Read Online Murder in Greenwich Village by Lee Harris - Free Book Online

eat without me. Come on. Reading about Randolph is turning my stomach.”
    MacHovec hung up. “They’ll check for me. If they come up with a name today, I’ll leave it on your voice mail.”
    â€œThanks, Sean. Have a good weekend.” She stopped in at Annie’s and said they wouldn’t be back.
    Jane knocked on Franklin’s door. They had decided on the way over that if Manelli were home too, Defino would stay in the apartment with him and Jane would take Franklin out to a coffee shop to talk.
    â€œWho’s there?” a woman called from just inside the door.
    â€œJane Bauer,” Jane called back, holding her shield where it was not visible.
    A bolt turned and the door opened. “Yes?”
    â€œMs. Franklin?” Jane held her shield up.
    â€œOh, Christ.”
    â€œWe’d like to talk to you and Mr. Manelli.”
    â€œWhat’s he done now? He hasn’t even been in New York all week.”
    Defino was already in the apartment, striding through it to find Manelli.
    â€œWho is it?” a man called, and Defino picked up speed.
    Franklin didn’t answer. A loud obscenity emanated from somewhere in the apartment, then a flood, and Defino returned, one hand firmly on Manelli’s arm, the other holding Defino’s ID.
    â€œWhy don’t you come with me, Ms. Franklin?” Jane said.
    â€œWhere are you taking me? I can’t leave my husband.”
    â€œHusband?” Jane said.
    â€œWell—”
    â€œLet’s go downstairs and talk.”
    Franklin looked back at Manelli, who shook an index finger at her meaningfully as she turned to leave.

8
    DOWNSTAIRS, JANE STEERED her to a small restaurant that in a couple of hours would be serving dinner to Village regulars and tourists. “Just coffee,” Jane said as they entered. The maître d’ looked unhappy, but led them to a table near the kitchen.
    â€œWhat do you want from me?” Franklin said. “I just got home. I haven’t even unpacked yet. The refrigerator is empty and Sal’s hungry. He’s a guy that can’t wait when he’s hungry.” She looked as though she was afraid he might eat her if she didn’t come up with a satisfactory meal.
    â€œMs. Franklin—may I call you Judith?”
    â€œJudy. Just try to make it fast so I don’t come back to a fight.”
    â€œJudy, I want to ask you about the night Det. Micah Anthony was shot.”
    â€œThat thing? It happened ten years ago. They tried to pin that on Sal and he was acquitted. You can’t get him for that. He was just in the wrong apartment at the wrong time.”
    â€œI’m not trying to ‘get him.’ I’m trying to figure out what happened that night. The detective was shot a few blocks from here. Sal is the only one of the three men who had a connection to the Village.”
    â€œHe didn’t have a connection. He lived with his mother. He visited me sometimes but he didn’t live with me.”
    â€œBut you lived here and he had a relationship with you.”
    â€œA relationship,” she repeated, as though she wished it were more of one. “Yes, we had a relationship.”
    â€œDid he come to you that night?”
    â€œYou expect me to remember ten years later?”
    â€œThat was a big night in your life, Judy. Your boyfriend, whom you now refer to as your husband, got himself involved in the killing of a cop.”
    â€œI told you, Sal didn’t do it, they never proved he did, and they can’t try him again for it. And I don’t remember if he came over that night. I think he didn’t. I think he called me the next day and told me he was in trouble.”
    â€œWas he driving a car in those days?” Jane asked. None of the three men had had cars registered to them.
    â€œI don’t think he’s ever owned a car.”
    â€œI didn’t ask you if he owned one. I asked you if he was driving