“You seeing anybody besides her?” she asked.
The smirk came back to his face. “Hey, she’s my special girl, but what am I supposed to do? Some hot chick throws herself at me, you know how it is. I got needs, right?”
“She seeing anybody else?” Erin asked.
“No!”
Erin saw the flash of anger, the sudden defensiveness. Webb saw it, too. He sat forward slightly, watching Rocky more closely.
“You sure about that?” Webb challenged him.
“Why would she?” he shot back. “Hey, I was giving her everything a girl needs. And I mean, everything. I know how to keep a girl satisfied!”
“Yeah,” Erin agreed. “All that money, those nice dinners, presents, maybe even a little nose candy. Plus, having a hot guy like you? I don’t know why she’d hook up with her boss. Ridgeway’s not even that good-looking.”
“No shit,” Rocky snorted. “I dunno what she sees in that asshole. I gave her everything. Everything! And what’s she do? And then, when I found out about it, you know what she told me?”
“What?” Erin made her face into a mask of concerned curiosity.
“She said, ‘He knows how to treat a girl!’” Rocky said in disbelief. “Like what I was doing didn’t mean shit to her! That bitch!”
“So you gave her the chocolates,” Erin said quietly.
“Yeah!”
“To teach her a lesson.”
“Yeah!”
“Where’d you get the poison?”
Rocky’s eyes opened suddenly wider. “Poison? What the hell do you mean, poison?”
“In the chocolates,” Webb said, entering the conversation. “You wanted to kill Amber.”
“What? No!” Rocky shook his head violently. “No, man! It’s not like that!”
“What is it, then?” Erin asked, keeping her voice soft and reassuring. Webb was playing bad cop, so she’d play good cop. They’d done it enough times that they didn’t need to discuss it.
“I saw something online, about how chicks dig the little gestures, right? And I had this box of chocolates, almost full, I thought maybe she’d like them. Maybe she’d see I really like her, y’know? And then she’d ditch that asshat Ridgeway, him and his phony white teeth. You know, I bet he uses whitening strips.”
Rocky paused for breath, and Erin could see the wheels turning in his brain. He wasn’t the brightest bulb in New York, but he’d finally put two and two together.
“Oh, shit. Poison? Poison? For real?”
“Oh, yeah,” Webb said. “As real as it gets. You’re looking at twenty to life, buddy. If you’re lucky.”
“Oh shit, man,” Rocky said, and all the swagger and smirk slipped away. Erin almost felt sorry for him when she saw the naked pain in his eyes. “You mean she’s dead? Amber’s dead? And I killed her? The candy was… oh, man. Oh, God. And I gave it to her?”
“It’s a little late to feel sorry,” Webb said remorselessly. “Where’d you get the poison?”
“I didn’t know!” Rocky said. “Jesus, I ate some of those! It might’ve been me! I loved Amber! I’d never… oh God…” His face twisted and big tears started rolling down his cheeks. He snuffled and wiped at his nose, burying his face in his hands.
“Amber’s not dead,” Erin said. He didn’t seem to hear her, so she said it again, louder. “She’s not dead, Rocky. She’s fine.”
Rocky raised his head and looked blearily at her. “You’re not screwing with me, are you?”
“No, she’s not,” Webb said. “But Ridgeway’s still dead, and you’re still in a lot of trouble.”
“Hey, man, I didn’t know!” Rocky said. “Hell, the candy wasn’t even mine!”
“Where’d you get it?” Webb demanded.
“Paulie Bianchi! He gave it to me!” Rocky froze. “I mean, it was just, like, a spur of the moment thing. Like, he just had them lying around.”
“Who’s Paulie Bianchi?”
“Nobody! A friend!”
Webb smiled grimly. “You sure he’s your friend, Rocky? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks a whole lot like he screwed you.”
“No way,” Rocky said. “Paulie and me, we’re tight. He’s stand-up.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Webb said. He got out of his chair. “We’re going to take a break. Take it easy, kid.”
“So, can I go now?”
The Lieutenant shook his head. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Chapter 3
“Paulie Bianchi,” Vic read off his computer screen. “The Narcs love this guy. He’s been busted four times for possession, twice more for intent to distribute. Felony volume.”
“What’s the substance?” Webb asked.
“Cocaine the first two,” Vic replied. “The others were for heroin.”
“How much time did he get?” Erin asked.
“Probation,” Vic said.
“The hell,” she said. “We nail this guy as a drug dealer, twice, and he doesn’t get jail time? For heroin and coke?”
Vic shrugged. “Guess he had a good lawyer.”
“Or good connections,” Webb said. “Do you have any known associates?”
Vic checked the database. “Rocky Nicoletti,” he deadpanned.
“Besides him.” Webb matched the dry tone.
“Well, his dad’s old-school Mafia,” Vic said.
Webb blinked. “You serious, Neshenko?”
“No joke, sir. Paulie’s old man is Lorenzo Bianchi, AKA Sewer Pipe.”
“It really say that?” Erin asked, walking to peer over Vic’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” he said. “Guess he was on a bathroom break when they were handing out nicknames.”
“What’ve we got on Sewer Pipe?” Webb asked.
Vic was already looking. “He went upstate for a nickel on some sort of sanitation scam back in the ‘90s. There’s a couple assault charges, weapons possession. Bianchi’s been in and out of prison half his life. He’s a bad guy.”
“So is his son, from the sound of it,” Erin said. “Let’s go bring the kid in.”
“Hold on,” Webb said. “If this boy’s connected, we need to take our time a little. This could get political.”
“Great,” Vic muttered.
“Neshenko, I want you to get on the phone with our friends at the FBI.”
“I don’t have any friends at the FBI.”
“You know what I mean,” Webb said. “Find out if the Feebies have anything going on with Bianchi. We don’t want to step on any toes. Suppose we haul this loser’s ass downtown and it spoils some big RICO sting. Then the PC calls up Captain Holliday and reams him out, the Captain tears me a new one, and I have to chew you out, and so on
