“Which, of course,” Roscommon said, “he did. And therefore I am plaguing you.”
“Oh,” Sweeney said.
“Yeah,” Roscommon said, “that’s nowhere near as goddamned funny, is it? Uh-uh. Now it’s serious. Now you’re looking around for the Preparation H. I got bad news for you – there isn’t any. You are going to catch all the firebugs and make everybody safe in their beds, so that the AG can go out and tell everybody that him and Terry Mooney’ve ended the terrible menace of people setting fires and doing other evil things.”
“Right,” Carbone said. He got up. “Well, how long we got? I mean, I realise it’d probably be nice if we had the whole thing wrapped up by lunchtime tomorrow, but it’s prolly going to take at least until maybe three-thirty or so.”
“Siddown,” Roscommon said.
“John,” Carbone said, “we got fire marshals for that kind of shit.”
“This is true,” Roscommon said. “And if you know any fire marshals… You know any fire marshals?”
“One or two,” Carbone said.
“One or two,” Roscommon said. “Now, Corporal, thinking back over what you know about the one or two fire marshals that you know, do you think maybe there might be an explanation for why we got this kind of shit?”
“Yup,” Carbone said.
“Sure,” Roscommon said. “You’re just as smart as Mooney. They can’t fool you, neither. But they sure can fool the fire marshals, and they do. They fool them all the time. The fire marshals