'Me, too. But alas, short-lived. There's been a development.'
'Talk to me.'
The way Glitsky decided he had to play it was to have Sadie call the police and appear to take care of the matter herself. His own involvement under any guise wasn't going to be appreciated, no matter what spin he put on it. He felt pretty much out of spin in any case.
Sadie lived in a stand-alone bungalow on Palm Avenue, not far from the synagogue. Inside, the place was a pin-neat kitsch warehouse. Every conceivable surface-the top of the television set, the breadbasket in the kitchen- every inch of flat space was covered with a doily and then a knickknack or doll, a porcelain piece or souvenir. Coney Island! Disneyland! Niagara Falls! The Grand Canyon! Tiny dogs and cute little cats. Pincushions.
Sadie cleared a spot big enough to hold a teapot and cups on the small table in front of the sofa in the living room. It had grown dark outside by now. With two small sconced wall lights by the door providing the only illumination, Glitsky thought it probably wasn't light enough to read, but neither his father, who sat next to her on the couch, nor Sadie herself seemed to mind, or even notice.
She poured his tea and sat expectantly while he tried to explain. 'I know that because I'm with the police, it seems like I would be the natural choice to take your information, especially since I know you. You know Nat. We're all a little like family. But that's not really how it works.'
'I know how offices work,' she said, laying a frail hand on his. 'Somebody's afraid you're going to get the credit.'
'Maybe there's some of that. But basically there are two inspectors in the homicide detail who are handling the case-in this instance probably all of these cases-and whatever information comes to the police ought to be funneled through them.'
Sadie was smiling at him as though he were somehow feeble. She had left her hand, cool and crepe-skinned, over his, and now she exerted some slight pressure for emphasis. 'I'll do whatever you tell me and talk to anybody you want. All I know is what I saw.'
'I saw it, too,' Nat repeated, and Sadie rewarded him with a grateful look.
'And that's the ring, this sapphire ring?'
'Well, yes, that one stands out. But really, there wasn't any jewelry taken at all, although that would of course be harder to prove.'
'And why is that?'
'Because they may have taken something I'd never seen. Maybe Sam had taken in some stones or something that day. I wouldn't have known they were there, then, would I?'
'No. Of course you're right.' Glitsky decided he'd fallen into the error of assuming that Sadie wasn't as sharp as a younger person might have been. Enough of that. 'So you could swear that the sapphire ring was in the case when you went there with Nat?'
'Yes. No doubt of it. We-Nat and I-we even wrote it on the inventory before you stopped us. I've got it saved.'
Given the condition of the house, this didn't surprise Glitsky, but he was still glad of it. 'That's good. You might want to bring that with you when you talk to the inspectors.'
'Well, shall we call them now?' she asked. 'I'd like to get this out of the way. It just doesn't seem right that this other man…'
'John Holiday?'
'Yes, that was it. That this Mr. Holiday-well, I don't see that he killed Sam, let's put it that way. I think somebody must have been trying to be too clever by half. Maybe they didn't know-they must not have known-that Nat and I had been in the shop that other night. If it had only been the money, that would have been stronger.'
Glitsky felt a small shiver at the back of his neck. 'Let me ask you something else, if I may. Didn't I hear that Sam had stopped using the Patrol Specials last summer?'
She nodded. 'It just didn't seem to be worth it. Mr. Panos was asking more and more. We hadn't had any kind of trouble for years and years. We talked about it, but just finally thought…'
Nat reached over and patted her hand. 'It's all right,' he said. 'They were there that night and it didn't save him anyway, did it?'
'No,' she said with great sadness. 'You're right. You're right. It wasn't that.'
'But my point,' Abe said, 'is whether they still had a key to the shop.'
20
The 49ers had a good day and beat Green Bay 21-3. The tickets Roy Panos had given Dan Cuneo were at the forty-five yard line, fifteen rows off the field. Perfect seats. The sun was out and there was no wind, though it was chilly enough here at Candlestick Point that now, walking back to his car, Liz snugged up close up against him, her arm around his waist.
She felt the vibration, too. 'What's that?'
'Pager,' he said. He pulled the little unit off his belt. 'My partner, from home.'
As he held it, it vibrated again, and he sighed, smiling at her. 'And here's another one.'
'Mister Popularity,' she said.
'That's me.' But when he saw the number, his smile faded. 'My boss, from his home.'
He had a cell phone in his car, and he called Gerson first. The lieutenant told him that the Silverman widow had called earlier in the day, saying she had discovered some new and important information about her husband's murder. Gerson wanted Cuneo to go and talk to her. He gave him the address.
'I'm on it,' Cuneo said. He hung up, turned to Liz. 'Work.'
Liz wore a half-mocking pout. 'You don't really seem too sad about it.'
'It's a big case,' he said. 'This Silverman thing again.'
'I thought you had a suspect for that.'
'We do. Maybe somebody's found where he is. That could be what this is.'
'And then what?'
'And then maybe I get to make the arrest.'
'All by yourself?'
Modest, he shrugged. 'If I have to.'
She smiled at him now. 'You love what you do, don't you?'
'Yes, ma'am, I sure do.'
'But how do I know for sure those two calls really weren't other girlfriends?'
He turned to her in the car seat. 'First, because I'm a policeman, and cops don't lie. Second, I don't have other girlfriends. I'm not even sure I have one girlfriend, to tell you the truth, although I was kind of hoping to find out about that before too long.'
Smiling, she took the cue and leaned across the seat, brought her lips up to his. The kiss went on for close to a minute, and there was nothing platonic about it. When they separated, she said, 'On that girlfriend question, you can say you have one if you decide you want to.'
For the first time in quite a while, Cuneo was tempted to let something else come before his work. He struggled to get a breath, leaned over and kissed her again. His hand found her breast. One of her hands went to his leg. His pager went off again. The kiss ended and he groaned, pulled the pager from his belt. 'Lincoln again,' he said. 'Would you like to call this time, make sure it's really him and not a girl?'
'That's all right,' she said. 'I think I believe you. Will whatever it is you're doing this afternoon take a long time?'
'It's hard to say. I don't even know what it's all about yet. But if I'm done early, I could stop by again and maybe we could…'
Her finger traced his lower lip, shutting him up. 'No maybe about it,' she said.
