Ben scowled. "Hey riddle man, back to earth. Was it a waste or what?"
"Far from it." Scott's far away glaze disappeared as his personal Eureka! set in. "I think I may have stumbled, sorry, you, stum- bled onto to something that will begin to put several pieces in place for me. And if I'm right, even a little bit right, holy shit. I mean, hoooolly shit."
"Clue me in, man. What's the skinny. You got Pulitzer eyes."
Ben tried to keep up with Scott as their pace quickened.
"I gotta make one phone call, for a confirmation. And, if it's a yes, then I got, I mean we got one fuckuva story."
"No, it's yours man, yours. Just let me keep the blood and guts. Besides, I don't even know what you're talking about, you ain't said shit. Keep it. Just keep your promise on the drinks. Ok?"
Scott arrived at Grand Central as the huge clock oppose the giant Kodak photograph struck four o'clock. He proceeded to track twenty two where the four-thirteen to Scarsdale and White Plains was waiting. He walked down to the third car and took a seat that would only hold two. He was saving it for Ty.
Tyrone Duncan hopped on the crowded train seconds before it left the station. He dashed down the aisle of the crowded car. There was only one empty seat. Next to Scott Mason. Scott's rushed call gave Ty an excuse to leave work early. It had been one of those days. Ty collapsed in a sweat on the seat next to Scott.
"Didn't your mother tell you it's not polite to keep people waiting?" Scott made fun of Tyrone.
"Didn't your mama tell you not to irritate crazy overworked black dudes who carry a gun?"
Scott took the hint. It was safest to ignore Ty's diatribe completely. "I think I got it figured out. Thought you might be interested." Scott teased Duncan.