‘You’re probably wondering how I know you were with him the night he died.’ Now that Tall Sally had decamped from the male gender and joined the ladies, Riker was the only man alive who knew that Frankie Delight was the corpse found in the ashes of a fire. ‘There’s no statute of limitations, Sal. Murder never goes away.’
‘If Sparrow says I’m the one that knifed him, she’s a liar.’
Frankie Delight, known to the medical examiner as John Doe, had indeed been killed with a knife. Sal was reaffirming a long-held belief that criminals as a class were stupid to the bone.
‘Now that’s another problem,’ said Riker. ‘Sparrow got stabbed the same night Frankie died.’ He opened the folder and scanned the four sheets of paperwork necessary to requisition an electric pencil-sharpener. ‘Here’s a statement from the ambulance driver. He was heading for the scene when he saw a seven-foot-tall blonde hightailing it down the street.’ That was actually true. However, fifteen years ago, Riker had been the only one to hear that statement, and he had never written it down. ‘So, Sal, can you – ’
‘If it wasn’t for me, that junkie whore would’ve bled to death.’ Sal’s hand waved in the air in a girlie affectation. ‘Or the rats would’ve got her. I saved her damn life.’
This did not work with what Riker knew about the ex-convict’s character; Tall Sally did not have one.
‘I know you used a ten-year-old girl to heist VCRs off a delivery truck.’ He opened the folder again, feigning interest in another piece of paper. This one was blank. ‘I got two cops who can place you on that scene. When their patrol car showed up, you left that poor kid behind.’
‘What makes you think that I – ’
‘You answer my questions, Sal. That’s how it works. I know that little kid gave the VCRs to Sparrow. Then you caught Sparrow fencing them for heroin. You stabbed her and killed the drug dealer. I’ve got motive, opportunity – everything I need to close this case.’
‘Frankie was dead when I got there. You know my rapsheet. Any knives, any weapons? No!’ Hysteria was rising in Tall Sally’s voice. ‘Frankie stabbed Sparrow. And I carried that bleeding whore on my back for three blocks.’
‘You moved her body away from a crime scene – so you could go back and get your goods without wading through ten cops.’
‘No, that was the kid’s idea. The brat drags me to this empty building on Avenue B. Used to be a crackhouse before the cops raided it. And there’s the whore laid out on the sidewalk. So I’m carrying this half-dead whore, and the kid runs up ahead, looking for a phone that wasn’t broke. She used my damn change to call 911! Then I laid Sparrow down – ’
‘And you went back to the crackhouse to get your VCRs. So that’s when you saw Frankie’s body? Is that your story, Sal?’
‘Damn kid didn’t mention that – a dead man lying next to my VCRs. So much blood. I swear, every drop in his body bled out. Still had the knife in his leg.’ Sal pointed one finger at Riker, saying, ‘And that was Sparrow’s knife. Big ol’ S on the hilt.’
‘Too bad we never recovered the murder weapon.’ That was a lie. Riker had personally disposed of that knife long ago. ‘Maybe the kid can back you up. Got a name for her?’
‘No, just street names. I called her the Flying Flea. Damn, that girl could run. Anyways, she’s dead now. Sparrow said the kid got cooked in a fire.’
Riker was finally convinced that this ex-con would never connect the name Kathy to a cop with the same green eyes. ‘The evidence makes you look bad, Sal. We can get you a lawyer, or we can make this old business go away. You run into Sparrow now and then, right? If you lie to me, I’ll have your parole revoked.’
They played a waiting game, and finally Tall Sally leaned forward, saying, ‘That other cop, the tall blonde? She said the whore got her nose fixed. Now if I did see Sparrow – it would’ve been before that.’
‘You can do better, Sal. I need to know how Sparrow was spending her time the week before she died.’
‘Man, I can’t give you what I don’t have. Three months ago, I was leaving town for the weekend, so I’m sittin’ in traffic at the Lincoln Tunnel, and there’s Sparrow, working the cars with all the other busted-up whores. Damn queen of the commuter blowjob.’
‘You’re lying. There haven’t been any hookers around that tunnel for over a year.’
‘You don’t drive much, do you, Riker?’
Why would Sal spin him a lie that was so easy to break? The detective heard voices on the other side of the door, and one of them was Ronald Deluthe’s.
‘Okay, you can go.’ He actually felt a breeze when Tall Sally sprinted from the room. Deluthe smashed himself against the door frame when the giant blonde sped by him. And Riker could not help but notice that Sal’s hair color looked more natural than the cop’s.
‘Okay, kid, what’ve you got for me?’
‘All the stuff you wanted me to copy for Mr Butler.’ Deluthe set a pile of paperwork on the table, then took the chair that Sal had vacated. His back was turned to the door when Mallory appeared on the threshold.
Riker patted the paperback in his pocket. He had been hoping to find a private moment to give her the old western, but this was not the time. She was wearing dark glasses, her idea of hiding. Tall Sally would not be back, but there were more interviews to come, other whores who would remember Sparrow’s golden shadow, a child with strange green eyes. Mallory must feel trapped.
No, there was something else on her mind. Her attention was focused on the young cop seated at the table. Soundlessly, she moved into the room and stood behind Deluthe’s chair. She bent down to his ear and said softly, ‘I told you to stay at Stella Small’s apartment – her unlocked apartment.’
She might as well have shot him.
Deluthe’s hand went to his chest as he lifted his head and stammered to the ceiling, ‘I got a uniform to stand guard in front of her door.’
Mallory sat down at the table, the picture of calm, shaking her head slowly from side to side. ‘No, you don’t get to issue orders to the uniforms. That’s not your job, and you don’t have the rank.’
‘And it pisses off their sergeants,’ Riker added.
Mallory lowered her glasses so Deluthe could see that she was three seconds away from doing some real damage. ‘That uniform was pulled off guard duty to settle a domestic dispute in another building. Nobody bothered to tell his sergeant that waiting for Stella Small was a matter of life and death.’
Deluthe could not look away from her. He was waiting for the explosion of temper, but Mallory was only stringing out his imagination, his anticipation of what she might do.
‘I’ll go back.’ Deluthe was rising from his chair.
‘No you won’t.’
He froze in an awkward stance, half sitting, half standing, awaiting permission to wet his pants.
She never raised her voice. ‘I patched things up with the cop’s sergeant. He gave me a guard for the door and another man to canvas the neighbors in her building. That was also your job.’
‘You didn’t tell me that you wanted – ’
‘I shouldn’t have to tell you every damn thing, Deluthe. Sit down.’
He sank to the chair.
‘The uniforms will do the job,’ she said. ‘You stay the hell out of it. Just sit on your hands.’
Riker kept silent until she left the room, and then he turned to the problem of rebuilding the shattered whiteshield. ‘How long were you with Loman’s squad? Four months?’
The younger man nodded.
‘Did they teach you anything?
‘Yes, sir.’ There was a curious lack of sarcasm in Deluthe’s voice when he said, ‘I know which guys take cream and sugar, and who likes their coffee black. I know who wants mayo on their sandwiches and who wants butter. And I never get their deli orders wrong.’