Stone Quarry

'To show whom?'

'The guys. You know, everyone.'

'Frank?'

'Yeah, she does a lot of shit like that. But it never works. Frank don't want nothing to do with her.'

'Why not? She's too young?'

'Frank don't give a shit about that. He's just, like, he just don't want her around.' He stood, paced the gritty room. 'Jesus, Mr. S., I feel like I don't know a fucking thing. Except I know I'm sick of this place. I'm sick of these clothes, and that goddamn stove, and hearing the goddamn wind all day. Tell me what to do.' There was nothing guarded in his eyes now, nothing hidden. All there was was weariness and fear. 'Whatever you say, I'll do it. You think I should turn myself in?'

I thought about it. 'No. Someone's trying to set you up for Gould's murder. My choice is Frank. That's pretty straightforward, but there's something else going on and I don't want Brinkman to get his hands on you until I know what the hell it is.'

He lifted his shoulders in a helpless gesture.

'Where does Frank live in Cobleskill?' I asked.

'Those condos over the bridge. You know, the ones with the pool. The first building, on the third floor. His name's not on the bell.'

'What name is?'

An embarrassed look. 'Capone.'

'Capone?' 'Uh-huh.'

'Too bad,' I said. 'A sense of humor almost makes a guy human. I'd hate to think that about Frank.'

Jimmy added his cigarette butt to the pile on the table. 'But he's got this other place he uses sometimes, in Franklinton.'

'A grungy green house at the top of Endhill Road?'

Jimmy's eyes widened. 'Uh-huh. How do you know that?'

'I know all sorts of things,' I said. 'And if I knew why Wally Gould was killed at the bar, I could die a happy man.'

'Christ, Mr. S., I've been thinking about that for two days. That basement—-Jesus! Why would anyone go there? There's nothing to steal. Tony hasn't got anything.'

I said, 'Maybe they went there because that's where they had a key to.'

'A key—you mean, mine? That they would've got from Ginny? Yeah, but still . . .'

I finished my beer, set the can down. 'Yeah,' I said. 'But still.' I zipped my jacket, pulled my gloves on. 'Okay, Jimmy. Give me another day. But if I come up with nothing, then I think you should turn yourself in. Not to Brinkman, to the troopers. I have a friend there. And Jimmy? What I said the other night, about if they find you?'

'Yeah, I know. Don't shoot nobody.' He tried to grin.

'Right,' I said.

He stood in the doorway watching us leave. An unsteady shaft of light from the kerosene lamp pointed over the dust and rubble.

'Mr. S.?' he called after us. I turned. 'How's Allie?'

'She's fine,' I said. 'She's worried about you.'

'Tell her ... I don't know. Tell her I was asking.'

In the car, picking our way down the rocky road, I said to Lydia, 'I know he's hard to take.'

'I liked him,' she said.

'You're kidding.'

'No. He reminds me of you.'

'Oh, thanks.'

'You said this wasn't a game anymore. Did he ever really think it was?'

'He said he did. But no. He didn't.'

She steered onto the blacktop. 'Where to, boss?'

I let the 'boss' go. 'Back to my place for my car, then to Antonelli's. You're going to meet our client, and if I'm lucky, Frank Grice will come to me.'

'Ancient Chinese wisdom,' Lydia said. 'That kind of luck you don't need.'

Chapter 16

Eve Colgate was at the bar talking quietly with Tony when Lydia and I walked into Antonelli's. The whole place was quiet, almost back to normal. Sic transit gloria. Tony poured me a drink, put together a club soda with lemon for Lydia. Eve and Lydia, appraising each other, headed for a back table. As I picked my bourbon off the bar to follow them Tony said, 'Smith, I gotta talk to you.'

I glanced at Lydia and Eve, found myself thinking how balanced they were, one quick and dark and small, the