“Yeah, you read me alright. You know, I seen your brother the other night? Joe Daley. ’Nother dumb-fuck paddy-mick pig, that one. Joe Daley. You know how deep a hole that dumb-fuck brother of yours is in? Kind of hole you don’t climb out of.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means your dumb-fuck brother’s not as good at betting as you are at stealing-excuse me, burglaring. He’s in the kind of hole you get buried in. He’s another smart-mouth prick. How many of you fuckin’ Daleys are there, anyway?”
“Two.”
“Gonna be none before this is over.”
Ricky smiled wanly.
“Maybe you’ll wind up in the same hole, the two o’ yuz.”
The good news, Ricky thought, was that Gargano apparently did not intend to kill him then and there. Too much talking. Situation like this, you look at the bright side.
“You hear anything about those stones, you let me know, you got me?”
“How do I find you?”
“Ask your brother, Lucky Joe.”
“How’s he going to find you?”
“He don’t have to find me. I’m gonna find him. Believe me.”
Across Massachusetts Avenue, Amy watched the two men. She was not spying, she would have explained. She was reporting. If Ricky was in trouble, then she ought to know about it. She would have given her eyeteeth to hear what the men were saying. But even from this distance she could tell Ricky was in trouble. It was not so much that Gargano was doing anything overtly threatening, though he stabbed his finger toward Ricky several times. Nor did she recognize Gargano. Amy knew of Vinnie The Animal’s reputation but had never seen him. It was Ricky. The way he submitted to the scolding. The way he slouched, the way he avoided the other man’s eyes, the way he fussed with his cigarette. To be honest, Amy was not sure why everyone thought Ricky Daley was such a smooth character. She, at least, could always tell when he was lying.
20
Kat, in her slip and bra, rummaged in a jewelry box, lazily at first, then frantically. “Where is it?” she wondered aloud.
Joe lay on the bed with his eyes closed. He snuffled. His hands shifted. He clasped them over his belly, but that left his arms stretched, his elbows raised off the bed, so he allowed his joined hands to slide down the dome of his belly to the sternum. He sniffed again, peacefully.
“Joe, where is it?”
“Where is what?”
“The money. The cash that was in my jewelry box.”
“It’s wherever you left it.”
“I left it in the jewelry box, Joe. Where I always leave it.”
Joe made a show of rousing himself, with much emotive groaning and eye-rubbing.
“Joe?”
“I borrowed some. I needed some walking-around money. So shoot me.”
“Some? There’s nothing here.”
“I needed cash.”
“And where is it?”
“I spent it.”
“On what?”
“On I don’t know. I just spent it.”
“Joe, no!”
“It’s my money. I earned it.”
“You gambled it.”
“No.”
“You gambled it!”
“It’s my money! I can do what I want with it!”
“Joe, are you stupid? Do you know what that money was? Do you know what it was for?”
“I’m not stupid.”
“It was for groceries, Joe. Did you think I was just keeping it for nothing? For myself? Now what do I do?”
“I’m not stupid.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“I’ll go to the bank, in the morning.”
“And do what, Joe? Rob it?”
He looked down at the blanket, burrowed his eyes into the mazy chenille pattern.
“We have no money, Joe!”
“I didn’t…”
“Jesus, Joe, did you hear me? We have no money.” She covered her face with both hands. “We have no money, we have no money.”
“I’ll fix it.”
“How, Joe?”
“I’ll take some details.”
“You’re already off working-or whatever-twenty-four hours a day. When are you gonna work details? Tell me how you’re going to fix it, Joe. Where’s the money going to come from? A tree? We needed that money. For Christ’s sake, Joe. We needed it.”
“I’ll figure something out.”
“You’ll figure something out.” Kat’s mouth contorted as the urge to cry began to get the better of her. She raised her hand to her eye, like a botched salute, and she held it there, fighting to hold herself together. “You can’t keep doing this to us, Joe. You just can’t.”
“Kat, come on. So we’re not rich. You knew that when you married me. I’m a cop.”
“Oh, please, don’t. Just don’t. I don’t see other cops starving.”
“I don’t see them getting rich either.”
“Why do you do this, Joe? Don’t you care? Is that it? You don’t care about us?”
“No.”
“Then why? I mean, what’s going to happen here, Joe? What’s next? Just tell me so I know what to expect. Are you going to start selling off the house? Am I going to come home one day and find the TV is gone? How about my ring? You want my ring? Sell it to some pawnshop for a few bucks so you can give it away to your bookie? You know what? I’m going to start sleeping in this ring, I’m not gonna take it off. I’m not gonna give you the chance. What’s wrong with you, Joe? Jesus. You have a family. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me. I told you, I’ll fix it.”
“Do you know you have a son?”
“Yes, I know I have a-”
“Little Joe’s grandfather’s still warm in the grave, and what are you doing? You’re supposed to be a father, and what do you do? You disappear. You go off and you only come back long enough to steal from us, then you’re off again. What are you thinking, Joe? You’re stealing from us.”
“I’m not. You’re making a big deal. We’re just a little short of cash. It happens.”
“A little short of cash. A little short of cash. Well, at least you haven’t lost your sense of humor. We’re a little short of cash, Joe, that’s true.”
“I’ll come up with something.”
Kat sat down the edge of the bed.
