I never thought living on the float house would be permanent, but after the fight I"d had with Samir, it seemed like a good idea. Confronting him with Doc"s death didn"t seem like a good idea in hindsight. Of course, he"d got defensive. Of course, he"d denied it. I shouldn"t have confronted him at the Powolskis" home, in retrospect.
“You and those flatfoot cops tried to pin this on me once before!” he"d shouted. He banged his fist on the table. “Took me right off the ferry and I hurt my leg again.”
“I"m tired of hearing about your dang leg!” I shouted back. Mrs. P peered up the stairwell at us. She"d likely report this outburst to our social worker.
Samir"s cane leaned against the wall. The tip of it was stained black. He pointed to it. Veins stood out on his forehead. His face turned a
