Fake I.D.

“Thanks again for your time, Mr. Russo,” Himoto said, and he left the room.

The other detectives walked out too, except Mike.

“So what’s the deal with Himoto?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about him,” Mike said. “You just hit a sore spot with him, that’s all. His kid’s a major-league homo, an AIDS activist, the whole nine yards.”

“So they really think Gary did it, huh?” I said.

“Maybe,” Mike said. “They have some DNA evidence they’re gonna run by the lab—see if it brings a match.”

“What kind of evidence?” I asked.

“They found a couple of pubes on the body,” Mike said. “Some guy was probably balling her before she died.”

Mike walked me to the front of the precinct, updating me about the rest of the case. He said that the cops still didn’t know much about Debbie’s whereabouts before she was killed. She was last seen at a Chinese restaurant on Second Avenue at around 4:30 Wednesday afternoon, but they had no idea where she went after that or how her body wound up in Brooklyn. At the door, Mike thanked me again for coming down and he said he doubted he’d need to talk to me again. We shook hands goodbye.

Sixteen

Things at work seemed to be going back to normal. There were no cops or reporters around—just the usual cronies, finishing up getting drunk before they went home to their wives. Kathy had the night off, but Gil was sitting on a stool, writing in his little notebook, and even Frank was there, sitting at a table alone, nursing a beer. It kind of surprised me to see Frank at the bar, after the way he was last night, but it made a lot of sense too. Maybe he finally realized that Debbie was just a big headache and he was a lot better off with her out of the way.

“Hey,” I said, sitting down across from him.

“Hey, Tommy,” he said, looking up. He seemed happy to see me.

“You look a lot better than you did last night,” I said.

“I look like shit and you know it,” he said. “I wouldn’t have come in, but I didn’t know what else to do with myself. I was up all night on the phone with Debbie’s relatives. Now I’ve got a funeral to plan.”

“Hey, if you want me to take care of that I can,” I said.

“I appreciate it, Tommy, but that’s all right. My sister’s coming up from Maryland and she’ll help out. It’s just hard, you know?”

“You just gotta hang in there—be strong,” I said. “I was by the police precinct before.”

“Yeah, they had Gil and Gary there too.”

“Gary? I thought they—”

“That’s the good news. The police said Gary isn’t a suspect anymore.”

“Why not?”

“He had an alibi for Wednesday, the time they think Debbie was killed. He was at his friend’s house in Astoria.”

“That is good news,” I said. “Lemme go hang up my coat.”

It turned out to be the slowest Friday night I’d ever seen at O’Reilley’s. By eight o’clock there were only two customers in the bar, then they left and the place was empty.

I was back by the bar, playing a Queen CD, when Rodrigo walked in. He glared at me with dark, pissed-off eyes, then he sat down at the table across from Frank. Over “We Will Rock You” I couldn’t make out what Rodrigo was saying, but I didn’t like the looks of it. A few times, Frank looked over at me, and I knew Rodrigo was telling Frank about the robbery. I couldn’t understand why he was telling him now, after he’d kept the secret for so long.

Rodrigo sat at the table with Frank for a while longer—Rodrigo doing all the talking, Frank just sitting there, looking over at me once in a while, taking it in. Then Rodrigo got up and, without looking at me, went toward the kitchen. I was going to follow him, find out what the hell was going on, when Frank got up and came over to me, sitting down on a stool across the bar.

“Let me guess,” I said before Frank could say anything. “Rodrigo was trying to get me back.”

“Get you back?” Frank asked.

“We had a little incident here the other night when you weren’t around,” I said, smiling. “His wife came into the bar and I didn’t know she was his wife—I just thought she was a good-looking Mexican girl. And you know how I am when I see a pretty face. I started talking to her, just polite talk, and Rodrigo saw us and flipped out. You know, Mexicans with their machismo. The fuckin’ guy thought I was trying to pick up his wife.” I laughed. “Anyway, he got all hot-headed, started calling me names and I said something about his mother. I guess now he’s getting me back by telling you shit about me. Am I right?”

“He said you robbed the safe.”

“I knew it. You’d think the guy could’ve come up with a more original way to get even than to start making up rumors about me. What does he think this is, high school?”

Frank was staring at me.

“What?” I said. “Don’t tell me you believe that bullshit?”

“You went to Vegas Monday night?”

“Yeah,” I said, figuring the cops must’ve told him so there was no point denying it. “So what?”

“I was gonna say something about it before, but now it all makes sense. Where the hell did you get the money to go to Las Vegas?”

Frank was screaming. I’d never heard him scream before, at anybody, but I decided not to take it personally. He was probably just pissed off about all the shit that was happening lately and he was taking it out on me.

“I hit at the track,” I said calmly.

“I thought you told me you weren’t gonna bet anymore?”

“What can I say?” I said. “I’ve got a problem. And if you wanna know the truth I’ve signed up for Gamblers Anonymous.”

“Rodrigo told me he saw you leave here that night, carrying a big garbage bag.”

“Rodrigo’s a liar.”

“I’ve been through too much the past twenty-four hours to put up with any more bullshit,” he said. “To be honest, I don’t really care about the robbery anymore, but I just want to know the truth now, once and for all —”

“I told you the truth. Come on, I don’t even know the combination to the safe, remember?”

“Maybe you saw me or Gary going into it one time.”

“That’s crazy. Don’t listen to Rodrigo. If Rodrigo saw me steal the money why wouldn’t he’ve told you right away?”

Frank took a deep breath. “He said he would’ve told me about it right away, but he was afraid to get involved with the police because he was working here illegally.”

“So why is he telling you now?”

“His green card just came through this afternoon.”

“Come on,” I said. “The guy’s lying—he probably took that money himself and now he’s just trying to cover his own ass.”

While I was talking, Gary stormed into the bar. He looked crazy. His hair was a mess and he looked tired, like he hadn’t slept since the last time I saw him. Swinging his arms, he walked around the bar and came right up to me.

“He did it,” Gary said to Frank. “I told you right away, but you didn’t believe me. First he robbed you, then he killed Debbie.”

“Hey, watch your fuckin’ mouth,” I said.

Now Gil came over and he was standing behind Gary.

“Why don’t you just cool it?” Gil said.

“Stay the hell out of this,” Gary said. “This is between me and this killer right here.”