'Why did you ask her that?'
'I heard she did know him,' I said.
'Who you hear that from?'
'A person who should know,' I said.
'Who?'
I shook my head. 'It was in confidence.'
Esteva looked at the guy with the hat. 'Maybe Cesar can change your mind.'
'Maybe Cesar can't,' I said. Cesar never moved. His eyes didn't shift. For all I could tell he hadn't heard us.
'Don't be foolish, Spenser. You think you are tough, and some people I know say maybe you are. But Cesar . . .' Esteva shook his head. Cesar remained silent.
'You ain't as tough as Cesar,' the guy in the Celtics jacket said. He smiled when he said it and I saw that his upper front teeth were missing.
'Sure,' I said.
We sat some more.
'I don't like you talking to my wife,' Esteva said.
'Don't blame you, but it seemed a good idea at the time.'
'You think she got something to do with Valdez?'
'Maybe,' I said. 'I was told that Valdez had had an affair with the wife of a Colombian and that he'd been killed by the husband.'
Esteva stared at me. Then he said something in Spanish and his two pals got up and went to the bar and sat on stools out of earshot.
'I maybe kill you for saying that,' Esteva said.
'Sure,' I said. 'Or you'll kill me for thinking you were Ricardo Montalban, or because you want to prove how tough Cesar is. I understand that possibility. But let's not waste time here with it. You saying you're going to kill me doesn't scare me. Probably it should. But it doesn't. And every time you say it, I got to think up a smart answer to prove that it doesn't scare me. It uses up all our energy and we've got more important stuff to talk about.'
Esteva took out a long thin black cigar like Gilbert Roland used to smoke in the movies and lit it and got it drawing and inhaled and exhaled and gazed for a moment at the glowing tip. Then he looked at me and nodded. 'That is true,' he said.
He took in some more cigar smoke and let it out in a narrow stream.
'You think my wife had an affair with Eric Valdez?' he said.
'I don't know,' I said.
'You think I killed him?'
'I don't know.'
He was silent.
'That's why I asked,' I said.
'You think maybe she's mad at me for killing him, she tell you about it.'
'It happens,' I said.
'Emmy don't have an affair with nobody,' he said. 'If she did I would kill him, sure. Maybe her too. But she don't. She love me, Spenser, and she respect me. You understand that?'
'Yeah,' I said.
'You have other questions?' he said.
'Valdez's boss thinks he was killed to keep the lid on the cocaine trade here.'
'That a question?' Esteva said.
'Yes,' I said.
'What cocaine business,' Esteva said. He put the cigar in the corner of his mouth and inhaled and exhaled without removing it.
'I was asking you,' I said.
'I don't know nothing about cocaine,' he said.
'You're in the produce business?' I said.
'Yes.'
'And those two guys walk around with you in case a tough greengrocer tries to put the arm on you.'
'I'm rich,' Esteva said. 'Lot of Anglos don't like a rich Colombian.'
'How about the chief's son? How come he works for you?'
Esteva shrugged elaborately. 'Don't do harm to do favors for the chief. Good business.'
