Ivan laughed uneasily. 'She came looking for Lin. That's how we knew where the baby was. She even left her number. Lin never told us. Annie got scared and told us last night after the girl was dead.' 'Why'd she have to die?' Anton's face was white.
'She was sick. Who knows about these girls? Now we all have to get checked. It really bums me.'
'Oh, God. You guys are pigs.'
'Yeah, so? Anyway there are these guys watching us.'
'Well, sure. The cops, the media, a lot of people are watching you.'
'Uh-uh. These guys are I-tals. Buildings burn down around here. Things happen—you know what I'm talking about. You don't mess with those people.'
'Oh, give me a break. I'm not going to worry about some pizza maker. That baby's mine.'
'Not anymore. Your wife gave him back.'
'Don't make me mad,' said Anton.
'It's a fact. She gave it back,' Ivan said.
'She changed her mind. Now she wants him back,' Anton insisted.
'Too late. Lin gave it to her cousin. It's on Long Island,' Ivan said.
'Shut up, you jerk,' Marc snapped.
'How do I know that? How do I know he's alive? How do I know you didn't get rid of him? How can I believe any of this?' Anton raged.
'Guess you'll have to take our word for it.'
'No, I refuse. After what happened, I can't trust you.'
'You have to let it go, Anton. We don't want any more trouble.' Suddenly Ivan was the serious one. 'One of our girls got pregnant. We tried to do a good deed. It didn't work out. The woman gave her baby to her cousin, then jumped out the window of our factory. That's all we know. It's got to stop there.'
'I did a lot of things for you, covered up your fuck-ups for years. You owe me.'
'This is out of your control.'
'You owe me.'
Ivan heaved a sigh. 'You don't understand, Anton. You don't know how it is down here. It's delicate.'
'You killed a girl, and you care about 'delicate'?'
Ivan crossed the space between them with one leap and was pummeling his cousin before Anton could finish the sentence. 'Don't you dare accuse me!'
'For Christ's sake, give him the name.' Always the one to smooth things over, Marc went to the refrigerator. 'Want a beer?' he offered the other two. No one answered. 'Big deal, so all right. You want the name, I'll give you the name.' He popped the top of a beer can, held it out to Anton. 'There, happy now?'
Anton's nose was gushing blood, but he took the can. 'Yeah.'
CHAPTER 42
Y
ou did what?' Lieutenant Bernardino glared at April.
A boss's anger always made her head swim. She could feel herself regress to the state of terror she'd endured in ancient times, back when Bernardino had been in charge of her life. 'Gotta go,' she murmured, avoiding his eye. 'Is Baum back yet?'
'You're not going anywhere. You're going to stay here and translate that fucking tape. How could you do that to me, after I left you alone to do it your way, huh?' He really didn't like the Chinese interview.
April was back on the other side of the desk in the lieutenant's visitor's chair, reminding herself he wasn't her boss anymore. Fear of him receded quickly, but now the heat rose in her body again, beading up her forehead. The sweat and puking came in waves now. April checked her watch. She had to go.
'So, what did she say?' Bernardino demanded.
'She said her job was to watch the door. You know what that means.' She picked up a file from Bernardino's desk and fanned her wet face. 'Let her sit in an interview room for a few hours, then try her again. I don't think she was anywhere near the place when the death occurred. Her boss must have called her at home and asked her to come down and cover for him after the girl was dumped. She didn't know the girl had been beaten. When are you going to talk to the Popescus?' Breathe in, breathe out.
'Soon.'
Breathe in, breathe out. 'One of them was probably messing with her. Maybe both. When I asked Annie what the victim was doing there at night, she said the girl liked to sleep there because it was quiet.'
'Oh, yeah? So these jerks were running a flophouse for the girls, too?'
'This gives me an ugly idea.' April closed her eyes. She was feeling really sick.
'You want to share it?'
She shook her head. Give me a minute, will you?
He drummed his fingers on the desk. 'April, you with me?'
'Yeah.' She swallowed.
'What if she gave birth there in the Popescus' building?' Alfie rocked his chair, thinking. 'That might play.'
'Is Baum back? I gotta go,' she said faintly.
'No way. You're not finished here.'
'Alfie, I don't work here anymore. I'm looking for a missing baby, that's all.' She put the file down and concentrated on rallying the energy she needed to leave.
'Hey, I didn't go looking for you. You came down here wanting my people to trace newborns. This is not what we do here.'
'Well, I truly appreciate your helping out.'
Bernardino changed the subject. 'April, you look like shit. Maybe you should take the rest of the day off.' His hollow cheeks were corrugated with concern. That meant he wanted her to take the day off from Midtown North.
'No, thanks.'
He continued to rock forward and back, exercising his chair. His shrewd eyes went from hard to soft to hard again. 'What's the matter? We're old friends— you can tell me.'
'I know.'
'You in trouble, kiddo?'
'Nothing long-term,' she assured him. Unless it turned out to be fatal.
'What's with the—' He wiggled his fingers in front of his nose.
'Old family remedy. If I die, you can investigate my mother.'
Alfie laughed. 'What did you do to piss her off this time?'
April shook her head.
'Are you sure you're not—you know . . .' Alfie's hand curved over his belly.
'For Christ's sake, Alfie, stop pushing. I'm not going to tell you.'
'I'm not a detective for nothing, sugar.'
'Well, get off the idea. It's not that. When are you getting organized on this?'
'I'm organized. You might want to know your boy, Woody Tree, has Heather Rose Popescu and her parents downstairs. Heather wants to talk to somebody.' Alfie frowned over her head at the squad room door. 'You know this guy?'
April turned around as Mike pushed the door open without invitation. He swaggered into Alfie's glass box, looking very much the cool dude with his silky black hair and luxuriant mustache, in his uniform of cowboy boots and coordinating grays—pants, jacket, shirt, tie. And, for April, a shit-eating grin.
Her sweaty face lit up. 'Never saw him before,' she said.
'Mike Sanchez, Homicide. How ya doin'?' he said, advancing to the desk with his hand out.
April introduced Alfie. 'My old boss, Lieutenant Bernardino, the guy who taught me everything.'
'I thought I taught you everything,' Mike countered.
'How ya doin, Mike? I got a call about you. You going to clear this thing up for us?' Bernardino shook
