'So what did you tell them?'
'Just what I told you.'
'Which is just about nothing,' I said. Sarcasm was heavy in my voice, but I was in no frame of mind to worry about hurting her feelings. In my estimation, she wasn't the sensitive type anyway.
'I don't know anything.'
'Bullshit!' I said a little too loudly. The waitress behind the serving counter shot me a concerned look. I raised an apologetic hand. The waitress nodded and went on about her business. She knew when to keep her nose out of other people's affairs.
'The men who were in your house,' I said. 'What did you tell them?'
'Nothing,' she said. Her voice was strident. She pawed at the tail of her blouse, hitching it up. Her ribs were red and swollen from repeated whacks from the Yellow Pages. 'Why do you think they were hitting me?'
Okay, then. She did have a point.
She didn't tell them anything. But it didn't mean there was nothing to tell.
Her hands were icy cold when I took them in mine.
'Now, Louise. We're going to start over again. This time you tell me what you know. Okay? You asked me here to help find John. I've traveled thousands of miles. The least you can do is tell me the goddamn truth.'
Louise prized her hands free, then looked down at the table. I thought I detected a tear at the corner of one eye, but I could have been mistaken. She pushed her hair off her face, maybe surreptitiously wiping away the tear. When she looked up at me, it was with clear, defiant eyes.
'John's no killer,' she said.
'I know that,' I told her. 'But he has been up to something illegal. And you know exactly what it is.'
She shook her head, a lock of hair breaking loose and floating across her features. 'If I say anything, he could go to prison.'
I snorted. 'If you say
'If he doesn't go to the gas chamber, that is,' Rink added for emphasis.
'He didn't kill anyone,' Louise said. She was adamant. Her fingernails dug at the tabletop. 'He was with me when some of the murders took place. I can swear to that!'
'You have to prove it, though,' I pointed out. 'Your solemn word
isn't worth shit, Louise. Can you also give him an alibi for the other times of death?'
'That's the problem,' she said. She glanced over at the waitress, checking that she wasn't listening. She leaned toward me and whispered, 'If I say where he really was, he'll get put in prison anyway.'
I looked at Harvey, then at Rink, for support. Both sat with frowns on their faces. It was helpful having such sage council at hand. When I spoke, I'd lost the hard edge to my voice. 'Tell me what he's been up to, Louise. If I'm going to help John, I need to know.'
She chewed at the corner of her lower lip. Any other time it would have looked as sexy as hell. Not now, though. She simply looked like a woman terrified of the consequences of her next words. 'The delivery job,' she said.
'Oh,' I said.
She shook her mane of hair. 'It's not what you think.'
'Not
Louise looked like I'd just thrown salt in her face. 'No. Not drugs. Do you think I'd stand by him if he
I placed my hands flat on the table, leaned forward to stare in her face. 'Depends on how much you love him.'
Louise snorted and gave me the dead eye.
'Okay. Sorry. I don't doubt that you love him.'
'It wasn't drugs,' she stated.
'Okay,' I said, relieved. 'So what was he doing?'
Louise picked up her coffee in defiance, drained it, placed the cup back down. A stall while she ordered the words in her mind. 'He was couriering.'
'Couriering what?'
'It wasn't so much what as who he was doing it for.' She glanced around again. 'Like I said, if the police find out, he'll be in deep shit.'
'Let's worry about finding John first,' I said. 'We can worry about the police later.'
Louise dropped her head in acquiescence.
'He stole something. Something big.'
I blinked. 'Something big?'
'That's all I know. He wouldn't say what it was.'
I pushed my hands through my hair, back down over my face, then leaned my elbows on the table. 'You've got to be kidding me,' I finally said. Though I knew she wasn't. John had got very good at hiding secrets toward the end.
