There was a canvas mail sack on the table where the coffee machine stood.
'Look in the bag,' Banks said.
The bag was full of Baggies and the Baggies, neatly tied with green twistems, contained something that looked like heroin. It also looked like milk sugar but most people didn't bag and transport milk sugar.
'The stuff that dreams are made of,' I said.
'They had it,' Banks said. 'They had that stuff with them.'
'That's not legal,' I said.
Banks jabbed the gun toward Winston. 'Tell him what you're doing,' Banks said.
'You're sick,' Winston said. 'You're sick with jealousy.'
Winston looked at me. 'Yes, Sherry and I love each other. And I'm sorry that this man has to be hurt. But love does what it will. You know that, Spenser.'
'Bullshit,' Banks said. His voice hissed out, scraping over his pain. 'She doesn't love you. Get her away from you and she'll recover. You're the one that's sick and you made her sick.'
Sherry stood very still. Her eyes were wide and her face very small at the motionless center of the storm.
Winston shook his head. He seemed sad. 'Tommy,' he said. 'You can't do this. You can't plant this dope or whatever it is on us and hold us prisoner and try to claim we're guilty of something.'
Banks put the gun to Sherry's head, pressing the muzzle against her temple. 'Truth,' he hissed. 'Tell him the truth or I'll kill her.'
Winston looked even sadder. 'Tommy,' he said. 'Tommy, don't.'
Banks pressed the gun harder against Sherry's temple. She winced.
'Tommy,' she said. Her voice was frightened. I eased my hand up toward my jacket pocket.
'Tell him.' Tommy's voice was barely human.
'It's the truth,' Winston said. 'So help me God, I have told the truth.'
Banks thumbed the hammer back, I put my hand into my jacket pocket.
'He's lying,' Sherry said, and her voice was a soft scream. 'He made me help him. He has been dealing drugs for years.'
'Paultz worked for him,' I said.
'Yes. And when you forced him out, he made me work with him. He drugged me, he . . . he has power.'
'You vicious little lying bitch,' Winston said. There was something that looked like genuine horror in his face. Banks turned the gun toward him. 'She's lying,' Winston said. 'She's lying. Yes, all right, I helped her. Yes, we were running heroin. But she was the one. It was her operation. I fronted for her.'
Sherry said, 'Kill him, Tommy, don't let him say those things. He's made me do awful things. Kill him, kill both of them and we'll go away.'
I said, 'Tommy.'
Winston said, 'See, she'll use anyone.' His voice was up three octaves, it seemed, and it squeaked with terror and rage and franticness. 'Don't let her use you. Don't do it for her, Banks. She's . . .' He groped for words. 'She's satanic. She's . . .'
Banks shot him. Twice. It was a mistake. He should have shot me first. Sherry wrenched away from him and my bullet hit Tommy in the middle of the chest, and he fell over on his back and lay perfectly still. Winston was on the floor too. He had lurched back against the mirrors and left a long smear of blood on the mirrors as he slid to the floor. Both men were dead. You see enough of it, you know. I put my gun back into my jacket pocket. Sherry went to her knees beside Banks and as I walked toward her she picked up his gun and aimed it at me, holding it in both hands. Her face was puckered and intense. Like a schoolchild doing math.
I said, 'Sherry. It's okay. It's over.'
'Yes, it is, you motherfucker,' she said. Her face still concentrated. 'For you it's over.'
'Winston was right,' I said.
'I'm right,' she said. 'I'm the only one that knows.'
'You wanted me to look for Tommy so you'd know what he was up to.'
She smiled at me without losing her intensity.
'You simple tool,' she said. 'I've used you for anything I wanted to use you for and now I'm going to kill you and take all my money and go away.'
'You killed Mickey,' I said.
'Of course.'
I began to walk toward her.
'Stay,' she said.
I kept coming.
'I'm going to kill you,' she said.
'So what,' I said.
