"You da hit man?  Hey cuz, I's communicat'n witchew!"

It took me a moment to realize the skinny dude was talking to me.  He and the fat dude looked like gangbangers that no self-respecting gang would allow to join.  They had been talking to each other in a language I didn't fully understand with the exception of an occasional "****" and "know what I mean?"  We were sitting in a holding cell waiting for arraignment, and I was sobering up to the fact that this was not a joking matter.

"Sorry," I said to Skinny.  "What?"

"Are you da hit man or not, ****?  Sheeet.  Never mind.  I don't want to know and I ain't got time to mess around with your ****."

They slapped skin on that one and seemed to thoroughly enjoy themselves.  It pissed me off.

"Oh, you got time, ****," I snapped.  "Time gonna be your middle name.  Skinny Time **** - that's your new name, cuz."

Fat guy laughed so hard he farted, which sent Skinny to the other side of the cell.

"Damn, P! What's the matter with you?" 

Fat guy kept laughing and I laughed too, which made Skinny smile just a bit.  Wind breaking broke the ice.

"Tell me," I said.  "What did you hear about me?  They won't say **** to me."

Skinny sat down and lounged back.  He was on the stage and this was going to be his production.

"You all over the news, cuz.  Found the money in your trunk and the blood and fingerprints on your knife, and the clothes you wore in the dumpster behind seveneleven. The Doctor hired you to kill his wife and then changed his mind, but you offed the bitch anyway. What the hell you do that fo?  Sheeet.  He really pay you ten up front?  Sheeet.  Ida been gone, cuz."

"Yep, me too," said Fat guy.  "What you do that fo?"

"What Doctor?" I asked.  "What was his name."

"Cole sumthin," said Skinny.

"Coleman," said Fat guy. Dr. Edwin Coleman. He a pedia, ah pediatrician.

"Holy ****," I said to no one.  I knew Ed Coleman.  I knew him well, I thought.  Obviously, I didn't know him well enough.