Lily, and I knew she’d almost said “works like a dog” but caught herself.
“I know that.”
“She works two, three, four jobs. She’s determined to go back to her country and make a real life.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t think you do, Artie.”
“Where else does she work?”
“She does anything-cleaning, babysitting, she works at a local coffee shop. The job market sucks, you know that.”
“Why don’t we go upstairs.”
“I don’t see why you want to know about Marie Louise suddenly? You’re doing a favor for a pal in immigration?”
“No.”
All the time we were talking, Virgil stood back, phone in hand, watching us, his face expressionless. “I have to go,” he said suddenly. “I’m going to leave a couple of guys here to wait for the animal people.” Without another word to Lily or me, he left the room, and I could hear his footsteps as he went down the hall.
He knows, I thought. He knows Lily and I were together last night.
“Can you go see if Marie Louise is at Lennox’s place?” I said to Lily when we got upstairs. “I don’t want to bother her if I don’t have to,” I added. “You understand? But she cleaned for the Hutchisons and maybe she saw something, or someone, OK? I’ll try to help her. If I can.”
Lily nodded, handed me her keys, I went into her apartment as she walked across the hall. Less than a minute later, she was back.
“She’s there,” she said. “Marie Louise is at Carver’s place. She said she’d stop by when she was done.”
“That’s good.”
“I don’t believe she did anything,” said Lily. “I want a drink.”
“Me too.” I went to the kitchen, found the Scotch and some glasses, and poured the drinks.
Dropping her shawl onto the floor, Lily slumped onto a kitchen stool, took the glass, drank half the Scotch in one gulp.
“At least it’s over. With Marianna. At least there’s that,” said Lily, who, in spite of Hutchison’s death and the dead dog, seemed composed, as if the trip to the cemetery had helped steady her. Maybe she was relieved that her friend had been buried, that she, Lily, had done the right thing.
I put my hand on her shoulder. “What was it like?”
“Lonely,” she said.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked at me. “There was nobody except me and the guys making the grave, putting the coffin in like something in a bad Shakespeare production. I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry-you know how I can get really stupid giggles at the wrong time?”
“I remember.”
“So, I’m there alone in this cemetery, and there’s only one other group, at a grave close by, and they’re all in black. They look like something from a mafia movie, except I guess they’re Jews, since it’s a Jewish place, and there’s me, and this skinny young rabbi. I guess they got him cheap. Or he’s all they could get on a Sunday or something. Lionel Hutchison told the funeral home Marianna wanted a Jewish burial and they sent this rabbi, he looked about twelve, and he was Orthodox.” Lily finished her drink. “Marianna would have hated it, and I was no good. I mean, my mother was Jewish, but she didn’t have any religion, so what do I know?”
“You did what Marianna wanted. What Lionel Hutchison said she wanted, and we know she talked to him. They were close.”
“I guess,” said Lily. “I don’t want to be buried like that, all alone. We didn’t even call her friends.”
Simonova’s address book was still in my pocket. “There wasn’t much time.”
“Lionel told me she wouldn’t want anybody there. But early this morning-you were still asleep-I decided I wanted him to go with me, that Marianna would have wanted him there. I knocked on his door, but nobody answered,” Lily said. “I thought he was asleep. I guess he was already dead. My God, how did it happen? I don’t understand.”
“This is a bad time,” I said, because I couldn’t think of anything else.
“There was one bizarre thing,” said Lily. “Carver called me.”
“Why?”
“He called and said, was I at the cemetery, and I said yes, but I couldn’t really talk, and he said, could they hold it, he wanted to come, and I said it was too late. They had already put Marianna in the ground, and he asked me to describe the scene and tell him the location of her grave, I think he was crying. Then he just hung up.” Lily pushed her hair back and fastened it in a pony tail with a rubber band. “When I went by his place a few minutes ago, to find Marie Louise, he looked wrecked. I asked what it was. He just shook his head and didn’t say anything.”
“Listen, didn’t Simonova have presents for him and his kids under the tree? She made up stockings for them, with money and chocolates, right? Maybe they were close.”
“I guess.” Lily leaned on the kitchen counter. “All the way home, I was thinking how lonely it was there, Marianna all alone. I don’t want to be like that,” she said. “Artie, tell me about Lionel.”
I told her how I’d found him lying on the ground, that I figured it for an accident at first and then thought it might be suicide. I told Lily the ME was now sure Lionel Hutchison had been pushed.
“How sure?”
“When they find the spot where he was pushed, when they match some boot prints to the person who pushed him, when there’s some decent forensic stuff, we’ll know for sure. Meanwhile, pretty sure.”
“Pushed from where?”
“The roof. I was up there. There’s a broken wall.”
Lily poured more Scotch for both of us.
“Talk to me, Artie.”
“What should I tell you?”
“Everything. Anything. Whatever it is that’s buzzing around in your cop’s brain. I mean, who would fucking kill Lionel? Who would kill a dog like that?”
“I don’t know. You want to know what’s on my mind?”
“Sure.” She drank a little more and pulled a plate of cookies across the counter. “If we’re going to drink like this, we should eat something.” She picked up a cookie, put it back. “I can’t eat.”
“How well did you know Amahl Washington?”
“Hardly at all, I told you,” she said. “Why?”
“You must have figured out where I’m going with this. Lily? Right? I’m going to work this case, if it’s OK with you,” I said.
“What about Virgil?”
“With him. It’s his case. I’ll help.”
“So it’s been decided.”
“The chief at the local house is going out of his mind. This is pretty high profile. I mean, Hutchison meant something in this community.”
“And you think whatever happened to Lionel is connected to Amahl Washington?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Artie?” She kicked off her boots. “The dog-you thought Marie Louise was involved, didn’t you, as soon as you saw it?”
“Didn’t you?”
Lily hesitated, and before she could answer, somebody knocked at the door. Lily opened it. It was Virgil.
“Celestina Hutchison is back,” said Virgil. “She’s asking for you, Artie. She says you’ll understand.”
“She knows about the dog?”
“They came, the animal forensics unit, and she wouldn’t let them take the dog. It’s in her apartment. Your phone’s ringing, Artie.”
It was a message from Gloria Lopez. I sent her a text saying I’d call soon. She sent me one back saying she’d
