“Look, Mickey, we’re trying to learn the names of anyone who may have had a sexual thing for her, okay? And this is a sex club where she danced. So, I want you to help us here, because the likelihood is that her killer frequented your establishment.”
“I understand, but nobody’s coming to mind.”
Steve looked at the big wide-eyed stare and wondered if anything came to Mickey DeLuca’s mind. He glanced at his notes. “We’ve got some evidence that she was out of town for a week or so in April. Know where she went or anything about that?”
“Oh, yeah. I think she said she was visiting relatives in Canada or something. Lemme check the books.” When he returned, he said, “Yeah, she was off for over three weeks, mid-April to the first week in May. Wasn’t great for business, because she had her regulars. But she came back, and the guys were like bees to honey up here. What a loss.”
“You mentioned Terry’s regulars. I’m wondering if we can have a list of those.”
DeLuca made a woeful expression. “The thing is, we don’t keep records of them.”
“You mean the women have regular customers and you don’t have their names? This is a club, right?”
“Yeah, but it’s mostly on a first-name basis, and there’s no telling they use their real names or just nicknames or something.”
“How about people who pay by credit card?”
“Yeah, we have those. But that’s private information, right?”
Steve glanced at one of the business cards he got from a dispenser at the front desk. The card read, VISIT OUR WEB SITE. “How about people who subscribe to your newsletters?”
“Well, we have the
“I respect that, but we can subpoena that and your credit card customers, so we’re asking you to save us all some time, okay, Mickey? Just a list of names, and it won’t go anywhere else.”
“Jeez, I’m sorry, Officer, but I really can’t do that. I mean, no offense, but it’s not something I’m authorized to do.”
“Okay, then maybe you can tell me where we can find Mr. Vernone.”
“Who?”
Steve checked his PDA device. “Nuncio Vernone. He’s the owner, right?”
“Oh, Nonny. Yeah, but he’s out of town.”
“Well, maybe you can call him.”
“I’m not sure where he is.”
Talking to DeLuca was like addressing a slow child. “Okay, then maybe you can tell us your date of birth, if you remember it.”
“Why you wanna know that?”
“Just wondering.”
DeLuca looked from Steve to Neil then he told him.
“And you spell your name D-E-L-U-C-A and the first name is Michael, right?”
Mickey hesitated. “Yeah.”
Steve punched some keys. “How long have you been the manager here?”
“Three months, why?”
“And before that you were bartender at Wolfs in Cranston, Rhode Island.”
“How do you know that?”
Steve raised his handheld. “Law Enforcement Agencies Processing Systems, National Crime Information Center Network. Very handy. Does Mr. Vernone know that you have twelve prior charges plus two arrests for possession of a controlled substance? Did he know that when he hired you? No? Then how about the evening of December 17 of last year when you were charged with violation of the Rhode Island liquor laws by serving alcohol to a minor, which resulted in Wolfs being put on probation for a month? Does he know about that?”
“I don’t know. Yeah, he does. Maybe not. I don’t know.”
“Uh-huh. Does Mr. Vernone own a cell phone?”
“Yeah.”
“May I please have the number?”
“We’re not supposed to give that out.”
“Mickey, we are investigating a serious crime and there are laws against withholding vital information in the pursuit of a criminal case, and homicide, let me remind you, is at the top of serious. Unless you want to come down to headquarters and call your boss from there and tell him that we’re investigating the murder of one of his employees and that his manager is not cooperating, and then it gets in the paper that—”
“Okay, okay. I’ll call him.”
“We also want a list of all your employees.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Fish in a barrel,” Steve said as DeLuca scurried. He could see that Neil was fidgety and wanted to leave. Every so often he’d eye the waitresses or glance at the wall photos of the naked dancers. “You okay?”
“Fucking place makes me want to go home and take a shower is all.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
DeLuca returned. “I guess it’s your lucky day, guys. Mr. Vernone was very cooperative.” He handed Steve three sheets of paper with a list of subscribers.
“MerBabes Revue. Catchy.”
DeLuca smiled proudly. “Yeah.”
“We’ll be back to talk to other staffers. In the meantime, if you think of anything else that might help, please give a call.” He handed Mickey his card.
“Yeah, sure.” Then Mickey pulled out of his wallet his own business cards and snapped one to each of them. “If you guys like exotic dancing, you come back and ask for me, okay? You come as my guests. We got the best buffalo wings anywhere. And lady friends are welcomed.”
They left and stepped into the bright light of the open beach. Steve looked at the marquee photo of Terry. “What a waste,” he said.
“Yeah,” Neil said, and headed for the car.
18
DERRY, NEW HAMPSHIRE
FALL 1970
He continued sleeping with Lila for weeks while his dad was away. But that came to an abrupt end when Kirk returned unexpectedly one night and found them together in his bed.
Kirk spent the night in the guest room, waiting until the next morning to approach her. They were in the kitchen, Lila still in her bathrobe, his father in a golfing outfit ready for tee time with friends at nine. Even though the TV was on, he heard their exchange from the family room, where he was drawing in his sketch pad.
“He just turned ten, for Christ sake.”
“He wasn’t feeling well. And please stop taking the Lord’s name in vain.”
“And stop deflecting my point. Where the hell are your boundaries?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that he’s too old to be sleeping with you.”
“He couldn’t sleep because of his headaches. I’m just giving him a little TLC.”
“We have medication for the headaches.”
“And sometimes it doesn’t work.”
“Well, double the dosage. And if that doesn’t work we can call the doctor for something stronger. In the meantime, he sleeps where he belongs, in his own bed in his own room.”
