Time Frame: This story takes place in April of 1996. The Elwin case (“Heartbeat”, episode #40) is still open. Both snipers have been caught (“Sniper, parts 1 and 2, episodes 41 and 42).
 

***
When I look back, I don’t see how things could have worked out any differently. I wish they had, or I think I wish they had.

Anyway, this is what happened. The true story. No matter what anyone else thinks.

 It was early one April morning. The shift had barely begun when the phone rang. Frank answered and he and Tim were off.
The crime scene: a vacant lot on the west side of Baltimore. The victim: a young man, shot three times. Frank and Tim did their thing, examined the body, looked for shell casings, the whole murder police routine. The part that wasn’t routine? The name of the victim and where he lived.

 “Kay, come into my office, please.” Gee stood in the doorframe and spoke softly

 Kay mentally reviewed her paper work and found it caught up.

 "Please, sit down. I’m afraid that I have bad news. I hate this part of my job. I don’t know how to say this. So I’ll just say it Your brother was murdered here in Baltimore last night."

 “My brother? Here in Bal’mur? Are you sure?”

 Gee handed her a wallet. “Yes, I’m afraid so. Frank brought me this.”

 Kay turned pale and sat down abruptly.

 “Do you need some water? Or anything?”

 "What was he doing here in Bal'mur? He never comes here, he hates the city. He’s too busy on the boat. He’s a waterman.”

 “I’m sure I don’t know, Kay. Frank and Tim are working on it. Now I want to you go home. Your father needs you.”

 The squad room was its usual swirling self. Cops at typewriters swearing at their clumsy fingers. Phones ringing. Some of the guys tossing the football and talking about the Ravens. Kay walked out of Gee’s office without seeing or hearing any of it. She stumbled back to her desk with tears in her eyes. I looked up from my typewriter to see this unbefbre seen sight.

 “Kay, are you crying? I know he’s tough, but Gee’s never made you cry before.”

 “My brother was murdered last night”

 “Oh my God! No! I’m so sorry, Kay. Is there anything I can do for you?”

 “No, but thanks, Munch. I gotta get Josh’s body released and take him back home.”

 “Let me help you. I can do the paperwork while you go get packed. Then I’ll take you back to the Eastern Shore.”

 “No, John.”

 “I insist. As a friend. Can I be a friend to you at this awful time?”

 “I think I can do this myself Munch. I’m a big girl.” She rooted around in her desk for some tissues.

 “Kay, Sarge, I don’t mean to be insubordinate, but I insist. Please let me help.”

 “Okay, maybe I could use some help. I don’t know what to do first: call my dad or call Schiner.”

 “Don’t worry about Schiner. I’ll handle him. That’s what friends are for.”

 I knocked on Lt. Giardello’s door. “Gee, i’d like to take some vacation.”

 “And why to you think you deserve it?”

 “I’d like to go with Kay when she takes her brother back home.”

 “What?” Gee peered over his glasses. “Am I hearing correctly? John Munch wants to do a good deed with his vacation time?”

 “Is that so hard to believe?”

 “Yes.”

 “Look. Kay isn’t the kind of woman to have girlfriends and let’s be honest, a police’s life does interfere with normal relationships -just look around here. But she shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

 “And what of your cases? Where do you stand with the Elwin case?”

 “Nowhere, right now. It seems our prime suspect, the Poe wannabe, has disappeared.
 Though a 10 year old case won’t mind a delay of a few more days.”

 “All right then, go on your mission of mercy. But keep in touch.”

***
 So everything was squared away with the boss.. Now as for my other commitment, the Waterfront Bar. My life savings in liquid form, if you wilL Given my past, who would ever have thought that I would be a capitalist? Unfortunately, the world has already seen too much of my hippie past.

 Meldnck Lewis was sitting in the coffee room, reading the paper.

 “Hey, Meidrick, could you take over my shifis at the bar for a couple of days?”

 “Goin’ somewhere, Munchkin?”

 “Yeah, I’m going with Kay to take her brother’s body back home. He was murdered here last night.”

 “Get out! Howard’s brother? Don’t her people live on the Eastern Shore? What was he doin’ here in Baltimore?”

 “He was shot over in the Western. No one knows the why as of yet.”

 “Wow. Poor Howard. It must be hard to lose your little brother. And so soon after her bein’ shot herself”

 “Well, will you take over my shifts?

 “Aren’t you bein’ the Good Samaritan?”

