Burig, David Burig and Dean Valtry. Joe drew a black border around Preston Blake and Mary Burig – the ones who got away. Then he focused on the three names to the right of the red line – the line that marked the point when the motive changed. He had no doubt that the killer knew Mary Burig, David Burig and Dean Valtry. Joe just had to figure out how. And who else could be next on that list.
The steps to Preston Blake’s house were edged with crisp brown leaves, blown by a wind that had whipped up out of nowhere in the warm afternoon. Danny and Joe stood waiting on the front step after ringing the doorbell.
‘I can just feel my retina being scanned,’ said Danny. ‘Or maybe my ass. He’s taking some kind of outline of my ass to make sure it fits with the groove I left on the sofa from the last visit.’
Joe leaned close to Danny’s ear. ‘Shut the fuck up, he can probably hear you.’
‘Yeah. Well. He. Can. Probably. Read. Our. Lips. Any. Way,’ said Danny.
They rang the doorbell and knocked again.
Joe pulled out his phone and dialled Blake’s number. It went straight to voicemail.
‘Mr Blake, it’s Detective Joe Lucchesi, here. We’re right outside. We’d like to talk to you about a few things. We don’t want to hold you up too long.’
One minute later, the door opened and Preston Blake stood in front of them, his face passive. He leaned out, glanced past them, onto the street, left and right, then looked at their badges.
‘Come in,’ he said. He brought them to the same room they had been in before, guided them to the same sofa.
‘We appreciate this,’ said Joe.
Preston Blake shrugged.
‘How have you been doing?’ said Danny.
‘Great,’ said Blake, his voice flat. ‘How’s your investigation?’ He smiled.
‘That’s why we’re here,’ said Joe, ‘we’ve a few more questions for you.’
‘Go ahead. For what it’s worth.’
‘Have you ever come across a David Burig?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Just connecting a few dots.’
‘No. I don’t know a David Burig.’
‘What about a Dean Valtry?’
‘No. Are these guys suspects?’
‘Like I said, their names have come up, we’re just cross checking things. We were looking to see if maybe you knew them or if there’s anything else you might have remembered.’
‘Look, about remembering stuff, no, OK? I told you that. This is something I’ve gone over in my mind constantly. I’m not going to start randomly remembering extra details later on. It just doesn’t happen that way.’
‘For some people, it does,’ said Danny.
‘Not me.’
‘Have you been reading the papers?’
Blake stared at them. ‘No thanks,’ he said. ‘Not any more. My reluctance probably started around the time my house was under siege.’
‘We didn’t leak your name,’ said Joe. ‘We gave you a promise. And it’s just not in the interest of the investigation.’
Blake frowned. ‘So it wouldn’t have helped to have me out there – just in case the killer wanted to finish me off.’
‘He would have known where to find you if he wanted to do that. Look, there’s no point in going over old ground…’
‘Maybe I believe you, Detective,’ said Blake. ‘And you,’ he said to Danny. ‘But what about the rest of your men? Do you trust them? All of them?’
Joe’s phone rang. ‘Excuse me,’ he said, standing up and walking a few feet away.
‘Joe, it’s Denis Cullen. I’m running a check on that Alan Noder guy and-’
‘Moder,’ said Joe. ‘M-O-D-E-R.’
‘Oh, shit, sorry. That’s why it wasn’t adding up,’ said Denis. ‘Someone wrote it down here-’
‘Danny’s scrawl. Not a problem.’
Joe sat back down. ‘My apologies. Back to the article – if it helps, I will call the journalist right now and try again to get his source. You know how they are about that, though, right? It’s not going to be easy. But if I do it, if he gives me that information, it will be dealt with.’
‘There’s no need to call him,’ said Blake. ‘I’m over it. It’s done now. I guess I’ll be forever linked in every article, website, whatever. I don’t think anyone gets how hard that is.’
‘I get it,’ said Joe.
‘That’s why I thought maybe it wasn’t you personally.’
‘Look, we need your help. I’m sure you can understand why. We’ve had years talking to people, just talking and you’d be amazed at what can come back to people when they have to tell a story more than once-’
‘A story,’ said Blake. ‘That’s how you see it. That’s how the press see it. A nice little story. An angle.’
‘Come on,’ said Joe. ‘You know what I mean. I’m not-’
Blake stood up suddenly. ‘I’m sorry. Would you excuse me, please? I just remembered. I’ve got a client coming to pick up a piece. Let me just bring it up.’
He left them sitting there.
‘He isn’t as pissed as I thought he’d be,’ said Danny.
Joe let out a long breath. ‘He’s hard fucking work.’
‘You have to watch what you say the whole time,’ said Danny.
‘He looks like shit,’ said Joe.
‘Why not get his teeth fixed?’
‘Dr Mak says he’s too scared.’
‘That’s what he says about everyone…’
‘Well because you’ve brought it up, you can be the first to know: I am scheduled for surgery.’
‘You what?’ said Danny.
‘Yes,’ said Joe. ‘Decision is made.’
‘Like major surgery?’
Joe smiled. ‘Like probably the most minor surgery you can get.’
Danny laughed. ‘Then what’s the point?’
‘It’s supposed to really work and it doesn’t screw you up for ages, no major recovery time. I can go in, get it done, come out again, go right back to work. I’m doing it for you…’
Danny shook his head. ‘I’m in shock here.’
‘Yeah, well, I’ve had enough with the pain.’
‘When you going in?’
‘The end of the week – a slot came up…’
‘Does Rufo know?’
Joe nodded. ‘He’s always happy when people address their problems.’
Danny smiled. They sat in silence for a while.
‘You know something?’ said Joe. ‘He said “up”.’
‘What?’ said Danny. ‘Who?’
‘Blake. He said, “Let me just bring it up”. Last time we were here, he told us his workshop was upstairs. If that was the case, he’d be bringing the jewelry down.’
‘So?’ said Danny. ‘So he brought the thing upstairs, now he’s bringing it down.’
‘Why has he been gone ten minutes?’ said Joe, standing up.
