When he got older, the other kids stopped picking on him, because they were afraid of him. As a matter of fact, they still are afraid of him-scared to death. I interviewed at least a dozen of them. They were all real reserved at first, but once they started feeling comfortable talking to me, they told me all I needed to hear. All the shops on that block have these connected basements, so you can go from one building to another without ever going outside.
“Anyway, all the kids that grew up on that block swore that he’d come through the basement and come into their rooms at night to watch them sleeping. They’d wake up screaming, but he’d be gone by the time their parents would come. One of the kids, well he’s an adult now, he told me that he would sneak his father’s lase-pistol into his room and hide it under his pillow and try to stay awake so he could fry the Zorno kid when he came in, but he always fell asleep. They’d find missing pets down in the cellar, staked open, blood and guts all over. You know, the usual serial-killer-in-the-making kind of shit. Even if he only did half the things they think he did, we’re still dealing with a major psycho.”
“Did he do anything to the pets’ faces?”
“He sure as hell did. He’d cut the lips off just like your vic. That’s how they all knew it was him that was doing it. He had a real obsession with lips. I had two theories on that: either he cut the lips off to make the pets ugly like himself, or he keeps the lips as some kind of substitute for his own. Either way, the guy’s nutsville.”
“Did you tell all this to the judge?”
“Of course I did-didn’t make a difference with that idiot. Get this; when Zorno turned eighteen, he got a job on a barge as a loader. He traveled up and down the river all the time. I subpoenaed the barge’s records, matched up the ports of call with reports of missing persons. I found seventeen matches- seventeen. And the judge gave him three years for burglary. That asshole judge said, ‘No body, no crime.’”
Maggie and I looked at each other, the same shock in her face as mine- seventeen. Then Maggie’s face struck with a revelation, “Kapasi’s sister.”
She was right. The time frames matched up. “Brenda, do you remember if one of your missing persons was named Isabel Kapasi from Loja?”
“It sounds familiar, but I’ll have to check. Give me a minute to look it up.”
Her hologram froze on hold while my brain did anything but. I tried to change gears…from Jhuko Kapasi to Ali Zorno with his twisted fishhook grin. I stretched for a connection to Mayor Samir and came up empty.
Brenda came back on the line. “I do have Isabel Kapasi on my list. How did you know?”
“I’ll have to explain it later, Brenda. We’ve got to go.” I clicked off the line, forgetting to say thanks. I’d make it up to her later.
Maggie looked like she was having the time of her life. Her eyes were thrill-of-the-hunt glowing. “Let’s go get the son of a bitch.”
I was still trying to come to terms with the new facts. Private Kapasi: hustler, but not a murderer. His sister disappeared the day he got sentenced for running ’guana fights, possibly a victim of Ali Zorno’s. “Yeah. Let’s go get him.”
“Do we need backup?”
“Never share a collar unless you have to, Maggie. You heard Brenda; he gives up easy.”
I called the prison and found out which boardinghouse Zorno had been placed in. Ex-cons got thirty days of free housing, supposedly enough time to land work before they were tossed onto the street.
On the way out, I stopped to tell the kid he could go. I had to wake him up. “You’re free to go, Pedro. Here’s some money so you can get a cab home.”
“Are you going to get the guy?” he asked looking up at me, squinting from the bright lights. The kid was tired.
“Yeah. We’re going to get him now.”
“Are you going to kill him?”
“Only if we have to, Pedro.”
“Can I come?”
“No, but we’ll have to bring you back in to ID him after we pick him up so get some rest.”
Pedro looked let down. He wanted to come and watch.
We hopped into my car. We’d be better off in it than a police prowler. We didn’t want him alerted to our presence.
We crossed the Koba to get to Zorno’s boardinghouse. It was slow going on the bridge-caught behind a flock of skeletal old women on bikes, their handlebars stacked high with roped bundles of rugs. They pedaled at walk- speed in sweated-up dresses, heading for the Old Town Square. Even an offworld car got stuck behind them, no room for it to pass. They should’ve taken a flyer.
We parked a block from the boardinghouse. It was a drab three stories, built after the boom-no arches or tile work. The building was boxy concrete, not even painted. We three-sixtied the place, no fire escape-good. If he was in his room, there wouldn’t be an escape route. The first-floor office door was hidden behind a locked steel gate. The building manager demanded our badges before opening the gate and letting us in.
There was a worn-out rug on the floor, and the walls were decorated with faded nature-scene posters spouting bullshit inspirational messages. The manager took a seat behind the counter. A selection of keycards sat in cubbies behind her. She was past her prime, with a cracked-leather smoker’s face and a voice to match. “What do you want?”
I said, “We need to talk to one of your tenants, Ali Zorno. Which room is he in?”
She talked like she had gravel in her throat. “You’re going to have to help me out, doll. I see a lot of guys come through this place. It’s hard to remember ’em all. It’s not like any of ’em are worth remembering. They’re all rotten, if you ask me. Most of ’em get back to doping and stealing the day they get out.”
“Ali Zorno. He would have come in about three weeks ago.”
She ignored me and continued. “I’m not joking. Just yesterday, I got a new guy. Jacob is his name. He told me he served ten years. He was very happy to be out, and I was happy for him. He told me how he’s going to get a job waiting tables and settle down and start a family. I told him that sounds like a good idea. You know, I was encouraging him, building up his spirits.”
How hard is it to answer a simple fucking question? “Ali Zorno. He has a harelip. What unit is he in?”
“Hold on, I’m trying to tell a story. So last night another boarder starts banging on my door and tells me Jacob is in the hall, all strung out, sleeping on the staircase. He tells me he puked up all over the hall and it stinks. I told him I ain’t coming out there. I know better than to go out there at night. I open that gate and one of ’em will break in here and have his way with me. I tell you, these guys ain’t had any front-door lovin’ in a long time. I hear they do it with each other when they’re in jail, but that can’t be the same as having a woman.”
“Ali Zorno. First name A-L–I, last name Z-O-R-N-O.”
“I know how to spell, doll. Anyway, I opened the door but not the gate, and I peeked out to see Jacob lying on the staircase just like the boarder told me he was. He was right about the puke, too; it did stink. I told him it will just have to set there until morning. I called the cops; they came and took him. You see what I’m trying to tell you, there ain’t one of ’em that’s worth a damn. Now who was it you said you were looking for?”
“Ali Zorno.”
“Sure, I know who you’re talking about. He’s the quiet type. If you ask me, they’re the kind you really have to worry about. You never know what they’re thinking.”
“Which room?”
“He’s in room thirty-four.”
“Is he in now?”
“How should I know? I don’t keep track of ’em. That ain’t my job.”
“Give me a key to his room.”
“That ain’t my job either.”
I reached over the counter, snatched the key in cubby number thirty-four with my shaky hand. She started to protest but thought better of it and backed the hell out of my way. Maggie and I climbed the three flights of stairs, drawing our weapons as we approached the door. I tried to slow my breathing. I was winded from the stairs and more than a little scared. This fuck butchers people, cuts their lips off. I knocked, and we waited silently. If he asked who was there, I was going with, “I’m a new tenant, just got sprung from the Zoo this morning. I got a bottle of brandy that I don’t want to drink by myself.”
