say, brother. I could use some sleep myself. We got all the time in the world. Take the first bunk, the one over on the left."
I got up, walked over to the cot. Folded my jacket into a pillow, lay back, closed my eyes.
Virgil smoked another cigarette. "Lloyd," he said, "I need to take a shower before I sack out. I'll talk to you later."
I heard the rush of the shower. Heard the kid get up, light himself a smoke. Heard the hubcap rattle on the cement floor as he ground it out. I rasped a breath through my nose. As many times as the nose had been broken, it was perfect for faking a snore. Virgil took his time, giving the boy every chance to bolt. He didn't go for it. By the time Virgil came back inside, I'd heard the kid's cot creak.
Dead quiet. You could hear crickets chirp, a car pass on the highway. The summer heat didn't penetrate the basement. Faint whiff of diesel fuel on the air.
It was worth the shot. If the kid tried to get out while we were asleep, we'd know.
But if he didn't run, we'd know nothing. Sniper–blasting unsuspecting kids in a parked car wasn't the same as trying to get past Virgil in the dark.
28
I LET THE past play on the blank screen of my mind, regulating my breathing, focusing. Getting to the center. Virgil had called the right number—I knew how to do it.
A long time ago, I had this fool dream of being a private eye, working off the books. This young lawyer reached out for me through Davidson. I met them both in the parking lot near the Brooklyn Criminal Court. Davidson made the introductions. Vouched for me. He let the young lawyer speak for himself.
"I represent Roger B. Haynes." Like I should have heard of the guy.
"Eighteen–B," Davidson interrupted. Telling me the young lawyer was assigned to the case, not privately retained. Any money for me was coming out of his pocket.
"He was arrested for the rape of a little girl. The rape took place right near the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. In broad daylight. The girl ID'd him in a lineup. There's plenty of medicals to prove she'd been raped, but nothing to connect Haynes to it."
"SODDI?" I asked him. Some Other Dude Did it.
"That's what he says," Davidson growled.
"It's true," the kid said. "Haynes was in New Hampshire when it happened. At a flea market. He was buying stock for his store. A dozen people saw him. There's no way he could have driven back in time to commit the rape."
"So what d'you need me for?"
The young lawyer tilted his head at Davidson. "He says you know these people…child molesters and all. I thought…maybe you could ask around…maybe there's one of them working that area."
I shrugged.
"He's got priors," Davidson said.
"For what?" I asked the young lawyer.
"The same thing. But that was
years
ago. He did his time. He's even off parole. And he's been discharged from therapy."
"Cured, huh?"
"Yeah, cured. You think it's impossible? Would
you
want to be arrested every time the cops had a hijacking case open?"
Davidson chuckled. "He's got you, Burke."
"He's got a baby–raper."
"You mean you won't help?"
"What do I give a flying fuck if some skinner falls for something he didn't do? Probably didn't pull enough time on his first bit anyway."
Davidson lit his cigar. "It wouldn't shake me up if he went down either. But if he didn't do this one, it means the guy who did, he's got a free pass."
I thought it through. "You got any money?" I asked the young lawyer.
"I could go five hundred."
"For that, I'll talk to your guy. You walk me in there, tell them I'm your assistant or something. I'll talk to him. He's telling the truth, I'll look around for you."
"How will you know?"
"I'll know," I assured him.
He looked at Davidson. The husky man nodded.
"Okay," the kid said. "When can you go?"
"When can you pay?"
"I'll write you a check right now."
Davidson thought that was almost as funny as I did.
29
I LOOKED MORE like a lawyer than the kid did when I met him the next morning on the steps of the Brooklyn House
I got up, walked over to the cot. Folded my jacket into a pillow, lay back, closed my eyes.
Virgil smoked another cigarette. "Lloyd," he said, "I need to take a shower before I sack out. I'll talk to you later."
I heard the rush of the shower. Heard the kid get up, light himself a smoke. Heard the hubcap rattle on the cement floor as he ground it out. I rasped a breath through my nose. As many times as the nose had been broken, it was perfect for faking a snore. Virgil took his time, giving the boy every chance to bolt. He didn't go for it. By the time Virgil came back inside, I'd heard the kid's cot creak.
Dead quiet. You could hear crickets chirp, a car pass on the highway. The summer heat didn't penetrate the basement. Faint whiff of diesel fuel on the air.
It was worth the shot. If the kid tried to get out while we were asleep, we'd know.
But if he didn't run, we'd know nothing. Sniper–blasting unsuspecting kids in a parked car wasn't the same as trying to get past Virgil in the dark.
28
I LET THE past play on the blank screen of my mind, regulating my breathing, focusing. Getting to the center. Virgil had called the right number—I knew how to do it.
A long time ago, I had this fool dream of being a private eye, working off the books. This young lawyer reached out for me through Davidson. I met them both in the parking lot near the Brooklyn Criminal Court. Davidson made the introductions. Vouched for me. He let the young lawyer speak for himself.
"I represent Roger B. Haynes." Like I should have heard of the guy.
"Eighteen–B," Davidson interrupted. Telling me the young lawyer was assigned to the case, not privately retained. Any money for me was coming out of his pocket.
"He was arrested for the rape of a little girl. The rape took place right near the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. In broad daylight. The girl ID'd him in a lineup. There's plenty of medicals to prove she'd been raped, but nothing to connect Haynes to it."
"SODDI?" I asked him. Some Other Dude Did it.
"That's what he says," Davidson growled.
"It's true," the kid said. "Haynes was in New Hampshire when it happened. At a flea market. He was buying stock for his store. A dozen people saw him. There's no way he could have driven back in time to commit the rape."
"So what d'you need me for?"
The young lawyer tilted his head at Davidson. "He says you know these people…child molesters and all. I thought…maybe you could ask around…maybe there's one of them working that area."
I shrugged.
"He's got priors," Davidson said.
"For what?" I asked the young lawyer.
"The same thing. But that was
years
ago. He did his time. He's even off parole. And he's been discharged from therapy."
"Cured, huh?"
"Yeah, cured. You think it's impossible? Would
you
want to be arrested every time the cops had a hijacking case open?"
Davidson chuckled. "He's got you, Burke."
"He's got a baby–raper."
"You mean you won't help?"
"What do I give a flying fuck if some skinner falls for something he didn't do? Probably didn't pull enough time on his first bit anyway."
Davidson lit his cigar. "It wouldn't shake me up if he went down either. But if he didn't do this one, it means the guy who did, he's got a free pass."
I thought it through. "You got any money?" I asked the young lawyer.
"I could go five hundred."
"For that, I'll talk to your guy. You walk me in there, tell them I'm your assistant or something. I'll talk to him. He's telling the truth, I'll look around for you."
"How will you know?"
"I'll know," I assured him.
He looked at Davidson. The husky man nodded.
"Okay," the kid said. "When can you go?"
"When can you pay?"
"I'll write you a check right now."
Davidson thought that was almost as funny as I did.
29
I LOOKED MORE like a lawyer than the kid did when I met him the next morning on the steps of the Brooklyn House
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