'I guess.'
'What was he doing in Boston?'
'Hey, man, you think he calls me up, tells me what he's doing?'
'There were a couple of other women there when Emily was shot,' I said. 'Any idea who they were?'
'No, man.'
'You know any of her friends?'
'Sure. I knew a lot of them.'
'What were their names.'
'Names? All of them?'
'Yeah.'
'Been a long time,' he said.
'Give me any you can remember.'
'I. ' he spread his hands. 'My head's a little scrambled. Bunny.'
'Bunny who?'
'Ah Bunny. Bunny Lawrence, Lombard. Lombard, Bunny Lombard.'
'Excellent, Barry. Gimme another one.'
We did this for maybe half an hour, during which time I coaxed three other names from him. I wrote them down. He didn't know where any of them were anymore.
'They were just around, you know, in the movement,' he said.
'Okay,' I said. 'And when Emily was killed, you had sole custody of Daryl.'
'Yeah. That's when I got us this house.'
'You bought this place after your wife died.'
'Yeah. Emmy's parents bought her a little insurance policy when she was born. Typical.'
'Typical of what?' I said.
'Middle-class mentality,' Barry said. 'Have a baby, buy it insurance.'
'And you were the beneficiary?'
'No. Emmy changed it to Daryl. But I was her father, so I used the money to buy her this house.'
'Which she still owns?'
'Hey, I been paying the mortgage for twenty-eight years.'
'World's best dad,' I said. 'How long was Daryl with you.'
'She took off when she was eighteen.'
'You mean she ran away.'
'Whatever. We wasn't mad at each other or anything. She just wanted to be on her own.'
'You stay in touch?'
'She wrote me sometimes.'
I decided not to ask if he wrote her back. Barry started to roll another joint. On his big, cedar-shaving dog cushion, the Lab made some lip-smacking noises in his sleep. He was probably half snookered on secondhand smoke.
'Is there anything else you can think of,' I said, 'that might help me find who killed your wife.' Barry got his cigarette burning. 'Not a thing, man.'
'Ever hear of a guy named Abner Fancy?'
'Abner Fancy, hell no, man. I wouldn't forget a name like Abner Fancy. Goddamn.'
'Ever hear of a group called the Dread Scott Brigade?'
'Wow,' he said, 'a blast from the past. The Dread Scott Brigade. Yeah, I think so. I think Emmy had some friends was in Dread Scott. Emmy hung out with a lot of blacks.'
'Coyote a member?' I said.
Barry shrugged. He was getting tired.
'Coulda been. I don't know. Mostly I did my music, smoked a little dope.' He smiled modestly. 'Scored a few ladies myself, you know?'
'Way to go,' I said.
I gave him my card. He looked at it.
'Anything occurs to you,' I said, 'get in touch.'
