Lawrence had shot that kid. That was back when I was working at home, writing science fiction novels, and not keeping up with the news the way I had to now. For a moment, I felt wistful.
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about that,” I said. “Before my time.”
“Who did that to Lawrence?” He motioned with his head in the direction of the apartment.
“I don’t know.”
“He’s in surgery now. The paramedics say he was stabbed. So far, none of the neighbors report hearing anything.”
I repeated for him everything I’d told the uniformed cop. About the store stakeout, the guys in the black Annihilator, how the night before, they’d followed us when we were in Lawrence’s Buick.
“You think it was that bunch who tried to kill him?” Trimble asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m just telling you what I know. It’s kind of convenient, though, getting him out of the way before they raid the men’s shop.”
Trimble didn’t say anything for a while.
I continued, “Plus, someone was looking for something. The room he used for an office, it’s been tossed.”
“Tossed?” Trimble said.
“Isn’t that the word?” I said.
He reached for the radio hanging from the elaborate communications setup in the center of the dashboard. “Trimble here. We get anywhere tracking down the SUV that rammed in that store over on Garvin?”
“Negative,” a voice squawked back at him.
“If you get anything, let me know. That vehicle may also be wanted in connection with this thing here on Montgomery.” He replaced the handset and said to me, “I guess you’ve got a real good story to write now, huh? Hanging out with a detective who ends up nearly getting killed doing his job. That’s kind of lucky for you, right?”
I just shook my head. “Let me guess,” I said. “Next you’ll say, ‘Anything to sell newspapers.’ You know what sells newspapers? The horoscope. Where do you get off saying shit like that?”
Trimble almost looked ashamed. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.
“Look,” I said, “I haven’t known Lawrence as long as you, but I like the guy. We hit it off. And if you don’t need me for anything else, it’s been a very long night, and I’d like to go home.”
Trimble reached into his jacket and brought out a card, handed it to me. “If you find out anything, hear anything, give me a call. My home number’s on there, too. Look, Lawrence was my friend, too, he still is. I’m guessing…” He let the sentence trail off, like he didn’t want to say what he was about to say. “I’m guessing he told you that I let him down one time, a while back, and there’s a lot of truth to that. I wasn’t there for him that night, and I’ve got to live with that for the rest of my life. But if there’s anything I can do now, to help him, to find out who did this to him, I’m going to do it. And I’d appreciate any help that you can give me.”
I nodded, took the card from his hand and slipped it into my jacket.
“Okay,” I said.
I got out of the cruiser and noticed that one of the uniformed cops was just finishing up with my cabby. As I approached the cab, my cell phone rang, and I jumped.
“Hey,” Sarah said.
“Hi,” I said.
“Listen, I’m sorry to call, I know you’re on your stakeout now with Lawrence, but I wanted to give you a quick call.”
“Yeah,” I said, evenly. I felt very tired all of a sudden.
“I called home, talked to Paul. And he sounded, I don’t know, I think he sounded drunk.”
“Uh-huh,” I said.
“I mean, he’s sixteen, I’m not stupid, I was sixteen, too, once, but I just wondered what he was like when you left the house.”
“He was fine.”
“I asked Angie what he’d been up to, but she either didn’t know or was covering up for him. She says she ran into you at the mall?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Angie’s home?”
“You were at the
I was trying to remember. It was true. I had been at the mall, but instead of just a few hours ago, it felt like days.
“Yeah, I guess I was. But when you talked to Angie, was she home?”
“Yeah, she said she’d just got in. Zack, what is it? You sound almost as weird as Paul did on the phone.”
“Listen, Sarah, I’m in a bit of a situation here at the moment. Why don’t we talk in the morning?”
“Is something going on? Is everything okay?”
“Lawrence didn’t make it to the stakeout tonight. He ran into a bit of trouble. I’m at his place now.”
“What kind of trouble?”
I wanted to tell her. Sarah was my rock. When I was down or hurting or scared, she was always there for me, even when I was being the jerk of the century. But I was tired, and too weary to handle the hundred questions she’d be entitled to ask.
“Honey, I’ve really got to go,” I said. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”
She could sense I was holding back. She needed to ask just one question. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m okay.”
As I slipped the phone back into my jacket, I thought,
I asked the cabby to give me a lift back to the doughnut shop where I’d left my car.
“I got the word,” the cabby said as we drove through the night. “It was ‘pooch.’ ”
19
BACK AT THE DOUGHNUT PLACE, once again behind the wheel of my car, it occurred to me that, as a staffer with the biggest newspaper in the city, I had some obligation to notify the city desk about what was going on.
I got hold of Dan, working late on the city copy desk, who generally feels that I am a total fucking idiot, stemming back to an incident before I joined the paper. Because he mostly worked nights, our paths had rarely crossed since I’d started my new job.
“Hey, Dan,” I said.
“Zack. Sarah’s not here. She’s at that retreat where all the management types went.”
“I know, Dan. She’s my wife. She tells me things.”
“So, what can I do for you then? Pretend to fall down the stairs again?” Some things end up haunting you for a very long time.
“I thought you’d want to know that a
I could hear Dan’s breath intake. “Which
“Me, Dan. Is there time to write anything for the replate?”
“It’s like, ten minutes to deadline. Best I could do would be to get a brief in or something.”
“What do you think? I’ve got a hell of a story here, about a private detective by the name of Lawrence Jones, who’s been investigating a series of robberies and ends up getting stabbed in his own apartment. I was doing a whole takeout on him.”
“You found him?”
“Yes.”
“And called the police?”
“Yes, Dan.”
