'No.'
'Delivered it on the morning of January
twenty-first, didn't you?'
'No.'
'Miss Stetson says you did.'
'I don't know who Miss Stetson is.'
'She's Svetlana Dyalovich's granddaughter.'
'I don't know either of them.'
'Locker number one thirty-six. Do you remember that?'
'No, I don't.'
'Where'd you get that key?'
'I don't know what key you're talking about.'
'Did Svetlana Dyalovich give you that key?' 'Nobody gave me a key.'
'Did Svedana Dyalovich ever come to your stall at the Lincoln Street Fish Market to purchase fish for her cat?'
'No.'
'Early in the morning, this would have been.'
'No.'
'Every morning.'
'No. I don't know this woman.'
'Ever go to her apartment?'
'How would I? I don't know her. I don't know where she lives.'
'Her neighbor down the hall told the granddaughter you went there to deliver fish one morning.'
'I don't know her or her neighbor. Or the granddaughter, either.'
'Then you never went to 1217 Lincoln Street,
apartment 3A, is that right?'
'Never.'
'Mr. Schiavinato, I show you this weapon tagged as evidence and ask if you've ever seen it before.' 'Never.'
'Didn't you buy this pistol from a man named Jose Santiago...'
'No.'
'On the night before...'
'No.'
'... Svetlana Dyalovich was murdered?' 'No.'
'Didn't you telephone her a few minutes before you bought the gun?'
'Mr. Schiavinato, we have here a tele company record showing that a call was made from a wall phone at a club called The Juice Bar at one- A.M. this past Friday night to a telephone listed to Svetlana Helder at 1217 Lincoln Street...' 'Cosa?'
The precinct's civilian stenographer read back the question. McNalley the interpreter translated it Lorenzo and his lawyer. Moscowitz nodded that it was okay to answer it.
'I don't know who called this woman,'
he said, 'but it wasn't me.'
'Weren't you in The Juice Bar that night at
A.M.?'
'No. I don't know this place.'
'Uptown in Riverhead?'
'No.'
'Harris Avenue? Uptown?'
'No.'
'Mr. Schiavinato...'
Such a damn difficult name to pronounce.
'Mr. Schiavinato, do you know a man named Bernard Himmel?'
'No.'
'Bernie Himmel?'
'No.'
'Benny Himmel?'
'No.'
'Bernie the Banker Himmel?'
'I don't know any of these people.'
'Never placed a bet with him, huh?'
'Never. Any of them.'
A good imitation of a Robert Redford smile. Hawes wanted to smack him.
'Ever place a bet with him on the Super Bowl?' 'What is this Super Bowl?'
Smack the fucking smile off his face.
'Steelers against the Cowboys?'
'I don't know what any of this means.' 'Twenty grand on the Steelers?' 'What is twenty grand?'
'You lost the bet. Because of the point spread.' 'What is a point spread?' 'Twenty grand gone in a wink.' 'What is a wink?'
'He sounds like Jeopardy t. ,' Carella said.
'Please, Detective,' Moscowitz warned, raising an eyebrow.
'Sorry, Counselor,' Carella said, and raised his own eyebrow. 'Mr. Schiavinato, didn't you lose twenty thousand dollars on the Steelers-Cowboys game?'
'I never had twenty thousand dollars in my entire life.'
'You had it when you paid your marker, didn't you?'
'I don't know what a marker is.'
'A promise to pay money you owed.'
'I don't owe anybody money. I have an honest job. I do honest work.'
'You owed Bernie Himmel the twenty thousand dollars you lost on the Super Bowl, didn't you?'
'No.'
'You went to see him on Friday night...'
'... and he told you he'd kill you if you didn't the money by Sunday morning.'
'I don't know who you're talking about.'
'Bernie Himmel. Your bookie. Bernie the B You're a gambler, aren't you, Lorenzo?'
'Sometimes I bet on horse races. At the OTB. B don't know this man you're talking about.'
'Then you don't remember him telling you to get money or you'd be swimming with your little fishie
'I don't know him. How could he tell me this?'
'After which you went directly to the wall
telephone...'
'No.'
'... and called Svetlana Dyalovich. Why,
Did you want to make sure she'd be out of her apartment when you went there to burglarize it?' 'Cosa?' he said again.
The stenographer repeated the question. M translated it. Moscowitz cleared his throat.
'Detective,' he said, 'my client has told you repeatedly that he did not know Svetlana D) did not know her granddaughter, and never went to her apartment on Lincoln Street. Nor does he know a bookmaker named Bernie Himmel or a guy named Jose Santiago. Now, if...'
'He's not a gun dealer.'
'Excuse me, I thought he's supposed to have my client a gun.'
'He did sell him a gun. But he's not a dealer. He pumps gas at a Texaco station.'
