do it,” she said.
    “You call David next time,” I said and left.
     
    ***
     
    I drove straight to the Central Field Command Headquarters.   Inside, I was directed to a room.  
    I gently tapped.
    The door swung open and a huge man with spiked hair stood facing me.   “You’re late,” he growled.  
    “Old lady…roof…leaves…”
    “Get in,” he said.
    The room was bare, with ten or twelve chairs, facing a large board.   At the front, a man paced impatiently.   There were six other people sitting, as if waiting for something…or someone.
    The man stopped pacing and stood with his chest and shoulders high, like a proud general before his troops.   He had blond hair, a thin golden moustache, and an upward pointy nose.
    “We can finally begin,” he said, looking in my direction.
    What a happy start.
    I took the nearest seat.
    The blond man crossed his hands on his back and began, “I’m Detective Sergeant Andrew Aldrich.   Last night I received a call from the Chief to lead a new task force.   Most of you know that our drug squad is going through a tough period and will not be fully functional until the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) completes its investigation. But that does not mean our battle with drugs and narcotics ceases.   That is why you were called in to this new task force—to stop this new group that threatens our fine city.   You’re all here because you’ve shown interest in fighting drugs…”
    I looked around.   What interest? No one had asked me.  
    “…You’ve shown interest in being part of this unit.   While others.”   He looked in my direction.   “Needed to be persuaded.”
    I was so tempted to give him the middle finger.
    Aldrich turned and nodded.   The guy with the spiked hair removed a large piece of paper from a yellow file and stuck it on the board.
    “Thank you, Detective Garnett,” said Aldrich.
    Garnett?   Ronald Garnett? This was going to be exciting.   I could see he and I being great friends.
    It was a blown-up photo of three men.   One was white; the second looked Asian and the third brown.   They were standing outside of what looked like a dance club.
    “What’s wrong with this photograph?” Aldrich asked.   “Please raise your hands and introduce yourself first.”
    A hand shot up.   “Constable Clara Terries, Community Patrol, 51 Division. The three men in question are dealing drugs,” she said.
    “Good guess, but not quite,” replied Aldrich with a smile.  
    Another hand shot up. “Constable Michael Barnes, Neighborhood Crime Unit, 31 Division.   They are recruiting.”
    “Definitely no. ”
    A third hand shot up. “Detective Carlos Herrera, Street Crime, 41 Division.   They belong to a gang.”
    “Yes, but something else.”  
    I could tell Aldrich was enjoying this.
    There were three people left and I was one of them.   I had no intention of raising my hand.
    Another hand came up.   “Detective Simon Nemdharry , Plainclothes, 21 Division.   They are