 “Why is this so hard to believe?”

 I went down to the Medical Examiner’s office to expedite the paper work. And make sure that they would release the body PDQ. Scheiner snarled at me as usual. But since this was Kay’s brother, he promised to put this case first. By the time Kay got done packing and whatever, all that was left for her was to sign on the dotted.

***
Baltimore is on water. It’s everywhere you look. The Inner Harbor with its sailboats and tourist attractions. But as you leave the city the water changes. That sounds strange but it’s true. On the other side of the Bay Bridge is an entirely different world. Rural Maryland waterways are pristine, Eden-like. The Western Shore is part of the entire BosWash thing. The Easter Shore is rural - fishing, the watermen, the oystermen. All that water can make one person seem pretty small. It’s hard to believe that the Nation’s capital is just mere miles away on the same planet.

 The drive was about what you would expect from Kay and me. I drove and she told me where to go. The usual bickering. But, for the most part she was quiet. And I, for once, was too.

 Eventually we pulled up in the gravel drive in front of the Kay’s house. The Howard homestead is an old place, with different wings and levels. It appeared to have been built by committee - one that didn’t agree on much. A massive lilac was beside the front door. Vines on the chimney walked up to the second floor. A shutter was loose. It looked like it could use a woman’s touch. Kay’s mother had died years before. A guy sat on a fence, waiting. He stood and waved. Kay opened her door and walked into his arms.

 “Kay, I’m so sorry. This is just the worst.”

 “I appreciate it, Chick. You being here.”

 “I’ll do anything I can to help.”

 I discreetly cleared my throat. Chick pointed to me and asked, “So, who’s the dude in black?”

 “Chick, this is John Munch, a fellow detective, we work together. John, this is Chick, an old friend. We went to school together.”

 Chick got the suitcases out of the trunk. I looked up to the house.

 “When lilacs last in the door yard bloomed.”

 “What, John?”

 “Whitman. His great ode to Lincoln.”

 “John, I don’t understand you sometimes. You know poetry and books yet you’re a murder police. It don’t figure.”

 “What can I say? I’m a Renaissance man.”

 “Oh, man, put a sock in it will ya? And grab that bag.”

***
Wes Howard sat in the kitchen, brooding over a coffee mug. “Daddy, I’m home.” Wes stood up and hugged Kay. They stood together, Kay weeping and Wes patting her hair.

 Reinctantly they moved apart.

 “Daddy, this is awfiul. How did this happen? Why was Josh in Bal’mur?

 “I just don’t know, Kay. He’d changed. He’d disappear for days, then come back without saying a word.”

 “Did you say anything to him?”

 “I tried, but he wouldn’t listen. Just ignored me. And the business is in deep trouble. The catches have been small. And there’s so many rules and regulations - you know that environmental stuff. He needed money.”

 “Why didn’t he go to the bank, then?”

 “He did. They turned him down. Kay, he was embarrassed. And proud. He wanted to think he could handle this himself.” He sighed, "Times are hard for the watermen."

***
 Dinner was a casual, quiet meal eaten in the kitchen. The kitchen had the look of long time bachelors. The enamel on the stove was badly chipped. The dishes didn’t match.

 There wasn’t much conversation, and not much eating either.

 After dinner, Mr. Howard sat in front of the TV. Chick kept him company. Kay showed me to my room and then went to hers.
 My room was on the second, possibiy third, floor. A nice big room with a very dusty sewing machine. This must have been Mrs. Howard’s, untouched since her death. I unpacked my stuff and hung my good suit in the closet. How can I tell one black suit from another, you’re asking? Trust me. I put my books on the nightstand and settled in for the night.

 The next morning, after breakfast, the funeral director called to say that Josh’s body had been received. Were there any instructions, requests, before he stared his work Kay and her father got ready to drive to the funeral home.

 “Maybe I should come with you. My brother, Bernie, is in the business. I could make sure that this guy isn’t pulling any fast ones.”

 "Thanks, but no thanks, John.. This guy won’t do anything like that. He’s a cousin.”

 While they were gone, I wandered around the house. ‘The curtains looked the worse for age. I guess that Mrs. Howard must have made them years ago. I went outside to look over the grounds. Being a city boy, I’m used to concrete. Here there is nothing but grass and the water. The sky seems somewhat closer here than back in the city.

