Stone Quarry

I lit two cigarettes, passed one to him. He took it, hunching forward in the chair. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

'Listen,' I said, in a voice gentler than the one I'd been using. 'Listen, Jimmy. That's not my only question. I've got a lot of questions, and you're going to have to answer them all. Jimmy?' I waited; he looked up at me. 'You'll have all of me, either way. Either way, Jimmy. But I want to hear it from you.'

He took in smoke, exhaled. He stood, walked around aimlessly, sat down again.

'Wally. That stupid little fuck,' he said in a half-whisper. 'He was real into making trouble for me. With Frank, with Brinkman, with anyone he could think of. And now check it out: he's fucking wasted and he can't stop!' He laughed shortly, looked up at the ceiling, back at me. 'Ain't that a kick in the ass?' He did what I'd done, pushed his cigarette into his beer can, watched it disappear.

He lifted his eyes to mine. 'I didn't kill him, Mr. S.'

By the window, Alice's hand moved slowly to her mouth, and she started to cry.

Jimmy jumped from the chair, moved to Alice's side. He folded an arm around her shoulders, spoke her name softly, but she pulled away. She wiped her eyes, leaving her face streaked with grime.

'I want to go home,' she said, voice quavering. She pulled together her mittens, hat, car keys. 'You don't need me now. I can go.'

'Baby—' Jimmy reached out a hand; she shrugged it off.

'Alice, wait,' I said.

'Why?' she asked unhappily. 'Jimmy has you now. You'll know what to do. I just want to go home.'

'It's not him I'm thinking about. It's you.'

She pulled on her mittens, stood thin-lipped, waiting.

'Remember I said I wasn't the only person looking for Jimmy? One of the other people is Frank Grice. He offered me a thousand dollars.'

Jimmy's eyebrows shot up. 'What the hell for?'

'You.'

They were both silent, digesting that.

I went on, 'If I found you, Alice, Grice can too. He's not a nice man.'

She threw Jimmy a confused look, then back to me. 'I don't understand. What do you want me to do?'

'I don't want you out there in that house by yourself. Is there someone you can stay with?'

'That's ridiculous!' she snapped. 'It's my home. I've always lived there. I'm not afraid of those people.'

'That's a mistake,' I said. 'I am.'

That stopped her. 'Well . . .' She frowned. 'Laura and her husband live in Schoharie.'

'Good,' I said. 'Go there tonight. And I don't want you alone during the day. You know Grice by sight?'

She nodded.

'You even think you see his shadow, call the state troopers.' I described Arnold to her, and Otis and Ted. 'And if anyone does ask you anything, do you think you can lie better than you did to me?'

She flushed crimson, and for the first time she smiled. 'I think so.'

'Good,' I said again. 'You haven't seen Jimmy since he started cheating on you and you threw him out.' Jimmy started to protest; I ignored him. 'You don't know where he is, and you hope he rots in hell. Right? Tell them to go ask his new girlfriend. And tell them if they find him not to bother to tell you about it because you really couldn't care. Can you do that?'

'Yes.' Her voice was clear again.

We looked at each other, the three of us, in the cold, dingy room. The kerosene lamp sputtered.

'If you need me,' I said, 'you have the number; or try Antonelli's.'

Alice opened the door, shut it silently, and was gone.

Jimmy watched at the window as the yellow Plymouth backed into position, headed down the stony road.

He sat down, nodded toward the door, gave me a shamefaced smile. 'I messed that up, huh?'

'Big time,' I said. 'Was it worth it?'

He shook his head.

I lit another Salem, tried to taste the tobacco through the mouth-numbing menthol. 'Okay,' I said. 'Let's get to work.'

He grinned his old grin. 'You're the boss. What do we do now?'

'I ask, you answer. Who killed Wally Gould?'

'Oh, man, I told you, I wasn't there!'

'No, you didn't. You only said you didn't kill him.'

'Well, I wasn't. Happier?'

'Lose the attitude, Jimmy. This isn't a game.'