A redheaded girl wearing a short black skirt and a pink halter top was coming around the corner. She spotted Ollie, smiled, came swiveling over on her spike heels, and said, “I’m Anya,” it sounded like. “Looking for a date, sweetheart?”
• • •
“IT’S DEFINITELY YOUhe’s looking for,” Aine said. “He gave me your name. Emilio Herrera. He gave me your street name, too. Emmy. He said you’re a blonde with big tits.”
“Well, Iam,” Emilio said, and laughed.
He was high on marijuana. This was unusual for a heroin addict. She almost resented him being high. In fact, shedidresent it. She was trying to give him important information here, and he was acting like a giggly little girl.
“Now that is very funny,” he said, and laughed. “A big fat cop looking to fuck a little Puerto Rican boy with faketetas.That is truly comical.”
“He wasn’t looking forsex,” Aine said. “He was looking foryou.Do you understand me? He thinks you’re involved in some kind of crime.”
“Well, Iam,” Emilio said, and laughed again. “Did he say which crime? Did he say possession, did he say burglary, did he say grand theft, auto, did he say prostitution? I am involved in a greatmanycrimes, Aine. The man should have been more specific.”
“Well, he wasn’t. He was on a fishing expedition, is what it was.”
“But you got the feeling he thought I was involved in some crime or another.”
“Yes, that’s the impression I got.”
“He told you he was looking for me…”
“Yes.”
“…because I was involved in some crime or…”
“No.”
“He didnotsay I was involved in some…?”
“No, he didn’t come out and say that. But it’s what I discerned.”
He loved it when she used big words. He found it very amusing when she used big words. He wondered what crime he was supposed to be involved in. What did this fat cop want from him? Did he evenknowany fat cops?
“Afatcop, did you say?”
“Ohman,fat,” Aine said, and rolled her eyes.
“Did he tell you his name?”
“Detective Weeks.”
“From what precinct?”
“The Eight-Eight.”
“I’ll bet he thinks I’m involved in that diamond deal.”
“What diamond deal?”
“In Livvie’s report.”
“Who the fuck is Livvie?”
“The report she wrote.”
“Oh,thatagain,” Aine said.
“I’ll bet he’s after all those blood diamonds Livvie is locked up with in that basement,” Emilio said, and suddenly looked very sober, though he wasn’t. “Do you think it was her?” he asked. “Do you think she got out of that basement somehow? Do you think she might be somehow involved in the big dope deal going down? Though I have to say I didn’t see no dope down there, did you see any dope down there?”
“You know I didn’t.”
“Are you sure you heard the address right? 3211 Culver?”
“I’m sure I heard what I heard,” Aine said.
“Maybe we should check out that bar you located,” Emilio said.
“What do you think, Aine?”
“You got any more of that grass?” Aine said.
14
THE MINUTE OLLIEwalked through the door of his apartment, the phone started ringing. He ran across the room, and was breathless when he picked up the receiver. Fats Donner was on the other end.
“I found your opera singer,” he said. “Where can we meet?”
Ollie named a pizzeria on Culver and Sixth; what the hell, he thought, kill two birds with one stone.
“And don’t bring your kindergarten class,” he said.
“I’ll pretend I don’t understand that,” Donner said, and hung up.
Ollie grabbed a bite from the fridge before heading out.
IF DONNER WASremembering correctly, this was the same pizzeria where two hitters shot and killed Danny Gimp not too very long ago. This made him uneasy. He dimly recalled that the killing had had nothing at all to do with the profession he and Danny shared, but it still made him nervous to be sitting here in a public place with a cop as conspicuously large as Ollie, especially since he himself was not all that invisible. Such a pair could easily attract attention, he figured, and wished he’d asked Ollie to meet him at The Samuel Baths again.
“So who is she?” Ollie asked.
“How’d you make out with Herrera?”
“So far, he ain’t worth the deuce I paid you, and I ain’t all over him like fleas, either.”
“Maybe you’re not such a good detective, dad.”
“Maybe I am. Maybe it’s your information that stinks.”
“Then maybe you don’t want to know who this opera singer is.”
“Maybe you’d like to give me her name free of charge, considering the Emilio Herrera stuff wasn’t worth shit.”
“He’s out there, all you have to do is find him. Do you want this on the opera singer, or do I walk?”
“Let’s have a pizza,” Ollie said.
They ordered two pizzas, not for nothing were they men of considerable girth. Ollie ordered another one, which they split. Donner was thinking Ollie would try again for a free ride here. He was right.
“So tell me her name,” Ollie said.
“I’ll need a hundred.”
“I already gave you two.”
“This is fresh information.”
“Like the last information was fresh, huh? Who has no record in the files and who I still can’t find on the street.”
“Maybe you’re looking on the wrong street.”
“Tell me why I should trust this new stuff?”
“Sure, dad. Number one, sheisan opera singer. Number two…”
“Shewhat?”
“She’s an opera singer. In fact, she’s currently doing a recital at Clarendon Hall. Are you familiar with Clarendon Hall?”
“Where the terrorists hit around New Year’s?”
“The very.”
“She’s singing there?”
“Right now.”
“Thanks,” Ollie said. “Then I won’t need her name.”
