Murder Inside the Beltway - Margaret Truman [38]
It was obvious to Jackson that the owner wanted to stay and talk, but was torn, and Matt doubted whether it had to do with other business to take care of. He said, “Do other officers come in here and expect free meals?”
The owner looked down at Jackson, his expression a cross between compassion, and surprise at the young detective’s naiveté. “You’re a nice young man,” he said. “You haven’t been a policeman long enough to understand how it is done.”
The owner turned to walk away. Jackson sprung to his feet and grabbed the man’s arm. “Wait,” he said. “I want to talk to you about this.”
The owner shook his head. “Please,” he said, “I don’t want trouble.”
“And I won’t cause you any. Maybe you can help me understand. Maybe you can help me—grow up.”
His comment brought a smile to the owner’s face. He looked down at the floor, as though the answer to whether he should rejoin Jackson at the table could be found there. He looked up. His smile widened, and he took his chair again.
“Look,” Jackson said, “I assure you that nothing you say to me will leave this table. I promise you that. Understood?”
The owner nodded.
“By the way,” Jackson said, “I’m Matthew Jackson. I don’t remember your name.”
“Kahil.”
“All right, Kahil, you said that cops come in here and expect free meals. Do they expect more than that?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Money. Do they ask you for money?”
Kahil thought for what seemed a very long time before saying, “It’s the cost of doing business.”
“Your cost?”
“It’s expected.”
“It’s expected of the mafia,” Jackson retorted angrily. “Not the police.”
Kahil shrugged.
“If someone is shaking you down, Kahil, you should file a complaint with the police. We have an Internal Affairs division that—”
“Detective,” Kahil said, placing his hand on Jackson’s arm, “you are obviously an honorable man. I admire that. But honorable men don’t always see the reality of things.”
“The reality I see is that you’re the victim of a crime.”
“I appreciate your concern, Detective, but I have already said too much. Enjoy your dinner.”
Jackson had arrived hungry, but he no longer was. The conversation had been unsettling. It was obvious that Kahil had wanted to talk about whatever squeeze he found himself in, but was unwilling to go beyond using Jackson as a sounding board. That there were members of the MPD that wielded their positions of authority to shake down honest businessmen wasn’t news to Matt. He’d heard the locker-room jokes about it among senior officers, and was offended at their easy, open acceptance of the practice. He sometimes wondered whether he would eventually become that jaded as he progressed in his career. He was sure he wouldn’t—he would quit first—but could you ever be certain of how you would behave as you grew older, as you got closer to retirement and were concerned that there wouldn’t be enough money to support you in your dotage? He’d witnessed changes in his mother and father—nothing dramatic, but representing a shifting set of worries that caused them to adjust some of their views of the world.
He forced himself to eat a portion of his dinner, but what Kahil had said gnawed at his stomach.
“You didn’t like it?” the waitress asked, eyeing his half-consumed meal.
“No, no, it was fine. I just wasn’t as hungry as I thought I was.”
“Take it home?”
“Sure. That would be good. And I will have coffee.”
While waiting for his coffee, he pulled papers from his briefcase and perused them, looking for nothing in particular but occupying himself while alone. The photos they’d uploaded of Craig Thompson captured his attention and he leaned closer to better examine the face in them. He realized he was doing what he abhorred in people, making snap judgments based upon a person’s appearance. Stereotyping! How wrong. But he couldn’t shake his reaction to Thompson in the photographs. He looked like a man not to be trusted, easily swayed, willing to say or do anything to reach a goal, like too many politicians.
He was immersed in studying the pictures when Kahil came to him with the check. “I would be happy to