‘Yeah, apart from that.’
‘Furniture.’
Joe shook his head. ‘Equipment. Machines, all that shit we saw at his lab.’
‘But he works at his lab, doesn’t he?’
‘When he was showing us around, did you think the guy was really at home with it? Or comfortable in that environment? When he was watching himself on his television screen, I looked at his calendar and almost every evening he had a social engagement. And he’s not doing technician work in the day time. He’s not doing it at night. Maybe he’s doing it at the weekend, but now we know he isn’t. There’s nothing here.’
‘Yeah, but he’s the big boss. He doesn’t want to be fooling around with ovens and little scalpels and shit. He says to us, “what I do is fine art” means, “what my minions do is fine art”.’
Joe shook his head. ‘Remember the Asian girl who said we should ask Valtry to show us around? I think it’s because she had her doubts about something.’
They moved into the hallway.
‘So he just takes credit for his workers’ talent,’ said Danny. ‘That’s what bosses do. When we get the psycho who did this, you think it’s going to be us up there on the podium?’
‘Sure,’ said Joe, ‘but Valtry was doing more than that. He was producing physical work that made his lab rats think he was great.’
‘Yeah and…?’
‘And I don’t think it was him who was producing it,’ said Joe.
They walked back to Bobby.
‘Where’s the doorman?’ said Joe.
‘Shook-up downstairs,’ said Bobby. ‘Guy by the name of Cliff.’
Joe turned to Danny. ‘Let’s go talk to him.’
They took the elevator down to the first floor. Cliff sat, pale and sweating on an orange and grey sofa in front of them. ‘I didn’t see anyone come in,’ he said. He held his right hand over his left arm. ‘I’m sorry. I got heart problems.’
‘It’s OK,’ said Joe. ‘Take it easy. You need a glass of water?’
‘No thanks. I’m good.’
‘You were here all evening,’ said Joe.
‘Yes,’ said Cliff. ‘I’m always here when I’m supposed to be here.’
‘That’s good. And no-one came to see Mr Valtry?’
‘No-one came through the front door.’
‘OK.’
‘But we have a back entrance here. We got a lot of personalities living here, entertainment industry, models, business people and they like their privacy.’
‘There’s no security detail back there?’ said Joe.
‘No and that’s the way they like it.’
‘So if I had a visitor, I can tell them where that door is and they walk right in.’
‘Well, they would need your private code, each apartment has one, but sure, they can come in, we’re not gonna know. A car could pull right up to that back door and anyone who’s been given the code can come in.’
‘Do you have a code?’
‘I have a code. Residents set and reset their own codes. Your neighbor won’t know your code unless you want him to, but there’s no reason you would need to give him that. If something bad happens, whoever’s code was entered can be traced back to them. But that hasn’t happened yet… until now… and unfortunately the guy whose code was used isn’t around to tell us about it.’
‘But Valtry had to have known who he was letting in.’
‘Yeah, obviously not well enough. Valtry was one of the good guys, would have trusted anyone. We’re all really sorry this happened.’
‘So are we, Cliff.’
‘So what’s up?’ said Danny as they walked to the car.
‘What do you mean what’s up?’ said Joe.
‘You’re acting weird.’
‘What’s up,’ said Joe, ‘is that my wife is pregnant.’
Danny stopped. ‘Jesus. Well, congratulations. That’s… great news. Is it?’
Joe sighed. ‘If I was a better person, yeah, maybe.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I guess it’s good news. Least we made Shaun think it was.’
‘Chicks dig guys with babies.’
Joe laughed, then quickly put a hand to his jaw. ‘Shit.’
‘I’ll take the kid to the park for you,’ said Danny. ‘I got no problem with that. I’ll tell him quietly, but loud enough for the hot chicks – Mommy is with the angels.’
Joe laughed again, despite his jaw. ‘You’re a sick fuck.’
TWENTY-TWO
Bobby Nicotero walked into the office at Manhattan North and went straight for Joe’s desk.
‘Can I have a word please, Joe?’
‘Sure,’ said Joe. ‘Go ahead.’
‘Maybe out in the hallway,’ said Bobby.
‘You can talk to me here.’
Bobby jabbed a finger towards him, his eyes blazing. ‘The hallway,’ he said, turning around and walking out.
Joe got up slowly and followed him.
‘Would you like to tell me,’ shouted Bobby, ‘what the hell is going on between you and my father?’
‘What?’ said Joe, closing the door behind him.
‘I know you’re up to something. He’s doing something for you, I know he is. And-’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’ said Joe.
‘He’s acting all secretive…’ He trailed off. ‘I guess I was wrong about him cheating on my mom-’
‘Of course you were wrong,’ said Joe. ‘I could have told you that.’
‘Oh, sure you could, all-fucking-seeing-all-knowing-Joe-Lu-fucking-cchesi.’
‘Are you ever going to fucking grow up?’
‘Shut the fuck up.’
Joe let out a breath. ‘Bobby, like it or not, I care a lot about Old Nic. Your father’s bored, he misses the job-’
‘I could care less about my father,’ said Bobby. ‘I’m looking out for my ma. She’s worried sick about him. She’s just glad she got him to retirement in one piece. She doesn’t want him involved in your bullshit.’
‘Whatever is between me and your father is between me and your father,’ said Joe.
‘Yeah, just the two of you,’ said Bobby. ‘Nice and tight. But he’s got a wife, all right?’
‘Jesus Christ, listen to yourself, you fucking freak. I’m helping your father with his book, OK? That’s it. Cover blown. Big deal.’
‘You’re full of shit, Lucchesi.’
‘That’s what I’m doing, Bobby. Ask your father.’
‘I’m not asking him shit.’
‘No shit.’
‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’
‘You said it yourself – you could care less about your father. He wants to do something with his time. I help-’