 They returned just as the first batch of relatives show up. The women all have casseroles and there’s a baked ham. Why do gentiles always bring ham to the bereaved? Is it a rule I don’t know about? Anyway, I did kitchen duty so Kay and Wes could have time with the family. I had found the plates and knives and forks and was rooting around for serving bowls when Chick came in.

 “Need a hand? I know where most of the stuff is.”

 “Yeah, that would be a help.”

 “This is nice of you to come down with Kay and help out.”

 “Well, it’s the least I could do. This is a tough time.”

 “You were with her when she got shot, weren’t you?”

 “Yes, and don’t remind me. That was the worst day of my life. I was blocked by the wall while Kay, Stan, and Beau were in full view of that son of a bitch. I stood there and watched, unable to do anything. I have never seen so much blood in my life.”

 “So this is pay back? Doing something you can control?”

 ‘That’s rather perceptive, might I even say Freudian, for a waterman,”

 “Surprised? The back water bumpkin maybe read a book?”

***
Night on the Eastern Shore is magical. The boats are in and the catch is sold - the workday is over. The setting sun hangs above the Bay. Venus rises in the east. Night doesn’t fall, daylight just simply disappears. The water shimmers the waning sunlight and the waxing moonlight. In other words, there is nothing to do.

 “So, Chick, what do you do around here for fun? If you pardon me for saying so, the pickings are rather slim.”

 “Yeah, I guess you city folk find us’uns pretty pathetic.”

 “Maybe not that bad.”

 “Sure you do.”

 “Like I said, what do you do for fun?”

 “Well, there’s the bar, they got a pool table.”

 Kay walked down the path. “What are you two arguing aboutT’

 “We’re not arguing. i’m quizzing the locals as to the culture and art of the region.”

 “The bar’s got a juke box.”

 “That’s it? No place else is open? They put a closed sign on the island at six? Roll up the sidewalks, if there were sidewalks?”

 “You could go over to Wye Oak State Park where the state tree is. It’s 450 years old. They sell seedlings so you can plant one in your backyard.”

 “I live in an apartment building. There is no backyard.”

 “Well, Kay, why don’t we send him over to St. Michael’s. They have the Museum of costumes. Old John here can see Clark Gable’s vest from Gone with the Wind. Or, even better than that, let’s take him to the Chesapeake Maritime Museum. They got those Sea Chantey Men over there.”

 “What? One of the Village People got lost at sea?”

 “Chick, I got it! We’ll go and get some Orrell’s Maryland Beaten Biscuits! They are the lightest biscuits anywhere.”

 “Beaten?”

 “Yeah,, they beat the dough for a half-hour with a hammer. It puts air in the dough. Melt in your mouth.”

 “I’m not even going to discus that topic.”

 “Look, John, if you’re gonna bitch, you can go on back to Bal’mur, huh? After dissing our local attractions.”

***
 The day of the funeral was warm and sunny. A perfect spring day. By rights it should have been raining. I don’t know when I’ve seen a more miserable man than Wes Howard. He must have gotten up at dawn, for he was dressed and sitting in front of the TV.

 I made breakfast for Kay and myself I was getting pretty familiar with the kitchen. She came down, wearing a navy blue suit and a nice white shirt.

 "I must say, if you will pardon the timing, that you look lovely this morning. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in any other color than brown. Or in a skirt. Or heels.”

 “Well, even I have a ladylike getup. Man, I hate heels. Do you think I can wear my loafers?”

 “No, but you can change the minute you get back.”

***
 Going into a church is hard for me. I can physically walk in, no problem. It’s more of a gene memory problem. Hordes of Cossacks raining death pogrom-style on Easter. That sort of thing. But for Kay’s sake, I decided to be a mensch.
 As we were walking to the cars to go to the church, I took Kay aside.

 “Kay, I’m not going to sit in the same row as you.”

 "Pew.”

 “Excuse me?”

 “It’s called a pew, not a row.”

 “Whatever. The pew is for family. Besides, I don’t want to embarrass you.”

 ‘Please, John, I don’t need your b.s. today. Not today. And besides, you have never worried about embarrassing anyone before.”

 “I’m serious. Jews do funerals much differently. I don’t want you to worry if I’m doing the right thing at the right time. I’ll sit in back. You just take care of your dad.”

***
The church was old and weather beaten. After the service, we went to the cemetery. It’s hard to think of a cemetery looking pretty, but this one was. The grass is just so green it’s like an extension of the backyard. Josh was buried next to his mother. If Kay looked miserable, it was nothing compared to her dad. Poor man, burying his son. Not natural.

