Inside, Butch was crouched on the floor, next to a foam mattress stained with blood. In the corner of the room cowered Lisa. Her face was in her hands. On the mattress, cross-legged with his back against the wall, was Jules. He had on the same T-shirt as I’d last seen him in. Still streaked with blood.
I took a closer look. Not streaked. Soaked. Wet with it. A long curved knife lay loosely in his hand. Butch was carefully examining Jules’s torso.
Entrails.
Shit. The little prick had finally done it. Disemboweled himself. Hara-kiri.
I could only hope he’d landed in samurai heaven.
I looked at Lisa. I looked at Dorita.
Get her out of here, I whispered.
Yes, boss, said Dorita.
She went to Lisa. Put her arms around her. She whispered something in her ear. She lifted up the tiny girl. She led her out.
Butch looked up at me. I nodded.
Sure. Call in the troops. What the hell. I didn’t have a client anymore.
We had some time with Lisa before they got there. She was shaking, sobbing, but not out of control. She was a tough little thing, after all was said and done.
Dorita took her downstairs. I poured us all a drink. Fuck regulations. I wasn’t a cop. Gin and tonic for Lisa. A double Scotch for me. Dorita had to settle for a gin and tonic too. I didn’t know how to make a cosmo. Not the time to ask for the recipe.
I brought Butch a beer. He shook his head no thanks. Oh yeah. He was a cop.
Dorita sat with Lisa on the couch. She had her arm around her shoulder.
Lisa, Dorita said quietly. We need to know what happened.
I know, said Lisa, barely audible.
We know it wasn’t you, Dorita said. We know you did whatever you did out of love. We can see that.
Dorita looked up at me reprovingly. Lest I have a different notion. Lest I interfere.
Lisa closed her eyes.
I just want to go to sleep, she said.
I know, said Dorita. I understand. And you can. You can go to sleep. But first you have to tell us. Tell us what happened.
Lisa opened her eyes. She looked at Dorita. Dorita looked into Lisa’s eyes. Lisa slumped back into the sofa. The sharp edges softened into resignation. She nodded her head.
Veronica, she whispered.
Dorita and I looked at each other. There it was again.
What about Veronica? Dorita asked.
Lisa took a deep breath. She straightened her back. She looked at us.
Veronica’s dead, she said.
Okay, said Dorita softly. How did she die?
I killed her, said Lisa.
My poker face broke down.
I didn’t have an index card for this.
Lisa looked at me, at Butch. She shrugged.
I didn’t mean to, she said.
I’m sure you didn’t, said Dorita. Can you tell us how it happened?
That day you came over, said Lisa, looking at me. She was tied up in the back room.
The words caught in her throat.
The room we just found you in? asked Dorita.
Jules and me were fighting.
That time, I said.
Right, she said. And then, just after I went upstairs, Veronica got the gag out of her mouth. She started shouting.
That’s why you put on the music, started yelling at Jules? I asked. To drown out her shouting?
Yes, she said quietly.
Jesus. Veronica had been right there. In the loft. And I hadn’t even thought about her. Thought about finding her. Talking to her.
Cancel my job interview with the CIA.
And then what happened? asked Dorita.
She put her hand on Lisa’s, gave it a reassuring squeeze.
I went into the back room, said Lisa. I was scared. I was so scared.
She sobbed a sob or two.
She pulled herself together. She took a deep breath.
I got the duct tape, she said. That we’d taped her to the chair with. And I wrapped it around her face. To stop her screaming. And when I’d wrapped her up I went into the other room. I lay down. I put a pillow over my head. I couldn’t stand it any more. I was trying to protect Jules. I was just trying to protect Jules.
We could hear the sirens coming.
She struggled to contain the tears. She took a deep breath. She looked at me apologetically.
What was the argument about? I asked.
About Veronica, she said. I told Jules we had to let her go. It was so stupid. The whole thing was so stupid. But he wouldn’t do it. I told him we could go to Mexico. Wherever. Just get away. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He wanted to…
Wanted to? asked Dorita.
Get revenge.
Against whom?
His father. Mr. FitzGibbon. God, he hated his dad so much. It was like, it was like a sickness. Like he was crazy with it.
And how was he going to get revenge? By killing Veronica?
Sort of, she said.
A crowd of blue shirts appeared in the doorway. They were led by a tall detective with a hawk nose and tiny black eyes. I thought I recognized him. From some hooker bust a few years ago. I’d been hired to help out some john with connections to a senator.
Butch leapt up to intercept the horde. Lisa looked up. No reaction registered on her face. She was beyond reaction.
Butch conferred with Detective Nose in a hushed and urgent voice. The Nose kept glancing up at Dorita and me. I saw him note our shoeless feet, raise an eyebrow.
It was clear what was going on. Butch was trying to explain that we were getting a full confession. Learning everything. And any little upset of the balance might tip Lisa over. Into silence.
Dorita was whispering into Lisa’s ear. She was crying again.
Butch won the argument. A couple of uniforms with evidence kits quietly went upstairs. The rest backed off. Including the Nose, though not without a baleful glance in my direction. Butch closed the door and sat back down across from me.
Dorita was still talking quietly to Lisa. I couldn’t hear what she was saying. Butch put ten fingers up, then five. Fifteen minutes. Detective Nose was giving us fifteen minutes.
Dorita, I said, as softly as I could manage.
She looked up impatiently.
Fifteen, I whispered.
She nodded.
How was he going to get revenge? Dorita asked, getting Lisa back on track.
I don’t know the whole thing, said Lisa. But they were going to get control of everything, somehow.
Get control? asked Dorita.
