'You'd know that, of course. He had a racket there.'
'Credit cards.'
He nodded. 'He came to me with it, I put him in touch with someone. There's a lot of money in it, those little plastic cards, though it's not the kind of business I care for, not for myself. You can't get your hands into it, it's moving numbers around. But it was a good thing for all concerned, and then they caught on at the restaurant and they let him go.'
'That's where he met Paula.'
He nodded. 'She was in it with him. She would run an impression of the cards on her own machine before she took the cards to the cashier.
Or they'd give her their carbons to tear up, only she wouldn't do it, she'd pass them on to Neil. After he left she stayed on there, and he had her bringing slips and carbons to him, he had girls at a couple of places doing that. But then she quit, she didn't care to wait on tables anymore.'
He picked up the glass and took a drink. 'She moved in with him.
She kept her room so that her parents wouldn't know what she was doing. Sometimes she came to the bar when he was working, but more often she'd wait and come by for him when his shift was over. He didn't just tend bar.'
'He still had his credit card scam?'
'That didn't last. But hanging around, you know, he found things to do. You could tell him the make and model and he'd steal you a car.
He went along a couple of times when some boys took off a truck.
There's good money in that.'
'I'm sure there is.'
'The details don't matter. He was all right, you know, for what he was. But it bothered me, having her around.'
'Why?'
'Because she didn't fit. She was along for the ride but she didn't belong. What does her father do?'
'He sells Japanese cars.'
'And not stolen ones, either.'
'I wouldn't think so, no.'
He uncapped the bottle, raised it. He asked me if I wanted more coffee.
'I'm fine,' I said.
'I should be drinking coffee myself. When I'm up this long, though, the whiskey is like coffee to me, it fuels it and keeps it all rolling.' He filled his glass. 'She was a nice Protestant girl from Indiana,' he said.
'She'd steal, but she stole for the thrill of it. You can't trust that, it's almost as bad as a man who kills for the thrill of it. A good thief doesn't steal for the thrill. He steals for the money. And the best thief of all steals because he's a thief.'
'What happened to Paula?'
'She heard something she shouldn't have heard.'
'What?'
'You don't have to know. Ah, what's the difference? There were these dago bastards brought in a load of heroin and sold it, and someone shot the whole fucking lot of them and took their money. There was something in the papers. They got it all wrong, but maybe you remember it.'
'I remember it.'
'He had her out at the farm. There's a farm up in Ulster County, it has another man's name on the deed, but it's mine the way the car and Grogan's are mine.' He took a drink. He said, 'I don't own a fucking thing, can you believe that? One fellow lets me drive his car, another lets me live in an apartment even if his name's on the lease. And there's this couple, his people are from County Westmeath, he's always liked the country. He and his wife live there and the deed says they own it, and he milks the cows and slops the hogs and she feeds the chickens and collects the eggs, and I can go and stay up there anytime I want. And if some bastard from Internal Revenue ever wants to know where my money came from, why, what money? What do I own I ever had to buy?'
'Neil had Paula at the farm,' I prompted.
'And everyone was relaxed, and talking freely, and she heard too damn much. And she wouldn't stand up, you know. If anyone was to ask her a question, she'd be the white-bread Protestant girl from Indiana, you know, and she'd tell them everything. So I told Neil he had to get rid of her.'
'You ordered him to kill her?'
'The hell I did!' He slammed the glass on the table, and at first I thought his anger was for me, that the question itself enraged him. 'I never told him to kill her,' he said. 'I said he should send her to hell and gone out of New York. She'd be no danger if she wasn't around. She wouldn't have anybody asking her questions back in Indiana, not the cops nor the fucking guineas either. But if she was around, you know, there was always the chance she could turn out to be a problem.'
'But he mistook your orders?'
'He did not. Because he came back and told me it was all taken care of. She'd got on a plane to Indianapolis and we'd never be seeing her again. She was all checked out of her room, all on her way back home, and she was no loose end for anybody to be nervous about.' He picked up his glass again, put it down, pushed it a few inches away from him. 'The other night,' he said, 'when I turned over the card you gave me and saw her picture staring
