“I don’t.”
“Fuck you don’t.”
I thought about that: Why did I care who she slept with?
“Have I answered your question sufficiently, Rodriguez?”
“Sorry,” I said again, and laid the images I’d brought with me out in front of her, which I knew would change the subject.
“What am I looking at?”
“It’s from the drawing of Carolyn Spivack. I made an enlargement of what was drawn on her belt.” I didn’t bother to tell her how I’d come to recognize it from my grandmother’s vision because I didn’t want her to think I was crazy.
“Okay. But what is it?”
“I did a little research, Googled everything from Egyptian hieroglyphics to the Rosetta Stone until I finally found it.”
“And?”
“That’s the cover of The White Man’s Bible. It’s like the white supremacists’ handbook.”
“Is it in any of the other drawings?”
“Not that I could find.” I slid a stack of pages over to her. “I pulled these excerpts off the Internet. The White Man’s Bible preaches violence against blacks, Jews, and race traitors-which is anyone who defends them.”
“Or marries them, or hangs out with them, that it?”
“Bull’s-eye. Boyfriends like Daniel Rice and girlfriends like Carolyn Spivack.”
“Race traitors,” said Terri, shaking her head. “Has a really nasty ring to it. But it makes sense of why the unsub sometimes chooses the white partners.”
“To show us that they’re just as guilty. Maybe guiltier, in his eyes. I wonder what that makes me, a Jew and Latino-a doubleheader, right?”
“Don’t kid about that.”
“Who says I’m kidding?” I picked at my cuticles.
“I’ve got to get this to Hate Crimes. Maybe they can identify a specific group that reads this crap.”
“My take is they all read it.”
Terri sucked on her lower lip while I made a mess of my fingernails.
“There has to be something Hate Crimes can tell us: the local groups, maybe a few addresses.”
“These days they stay in touch through the Internet. It’s a lot safer. Which means it’s not just local. Check this out.” I handed her another sheet of my online research, a list. “There’s a whole lot of them out there-the KKK, Christian Identity, Youth Scene, Aryan Nation, Soldiers of War, World Church of the Creator, which is your basic ecumenical come-one come-all assemblage for Neo-Nazi skinheads and white supremacists. Some statistics say there are as few as twenty thousand in the U.S., but the analysts who keep track of these groups…” I shook my head. “They put the number at about half a million-and growing.”
“Jesus,” she said.
“Don’t know what they’d make of him these days, probably wouldn’t go for the long hair and preaching love for thy fellow man.”
“So we’re looking for a fanatic.” Terri rapped her fingernails along the edge of her desk. “I hate to say it, but clearly the G can add to this. I’m sure they have reams of info on these groups and files on all the leaders. I’ve got to show them. It totally confirms what we thought about the hate crime angle.”
“And tells us something about the man who added the symbol to his drawing.”
“Like?”
“Like on some level he wants people to know it’s him. He was telling us something intentionally, right? I’d say he’s bragging.”
I could see Terri considering that. She stopped rapping her nails and touched my hand. “This is good work, Rodriguez. Thanks.” She let her hand rest on mine a moment, then she gathered all the papers together and stood up.
“I’m going to see Monteverdi and Bransky in Hate Crimes. And don’t worry, after that, I’ll go visit my new best friend, Agent Monica Collins.”
25
Perry Denton smoothed his hair back the way men who are aware of their appearance always do and headed into the Bronx tenement. The first-floor stairwell was lit by a dim red bulb, the one on the second floor burned out. He gripped the railing with a gloved hand as he made his way up to three, thinking this was the last time he’d be visiting Joe Vallie in this hellhole.
Vallie was sitting at the table in his kitchenette, an alcove off the living room with a stove, a half-size fridge, and a naked light-bulb that made the pockmarks on his face look like craters.
Denton didn’t feel one bit sorry for him. He’d brought this upon himself, no matter what he thought. It wasn’t his fault that Vallie had lost his job and pension, even if Vallie thought it was.
“You’re late.”
“You’re lucky I got here.”
“No, you’re lucky you got here,” said Vallie. “Such a busy man.”
Denton ignored the sarcasm. “This is the last of it, Joe.” He placed the stack of bills onto the table. “I can’t keep doing this.”
“Sure you can, Perry. Way I see it, you’re sitting on top of the world.” He slurped some coffee out of a cracked mug. There was a pot on the stove, but he didn’t offer any to Denton.
Pitiful mess, thought Denton. But he was way past feeling sorry for Joe Vallie. It made him sick to think that his ex-partner would do this to him. And enough was enough. “This is the last time, Joe, I mean it.”
“I heard you the first time.” He fingered the wad. “But I got expenses, you know that.”
“Yeah, I heard you were sick. How come you didn’t tell me?”
“Guess I didn’t think you cared.”
Oh, I care. When he’d heard Vallie had cancer, all he could think was, Maybe he’ll die.
“Guess you’re hoping I’ll die.”
“Something like that.” Denton laughed. “Just kidding.”
“No you’re not. But don’t get your hopes up, I’m in remission.”
“Yeah, I heard that too. Good for you.” It really was too bad about that clean bill of health. It would have made it so much easier, Vallie just dying. But now it was like he was doing the man a favor, wasn’t he? Eliminating years of decline, of possible pain and suffering. Really, it was for the best. “I bet you’ll beat this thing.”
“I intend to.”
“That’s the spirit, Joe.” It was absurd, all this bullshit friendly-enemy banter when Vallie was sticking a shiv into him, holding him up when the bastard was as guilty as he was. A part of him doubted Vallie would blow the whistle because it would send him to jail too, but what did Vallie have to lose? Nothing. Still, he couldn’t take any chances, a man in his position. “Honest, Joe, if you weren’t putting a gun to my head, I’d be crying.”
“That’s something I’d like to see.” Vallie laughed. “You know I got to get out of this dump, and I got that condo ready and waiting. I just have to make the payment.”
“You mean I have to, which I just did.”
“Maybe,” said Vallie.
Not maybe, thought Denton. “Sounds real good, Joe, condo in Honolulu, some Hawaiian cutie to bring you a piña colada and suck your dick. Oh, sorry, I guess that part of you isn’t quite up to it anymore.”
“You’re such a fuck, Perry, but you always were.”
“Oh, come on, Joe, I was only teasing. We had our good ol’ narc times, didn’t we?”
“Plenty,” said Vallie. “Which is why I think so many other folks would enjoy hearing about them.”
Denton’s face hardened. He thought about killing his ex-partner right on the spot, save himself some money.
“See you soon,” said Vallie. “Real soon.”
Denton laughed and cocked his finger at Vallie as if it were a gun. “Not if I see you first, big kahuna.”