River City
“He believed, twenty years on, that rather than invent varicose veins, the man should have displayed X-rays of his war wounds. He’d have paid the charlatan’s price back then, signed a blank cheque. Today he’d forfeit his pension to any quack offering a night’s relief.Due to the pain, the end of his career was approaching prematurely.Along the floor at the back of his desk, stacks of old reports formed a staunch barrier. No one could peer below the modesty skirt where he’d positioned worn-out seat cushions—flattened by time and the rotund posteriors of cops—on crates at various heights. Gingerly, he transferred his right foot from one level to another to ease his general discomfort, later bringing it back to the rung of a chair while elevating his left foot to enjoy, for minutes at a time, the pleasure of a fresh setting.Opposite him, Detective Fleury from Policy knew what the boss was doing, but never let on as the captain scrunched down to raise a foot higher or stretch it forward.
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