My heart literally jumped in my chest, my joy so overwhelming my cheeks reddened as if they’d been slapped. I felt the hairs rise on the back of my neck and my fingers lock onto the pipe. If I’d had a tail, it would have twitched. Then, from somewhere inside the apartment, I heard a toilet flush. Time to go. I hesitated just long enough to give the bars a tug, hoping to discover them loose, but they didn’t move by so much as a millimeter. Then I began to work my way back down, finding the descent as easy as the climb.
I was in front of the building, taking note of the lock on the door leading upstairs, when a cruiser turned onto North Third Street. I straightened quickly, easing the billfold containing my shield and ID out of my pocket. Hoping the cops inside the cruiser were simply patrolling their sector, I pressed the billfold against my hip. No such luck. As the cruiser approached, the driver trained his six-cell flashlight on my face. I reacted immediately, altering my path until I was walking toward the vehicle, my billfold raised to expose my shield. But the light didn’t drop to my chest until I came within a few feet of the door. Now I could see the face of the cop holding the flashlight, Officer Frank Gerhaty, the PBA delegate at the very center of the rumors that swirled around me in the Nine-Two. Beside him, in the jump seat, a female officer unknown to me had her arms folded beneath her breasts.
‘I hope it wasn’t you creepin’ that alley, detective,’ Gerhaty said.
I responded by snatching the flashlight out of his hand, unscrewing the head, dumping the batteries into the street, finally tossing the pieces back through the window. I would have taken it further if there hadn’t been a witness. As it was, I satisfied myself with a cryptic remark before walking away.
‘The door you’re knockin’ on, you better pray it doesn’t open, Frank, because what’s inside will swallow you whole.’
TWENTY-EIGHT
There was no good reason to get out early on the following morning. The Portolas wouldn’t be leaving their home until noon. But I was too restless to sit still. I was up at eight o’clock, scrambling a couple of eggs, washing them down with coffee. Then I dragged the vacuum cleaner out of the closet and went to work. I needed to keep busy.
I was in my office, the vacuum cleaner so loud I failed to hear the house phone until the answering machine kicked on, then off. A second later, the cell phone in my pocket began to ring.
‘Corbin, it’s me.’
I glanced at my watch. It was a quarter to nine.
‘Adele, I was gonna call you later.’
When she hesitated, I felt my stomach churn. I was sure she’d challenge me, that she’d claim I was avoiding her. The accusation would be ironic, of course, since she was the one who had left town. But it would also be true.
Instead, she changed the subject. ‘Did you make contact with the maid?’ she asked.
I smothered a sigh of relief. ‘Tynia Cernek. That’s her name. Sister Kassia and I spoke to her on the street for a few minutes. We’ll have a longer session today around noon while the family’s out of the house.’
‘You think she can help?’
‘Not with the murder investigation, not directly. She didn’t even know that Mynka was dead.’
‘What about indirectly?’
‘Once I put this business with Sister Kassia behind me, I’m going to take a shot at one of the Portolas. If I pick the wrong one, I’m in big trouble. So, the more I know about them, the better.’ I went on to describe the family, each of them, in detail. ‘Margaret’s out of the question,’ I concluded. ‘She’ll lawyer up right away. It’s between the two kids.’
‘Do you think Margaret killed Mynka?’
‘It’s too early for that. Plus, right now, I’m trying to concentrate on the deal I made with Sister Kassia and Father Stan.’
‘Actually, that’s why I called. I can’t stop thinking about what you said yesterday.’
I glanced through the window, at a wall of brick across the way. I told myself not to be distracted, no matter what came next. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, Corbin. You plan to wait until Saturday night, when the women and their children are together, then force an entry in order to pull them out.’
‘If there’s another option that accounts for them, I don’t know it.’
‘That’s not the point.’ Adele gave it a few beats, then said, ‘The point is that you’re going in alone. And don’t deny it.’
‘Well, I definitely deny it. I’m not going in alone. I’m going in with Sister Kassia.’
Adele laughed, in spite of herself. ‘That’s good. That’s you. But what about Hansen?’
‘First, I promised to keep the priest’s name out of it. Second, I have no idea what Bill Sarney will do if he gets his hands on those women before I do.’ I stopped for a moment as I collected my thoughts. ‘Look, I’m assuming that Aslan’s presence in this country, if it ever becomes public knowledge, would embarrass somebody high up on the food chain. But I don’t know why or who, and I don’t ever expect to know. This does not bother me, Adele. I can live with it. But there’s still a question. If I call in Sarney and Hansen, whose interests will they represent? A bunch of illegal immigrants and their snot-nosed brats? Or that top-feeder I just mentioned?’
I paused long enough to catch a breath. ‘On the other hand, if I get them away from Aslan and if Sister Kassia supplies them with a lawyer before Sarney knows what’s happening, the potential for negative publicity will force the bosses to cooperate.’
There was nothing more to be said on the subject and Adele remained silent for a moment before returning to her original point. ‘What you’ve said, Corbin, doesn’t affect the bottom line one bit. You plan to go in alone. How do you know that Aslan won’t be waiting for you?’
‘Aslan doesn’t live with his workers. Most of the time, they’re chaperoned by a woman named Zashka Ochirov, who also cares for the children. I’m going to arrange some sort of signal with Tynia — maybe a window up or down — to let me know if there’s anyone in the apartment besides Zashka. And I don’t plan to kick the door open. Tynia will open it when I knock.’
Adele’s tone sharpened. ‘Have you bothered to count the number of things that can go wrong?’
‘I stopped when I ran out of fingers. But, hey, Tynia gave me the address of the apartment where she stayed last weekend. I went there yesterday and spotted Zashka Ochirov. Now, it just so happens that I have witnesses who can put Zashka at Domestic Solutions when Barsakov was killed. That gives me an excuse to detain her, to put her in the box. Adele, Zashka’s a petty con artist. If I was willing to let Tynia and the rest fend for themselves, I could break Zashka in an hour. You hear what I’m saying? If I forget about these women, I can put Aslan behind me in a couple of days without taking any serious risk. Remember, it was you, Sister Kassia and Father Stan who insisted that I protect their interests.’
The outburst surprised both of us. I found myself carrying the phone into the bedroom, too wired to stand still.
‘I’m sorry,’ I finally said.
‘It’s my fault, Corbin. I should be there with you.’
The words smacked into me, opening a hole through which Adele poured. I felt a rush of emotion, a longing deep enough to drown in, as though a floodwall had broken. It was the last thing I needed. I glanced at my watch as I pulled myself together. ‘I have to go,’ I said. ‘I have to meet Sister Kassia. This is a big day for us.’
‘I understand. It’s all right. I only wanted to catch up.’
Sister Kassia and I found seats on a convenient bench in Riverside Park a little after ten. We proceeded to wash down a bag of cheese blintzes with large containers of coffee picked up at a nearby Starbucks. Sister Kassia had prepared the blintzes early that morning and they were incredibly soft and delicate.
‘I thought,’ she told me as she unwrapped them, ‘that we might do better than a bag of stale doughnuts.’
She was right, and I showed my gratitude, once our breakfast was consumed and I’d cleaned my fingers, by reviewing the items I wanted our impending interview with Tynia Cernek to include. Sister Kassia was slated to conduct the interview, which meant she and Tynia would be speaking Polish. The point was to establish trust, to head off any last-minute resistance when I finally came knocking on that door in Astoria.
