Bennie smiled, remembering that one of the reasons she liked Emil was that he was the only person more hyper than she. One day she'd introduce him to Bean and they'd kill each other. 'Darning may have worked for L and I or Fleets. Maybe the Parking Authority.'
'Very specific.'
'Work with me, Emil.'
'Is this about those murders?'
'Yes.'
'Fine.' Emil's gray head, with its puffy side part, snapped to his computer. He hit a few keys and pressed ENTER. 'Eb Darning, you say his name is. Eb is a name?'
'Yes.'
Emil frowned at the screen. One neat wrinkle creased his forehead deeply, as if even his brow had been starched. 'What kind of a name is that?'
'Not Armenian. He was black and a youngish man at the time. He might have had a daughter. He definitely had a drinking problem.'
'In City Hall, it's a job qualification,' Emil muttered as he focused on the screen. 'These old 286 machines annoy me. They take too long. Here.'
'What?' Bennie scooted her chair closer. On the computer screen was a list of names.
'Here are the L and I employees for 1960. No Darning is there.'
'Let's try 1961.'
Emil hit a key and drummed his fingers while the computer cranked away. 'Why aren't you married, Bennie? You should be married.'
'I'm dating a very nice man, who's unfortunately out of town.'
'Dating isn't married.' Emil frowned at the monitor. 'I have someone I want you to meet.'
'No. Your last fixup was a disaster.'
'This one likes women who work.'
'How enlightened.'
'An Armenian, of course. A member of my church. His wife died and he wants to remarry.'
'Forget it.'
'Bennie,' Emil said, his eyes focused. 'I want to see you happy. I hope you will find a husband.'
'I don't need a husband. I need Eb Darning.'
Another list finally materialized on the flat matte monitor. Names in faint green letters floated in an inky background. Emil's sharp eyes ran down the list. 'No Darning.' He hit another key. 'I'll try the next year.'
'Thanks.' Bennie struggled to keep up with Emil as he read. 'Darning might have been a building inspector.'
'Not here,' Emil barked before he was off to the next list. He and Bennie checked employee lists for all the City Hall departments for the past thirty-odd years, but Eb Darning's name didn't appear on any of them. Then they checked variations on Eb Darning's name, including Heb Darnton, for the same time period. No variations appeared either. Confused, Bennie produced Eb's clean-shaven photo and showed it to Emil.
'Never saw the man,' he said, handing it back.
Bennie returned it to her jeans pocket. She didn't tell Emil that Darning was the same man Elliott Steere had killed, for the same reason she hadn't told Bean. He didn't need to know it to help her. 'Emil, I know Darning worked here and he might have gotten paid in cash. How is that possible?'
Emil smiled tightly. 'I was afraid of this. Perhaps he was a party employee, not an employee of the city.'
'So?'
'So he worked for the party. He performed jobs for the party. City Hall was a different place then. You know that. You're a hometown girl.'
'So you're saying that Darning wouldn't show up in the employee lists. He was invisible, at least officially.'
'Yes.'
'Nobody would know him, and if they did, they wouldn't say.'
'Yes. He may have been paid for odd jobs. For influence. Even for vote-getting. Does that jibe with your information?'
'Yes,' Bennie said. Her thoughts hurried ahead. What was it that Carrier had let slip? 'Like 'street money'?'
Emil nodded. 'Payment for votes. It was commonplace then. Now, not so. Or so I choose to believe.'
Bennie eased back in the chair and tried to process the information. So Eb Darning was a drunk on the party payroll, who was paid street money by someone for votes. Was Steere the someone? He had to be. Why else would Steere kill him? Steere hated the mayor because the city wasn't ponying up for his properties. Maybe Steere had paid Darning to fix votes against the mayor in the last election, and Darning had decided not to keep quiet about it any longer, so Steere killed him. Steere wouldn't take the risk otherwise, especially a personal risk.
It made perfect sense, and Bennie had been around enough official corruption to know it followed the same
