Day CXlV

Nasty Copper

     Scarface, was one of the meanest, nastiest, freaking Irish beat cops you would ever want to meet. Methinks the story was that during the war, in hand to hand combat, a kraut slashed his face with a bayonet. It was an ugly scar running from above his left eyebrow, down across his cheek, and lips to his chin. He was always pissed, and took it out on every crimy he busted. But, thugs would always torment him from the roof tops, with

     “Hey scarface!”

     He wouldn’t even look up, knowing he wasn’t going to catch them, but he would take it out on the next poor sap he busted. I remember one time he was chasing this stupid dope, the kid was really fast. He had been busted trying to break into a parking meter. Meters were a brand new tax device, full of dimes, and junkies made them their cash cow. It was their fix bank, a great way to get their fix money. Anyway, scarface sneaked up on the dope, he never knew what happened till his ass was in the cop’s mitts.

      “Yar ass be mine suckah!”

      He screamed right into his ear, as he grabbed him by the back of his neck, like prey in the mouth of a lion. He was so tough he didn’t bother to cuff him, as they do today, behind his back. The squad car was double parked; there was a car coming in the opposite direction; as they approached, scarface opened the door to shove the kid into it, and as he did so, the kid saw his break. He swiveled, pushed Scarface off balance, into the squad car, and ran right in front of the on coming car. Scarface was pissed, but he kept his cool, he pulled himself out, and the chase was on.