 Then we all trooped back to the house for more eating. Why is that? Why should funerals make people hungry?

 Finally the last relative left and the house was quiet. The only sound was in the kitchen -me washing dishes and putting them away. It will take forever for the ladies of the family to get their own casseroles back, but that can be an excuse to bring Wes some more. I doubt he’ll be doing much solo cooking for awhile.

 After I cleaned up the sink, I went out in the backyard. I saw Kay standing by the water’s edge. That hair. She had managed to get it looking smooth and ruly for the services. But now it was its usual unruly self. Amazing red hair. I was going to let her grieve alone, but my feet seemed to move by themselves. Before I realized it, I was standing behind her. She was sobbing her heart out. I put my arms around her waist and rested my chin on top of her head, on that hair. I kissed that hair. Then I leaned forward and kissed the salty tears from her cheek.

 She turned and buried her face in my chest. She cried until  I thought her heart would break. It’s very disconcerting to watch a sergeant cry. Kay is so tough. Being shot in the heart does that to a person.

 What happened next was so inconceivable. Kay kissed me - and I kissed back. Deeply, passionately. To quote my favorite philosopher, Marx: if I was any closer to her I’d be behind her.

 She stepped back a bit and looked at me almost like she was seeing me for the first time. “John, what have we missed here, huh? Are we meant to be together?”

 "Kiss me again and I’ll try to answer.”

 “Maybe it’s the starlight or something, but somehow this seems right.”

 “Kay. . ..“ Her hair smelled so good.

 “Maybe i’m crazy. Me and Munch?”

 “Crazy is a good word. I’m crazy about you, your hair. Titian, pre-Raphaelite red hair.”

 "What you said to me when the second sniper was out there. You didn’t want me to get shot again. No more first names. Remember? You’ve had feelings for me, huh?”

 Yes, I do. Lots of them.” I kissed her again.

 John, maybe we could...”

 Just because I have feelings for you doesn’t mean I should act on them right now.”

 John! What the?”

 Kay, I’m lousy at relationships as you yourself have pointed out to me. The Alyssa Dyer disaster stands out. The failed marriages are a red flag.”

 But all I’m saying is, maybe because we know each other, our faults, huh? That maybe this could be better, more grounded.. No unreal expectations, huh?”

 And so what if we know our faults? I’d get on your nerves and you’d be miserable with me and then what? We’d be on Gee’s shitlist. One of us would have to transfer. Maybe one of us would end up on the board.”

 Isn’t that a cheery note?”

 Kay, I adore you, I admire you, yes, even lust after you. But this is the wrong time. I just can’t take advantage of your grief. It’s a known fact that death brings out the life force in the survivors. I don’t want to do something right for the wrong reason. I can’t do that to you.”

 “Wow. Talk about bein’ let down gently. My head says you’re right. But deep down I still think that there’s something here. Something we need to explore. Later, maybe?”

***
The ride back to Balto and our everyday lives. As I drove I could feel Kay looking at me. We’d smile and hold hands, but didn’t talk much. Finally, I pulled up in front of her apartment.

 "Thanks, John, for everything. Driving me home and doing K.P. duty. Who knew you were such a whiz in the kitchen, huh? After that horde of relatives you gotta have dishpan hands.”

 “Actually, I do”, I said as I got her suitcase out of the trunk. I wiggled my fingers at her.

 “John, I’ll always remember how good you’ve been. Not making me feel like a fool.”

 “You aren’t a fool, Kay. I’ve never thought that.”

 “You know, you’re a real sweetheart, Munchkin, a gentle man. And I promise never to give away your secret.” She kissed me on the cheek and ran into her apartment.

 Then I went to the Waterfront. Meldrick was tending bar.

 “Hey, welcome back, Munchkin! How was the trip?”

 “Sad, depressing, dispiriting. It’s hard to bury someone younger than you are. Mr. Howard took it real hard.”

 “Yeah, I hear that. But tell me - about you and Howard? Hum?”

 "There is nothing to tell. I went as her escort. As a gentleman.”

 “Look, I know you. You tried to comfort the grieving sister, one thing leads to another. That’s what I’m saying.”

 “You’ve got it all wrong, Meldrick.”

 “She wouldn’t have you, would she? Turned you down.”

 “I’ll never tell, Meldrick, I’ll never tell.”