Leona rolled her eyes. 'Almost everybody. Marion Beddle was a Grizolli before she was married. You know about Vito Grizolli? And then Phil Zuck in mortgages lives next door to Sy Bernstein, the lawyer who was just disbarred for illegal practices. The guard has a brother in Rahway, doing time for burglary. You want me to go on?'
'Let's take this from a different direction. Is there anyone here who looks too successful for his job? You know, has too much money? Or is there anyone here who desperately needs money? Anyone who likes to gamble? Anyone doing expensive drugs?'
'Hmm. That's a harder question. Annie Shuman has a sick kid. Some kind of bone disease. Lots of doctor bills. Couple of people who play the numbers. I'm one of them. Rose White likes to go to Atlantic City and play the slots.'
'I don't get what you want to know this for anyway,' Lula said to me.
'We know of three companies with extra accounts in this bank. We think there's a possibility those accounts were opened to hold illegal money. So maybe there's a good reason the accounts were opened here.'
'Like someone here in the bank is involved,' Lula said.
'I see where you're going,' Leona said. 'You're suggesting we're laundering money. The money comes into those accounts you asked me about and almost immediately goes out.'
'I don't know if it's exactly laundering,' I said. 'Where does the money go?'
'I don't have that information,' Leona said. 'You'd need a bank officer for that. And probably they wouldn't tell you. I'm sure that would be confidential. You should talk to Shempsky.'
We hung around for another fifteen minutes, but Shempsky didn't materialize.
'Maybe we should go get that wife beater,' Lula said. 'I bet he's sitting in his living room, drinking beer, being a jerk.'
I looked at my watch. Noon. Chances were good that Kenyon Lally was just getting up. Unemployed drunks were usually slow risers. Might be a good time to snag him.
'Okay,' I said, 'we'll take a ride over.'
'Gonna fit right in with the BMW,' Lula said. 'Everybody in the projects gonna think you're a drug dealer.'
Oh, great.
'I know about the bomb sensors and all,' Lula said after we'd gone about a half mile, 'but I still got the heebie-jeebies sitting next to you.'
I knew exactly where she was coming from. I felt like that, too. 'I could take you back to the office if you're uncomfortable.'
'Hell, no. I'm not that freaked out. It just makes you wonder, you know? Anyway, I felt like that when I was a 'ho, too. You never knew when you were gonna get in the car with some maniac.'
'It must have been a tough job.'
'Most of my customers were repeaters, so that wasn't too bad. The worst part was standing around on the corner. Don't matter if it's hot or cold or raining, you still gotta stand there. Most people think the hard part's being on your back, but the hard part is being on your feet all day and night. I got varicose veins from standing too many hours on my feet. I guess if I'd been a better 'ho I'd have been on my back more and my feet less.'
I took Nottingham to Greenwood, turned right off Greenwood, and crossed the railroad tracks. Trenton subsidized housing always reminded me of a POW camp, and in many ways, that's exactly what it was. Although, in all fairness, I have to say they aren't the worst I've ever seen. And they were preferable to living on
'We want the next building,' Lula said. '
I parked around the corner, a block away, so Lally wouldn't see us coming, got out, and studied Lally's photo.
'Nice touch with the vest,' Lula said. 'It'll come in handy when the Welcome Wagon shows up.'
The sky was gray and the wind whipped across yards. A few cars were parked on the street, but there was no activity. No dogs, no kids, no stoop sitters. It looked like a ghost town with Hitler as architect.
Lula and I walked to 4B and rang the bell.
Kenyon Lally answered the door. He was my height and rangy, wearing low-slung jeans and a thermal T-shirt. His hair was uncombed, and his face was unshaven. And he looked like a man who smacked women around.
'Hunh,' Lula said when she saw him.
'We don't need no Girl Scout cookies,' Lally said. And he slammed the door shut.
'I hate when people do that,' Lula said.
I rang the bell again, but there was no response.
'Hey!' Lula yelled. 'Bail Enforcement Agents. Open this door!'
'Go fuck yourself,' Lally yelled back.
'The hell with this bullshit,' Lula said. She gave the door a kick with her foot, and the door banged open.
We were both so surprised we just stood there. Neither of us had expected the door to open.
'Government housing,' Lula finally said with a shake of her head. 'It makes you wonder, don't it?'
