Bingo, said Butch.
Oho, Monsieur Descartes, said Dorita. If you keep this up, I might even start respecting your intellect.
You keep threatening.
All right, children, said Butch, let’s go grab the little bitch.
I prefer to think of her as misguided, said Dorita.
Whatever, I said. Let’s grab her.
By force? asked Dorita.
Why do you think Butch is on the team? I asked.
Wait a minute… said Butch.
Just kidding, I said.
But we do have to get her away from Jules again, said Dorita. And persuasion isn’t going to work this time.
Let’s figure that out when we get there, said Butch.
I couldn’t agree more, I said. But first, I think I’ll finish this tall skinny latte.
Butch and Dorita got up.
Okay, I said. Just kidding. Let’s go.
108.
The cab smelled heavily of spilled beer and ashes.
I had another thought.
Butch, I said. The note. Did you find out anything about the note?
Jesus, he said. I totally forgot.
You’re kidding.
No, I’m not. Christ, man, you were badgering me so bad I couldn’t think straight. I’m turning into you.
Okay, I’ll take that as a compliment. What did you find out?
I couldn’t get a look at it. I’m not officially on the case. It’s locked up. They’re guarding it like Bush’s IQ scores.
Sure, I said. I get that. But what did you find out?
I talked to some guys.
And?
It wasn’t a handwritten note. It was an e-mail.
We knew that. To who?
To whom, said Dorita.
To whom?
To his wife.
Veronica? Dorita and I said in unison.
Jesus, said Dorita. Get out an index card.
I already had one in my hand.
Whoa, I said. This is a blockbuster.
Might just blow us out of the water, said Dorita.
All right, said Butch. It’s time to let old Butch in on the fun.
I had forgotten, in all of the excitement, that we hadn’t shared with Butch everything we knew. We explained the Veronica angle.
Butch whistled. Perhaps in admiration. Perhaps not.
Listen, I said, this is definitely weird. But let’s put it in context. All it really adds to what we know is that FitzGibbon thought that Veronica was still alive.
Pretty feeble, said Dorita. We’ve got to think this through.
The cab pulled up at Jules’s building.
Sure, I said. I’m with you. But right now, we’re here.
Shit, said Dorita. Shouldn’t we hold off on this?
Forget it, I said. Damn the damn torpedoes. If we can get Lisa to talk, the rest won’t matter.
I don’t know, said Dorita.
Let’s do it, said Butch.
A man of action, I said. I admire that. Dorita, you’re outvoted.
She wasn’t happy, but she went along.
We rang the bell.
No answer.
We rang again.
No answer.
I looked at Butch.
Aren’t you a cop? I asked.
Sure, Rick. I’m a cop.
Then can’t you just bust down this door? Isn’t that what cops do?
Hate to break it to you. But no. Not without a warrant.
Jesus. Why does the law always have to interfere with our fun?
Damn, we were having a good time. I was thinking of asking Butch to join the partnership. R. amp; D. amp; B., LLP. It had a ring.
Speaking of which, the door buzzed. I threw myself at it, pulled it open just before the buzzing stopped.
We made our way upstairs. The door to Jules’s loft was open. We peered in. We didn’t see anybody. I called out Jules’s name. Lisa’s. No answer. I looked at Butch. I was nervous. Maybe it was time to call in the troops.
Butch went into trained cop mode.
He pulled a gun I hadn’t known he carried.
Of course he has a gun, I thought. He’s a goddamn cop.
He crouched. He slid into the room. He checked behind the door. He silently reconnoitered the downstairs area. It didn’t take long. Nobody there. No perps. No bodies. No nothing. Not even a mouse. He looked at the balcony above. He looked at me and raised a questioning eyebrow. Where’s the staircase? he was asking. I pointed to the corridor across the way. Butch slid across the room. He vanished. Dorita and I exchanged worried glances. My heart was pounding. Uncertainty was worse than death. If they shot you, you were gone. Nothing more to worry about. If you had no clue, all you could do was cringe.
Butch wasn’t cringing. Neither was Dorita. She took off her black Blahnik pumps, set them lightly on the floor. She slid off after Butch. I tried to grab her arm, hold her back. She shook me off. She vanished too.
I felt like a coward.
Hell, I was a coward. Better get used to it.
I was guarding the entrance, I told myself. I was taking on the dangerous job.
I closed the door as quietly as I could. I stood guard.
I waited. I lit a cigarette. I didn’t hear a thing. The fear became certainty. I ought to call the cops. I didn’t have the skills for this.
Dorita appeared on the balcony. That she was standing up, not hunched over in danger mode, conveyed a message. She motioned me to come up.
I took off my shoes. That seemed to be the protocol. I crossed the empty space. It seemed interminable. I found the stairs. A wrought iron spiral thing, tucked out of view. I climbed it slowly. I thought my heart would burst. At the top, I found Dorita. She shook her head at me.
You wimp, she whispered. Come here.
She grabbed the back of my neck. She kissed me.
The unexpected kiss is the best.
She led me down a corridor. She stopped at an open door. She nodded me in.
