'That's what she said.'
'Okay. So what do you want from me?'
He shrugged. 'Advice. What do you think I should do?'
'Tell Chief Hallock.'
'Are you crazy?'
'That's my advice. Tell him before he tells you. If you're innocent, you have nothing to worry about.'
'I'm innocent. But what if it gets out? I mean, I'm telling you this off the record, but I can't keep Hallock from spreading the word. I've got a wife and three kids.'
'And you're a member of the board.' Colin knew which was more important to Phil Nagle.
'Yeah, that, too.'
'You don't have a choice. You have to tell Hallock. If you're innocent, he won't spread it around about you. He's not like that.'
'Listen, you've only been in town what, five, six weeks? You don't know what shits people can be.'
'Why'd you come to me if there's so much I don't know?'
'I'm beginning to wonder myself. I thought you looked like a decent guy.'
When you start getting compliments from a sleaze ball, Colin thought, it's time to worry.
'What are you going to do with what I told you?' Nagle said.
'Nothing. I don't have to. The connections will be made soon enough. Then you'll really look suspicious, Nagle. Can you prove you didn't kill her?'
'Of course not. I thought I was innocent until proven guilty.'
'Where'd you hear that?' Colin stubbed out his cigarette, lit another. 'And if I remember correctly, you're not exactly a Gildersleeve fan, are you?'
'He's an asshole.'
'That's what I mean. If you keep this information to yourself, when they finally get onto you it's going to be more than putting two and two together. More like two and three. Do you think Hallock doesn't know how you feel about Gildersleeve?'
'Fuck. I don't know.'
'Well, what did you think I'd tell you to do?'
'I don't know. I guess I thought you'd say I had nothing to worry about. I don't know.' He took off his glasses, wiped them with the bottom of his shirt.
'Hallock might give you a hard time for awhile, until he's sure you didn't do it, but he's not going to book you. On the other hand, if you don't go to him on your own, if you wait until he has to pick you up, then he's going to make you wish you'd been in that pool instead of Gloria. Me, too.'
'What's that mean?'
'It means if he arrests you on his own, then you're fair game.'
'Shit.'
'Up to your neck.'
Nagle put back his glasses. 'Okay. I'll do it.'
'Good.'
'See you,' he said and started to leave.
'Hey, Nagle?'
'Yeah?'
'What do you feel about Gloria Danowski being murdered?'
'Feel?'
'Right, feel.'
'I don't know. I feel bad, I guess. She was a good lay.'
Colin was glad Nagle left quickly; he wanted to clobber him.
He had always hated fighting, even though he was pretty good at it. The first real fistfight he'd had was in grade school when the public school kids picked on the Catholics. He'd knocked Freddy Martin's two front teeth out, and Colin's father had had to pay for Freddy's bridge. In junior high he was always getting into fights, but in high school he managed to stay clear of them, using up his aggression on the football field. In college he never fought anyone. He talked his way out of things because he just didn't have the heart for fighting. By then he knew it was pointless. After college it never came up-except that once-but he couldn't remember it and didn't even know if he'd won or not.
Still, guys like Nagle made him remember and understand the pleasure of smashing a fist into a face, feeling knuckles against teeth, splitting lips open. He hoped Hallock gave Nagle a bad time, hoped he scared the shit out of him.
Colin smiled thinking about Nagle: knees knocking together, hands too shaky to hold a butt. He deserved anything he got. But he believed Nagle was innocent. So, who did it then? The husband could've found out about his wife's affair and killed her, but it wasn't likely. With that kind of murder, he would've broken down by now if he'd done it. Nobody knew that better than Colin did. Jesus. Everything always came back to that. He turned to his typewriter, stared at the piece of paper still there from the night before.
BODY FOUND IN MAYOR'S POOL
It hadn't changed, hadn't written itself. And it wasn't going to get written now, either. He reached for the bound volume of the Gazette seventy-five years before for the week of May 26th. One of his duties was to do the 'Looking Back' column. At first when Mark gave him the job, he was insulted, feeling this was some rinky-dink thing one of the others could do, not the managing editor, for Christ's sake. But that was the way it was on a small weekly: You did all kinds of stuff no matter what your title was. Anyway, he'd come to like it, found it fun going through the old issues, pulling things from seventy-five, fifty, and twenty-five years before. Sometimes he lost himself in the papers, hours passing before he'd pull just the right excerpts. Colin knew it was something you could do in half an hour, but he liked reading all the ads, the sports and the real estate section. It knocked him out seeing things like:
FOR SALE:
WATERVIEW-10 RMS, FIREPLACE,ICEBOX,
PORCH, 1 ACRE, PRIVATE BEACH $3000
Today that same property would be worth about half a million.
So he got lost in the past, and when the phone rang and he glanced at his watch he was stunned to see it was almost three. Mark said, 'We have another one, pal.'
'Another what?'
'Murder.'
'Where?'
'Bay View. Cooper's Linen Shop. Ruth Cooper.'
'Christ.'
'Get over there.'
'Right.'
Getting into his car, Colin wondered what he'd do if any murders happened past Riverhead. He wasn't sure he'd be able to go. The truth was even Riverhead was alien to him. Since he'd been on the North Fork he hadn't gone past Mattituck. That was twenty miles from Seaville. Riverhead was twenty-five, and his panic attacks weren't getting any better. But it was useless to worry about that now. Now there was another murder.
Starting the car, he wondered if a B was carved into Ruth Cooper's chest.
