Judging Time

'Go ahead, sit down. You look like you need a drink.'

'I need more than a drink, Marv.' Rick sat in the chair, making it look small.

'You sure? I have everything.' He waved at the liquor cabinet hidden behind closed doors.

'I know you do.'

'Okay.' Marvin sat in the other chair, making it look large. 'What did you do to your hair?'

Rick reached for the top of his head. 'Nothing. What's wrong with it?'

'You've gone gray, man. What happened?'

Gray? Rick was startled and lost his train of thought, didn't know what to say. There was no sound in the office but the ticking of a clock that told the time in six major cities around the world. The ticking clock reminded Rick of the shrink, Jason Frank.

'You're going to need time, a lot of time to deal with this, Rick,' Jason had told him. 'There are a lot of stages people go through after a death, before they begin to feel better.' Jason had never sounded so clinical to Rick before. Since his interview, he now understood where they were going with these questions, what he was looking for. He hadn't told Jason everything. How could he?

Rick listened to the clock and knew his time was running out. As Merrill was being buried in Massachusetts, the police had been in his building all afternoon. The Chinese and the Latino rode up and down in the elevator, timing the trip from his apartment to the basement. From his bedroom window, he had seen the two cops cross the garden that had won so many design awards to the matching building facing Fifty-sixth Street. He'd seen them exit through the gate to the street at a walk, at a run. He'd heard from the doorman that they'd also tried the underground routes through the basement and the garage. There were at least six ways out. He'd heard they tried them all. Then they interviewed the people in the building about his and Merrill's habits, even people in the neighboring buildings. By now they would have found out about the fights and Merrill's screaming. One of the maintenance men and a garage attendant apologized to him for having to tell bad things about Merrill.

'I'm sorry for your loss,' Marvin said to break the silence. 'She was a good woman.'

'Yes, she was,' he said with no hesitation.

'It looks bad when a man doesn't go to his own wife's funeral.'

'You did a nice job covering it,' Rick said. 'I appreciate it.'

'Her folks are good people.' Marvin grimaced and rubbed the small of his back. 'It was a long ride to the cemetery and back. ... It took me all day to go, my friend. You had a lot of friends there. We needed to show that, didn't we? Wouldn't be good for the community not to show respect.'

'Well, I appreciate it.'

'You're looking real guilty, man.'

Rick was startled. 'What are you talking about?'

'Merrill's folks believe in you, Rick. Why'd you let them down?'

Rick shook his head. 'I spoke with Merrill's parents several times. They agreed that under the circumstances my presence would be more inflammatory than soothing.'

'I'm not sure that I agree.'

'You can be assured that I will visit them as soon as I can. It's a private thing.'

'No, it's not a private thing, Rick. You're Liberty, understand? You're public property. You belong to this community. You've got to do what's right. You can't let your friends and your community down and then expect me to protect you.'

'I don't need your protection, Marv. I didn't do anything wrong.'

Marvin looked around his crowded office, his whole face a question. 'Then what you doing here, man?'

Rick was engulfed by hellfire. He could feel it licking at him, teasing him with eternal damnation. He squeezed his eyes shut. 'Okay, I do need help.' He had to grit his teeth to say it. 'I need help, okay?'

'Oh, now you need help. Why not go to your partners? Won't they help you now that you're not Mr. White Nigger?'

Rick's jaw worked on his fury. He didn't want to let go and kill a friend. Involuntarily, Marvin moved his chair back. Rick knew how scary he must seem.

'Oh, they'll help me. But I don't want that kind of help.'

Marv made a church and steeple with his fingers. 'Give me a hint. What kind of help?'

'I don't want to hide behind a criminal lawyer.'

'Really? Why not?'

'Because I didn't kill my wife.'

'You think I'm a dumb nigger?'

'Shit, don't start that nigger stuff with me. I hate it. Can't you ever let it go?'

Marvin's first slammed down on his beautiful desk. 'No, I can't.'

'Shit. You're as bad as they are. Makes me sick.'

'Fuck you, asshole. You done a lot of things wrong here. Maybe you're the dumb nigger. You didn't answer my calls. What do you think I am?'

Now Rick pushed his chair back. 'Where are you going with this, Marv?'

Marvin glanced at the laptop in Rick's arms, then gave him a hard look. 'Why did you let your friends and your community down?'

'I'm the victim here!' Rick's voice rose in fury. 'Don't you get it? I'm being set up. The net is closing in. The police are all over my life. You understand? People I haven't seen for ten years have left messages on my machine telling me the cops called about incidents'—he raised his hands—'things that happened—'

'They're doing a background search. So is every TV network, every tabloid.' Marv shrugged, then he laughed. 'So are we.'

'Why? Why?' Rick closed his eyes against the heat of hell.

'Just in case,' Marv said. 'Just in case.' He paused for a moment, then he said, 'What do you want, my friend?'

Rick took a deep breath and exhaled. 'You have resources. You know what's going on. You have to find out about this guy Wally Jefferson, Petersen's driver. I know he's involved somehow. He says he left Merrill and Tor in the restaurant on the night of the murders. But Tor promised me he'd bring Merrill home in his car. Tor knew I didn't like her out on the street at night. Why would Tor let the driver go home on such a bad night? It doesn't make sense.'

'Maybe you're making too much of it.'

'The man stole my car while I was in Europe.'

'Your limo?'

Rick nodded.

Marvin stroked his chin. 'Hmmm. How'd that happen?'

'I was away. He took the car out of the garage. I don't know what he wanted it for.' Rick changed the subject. 'I need to drop out of sight for a day or two.'

'You want me to use my sacred position in this community, where I'm respected as an honest man, to hide a suspected murderer?'

'Oh, come on. I can't even kill a cockroach.'

'You almost killed me a few minutes ago, my friend.'

As sudden as a tiger, Rick lunged out of the chair, his fist clenched. From behind his desk, Marv watched him without flinching. Rick stopped in mid-gesture. He fell back into the chair, shaking his head. 'I'm under a lot of stress.'

'Watch the antiques,' Marv said softly.

'Okay, think of it this way,' Rick said wearily. 'When I'm proved innocent, you'll be the only one in the country with the story. How does that sound?'

Marvin turned his head toward the window, but the magnificent view from the high floor was shrouded by heavy velvet drapes drawn against watchers and the night. 'Looks real bad when a man doesn't attend his own wife's funeral,' he murmured.

'Doesn't mean I won't love her as long as I draw breath.'

'You should try a black woman next time.'

Rick shook his head. 'It never was about color for me. It was about her, but you'll never get that. You're a