“I’m really looking for this one particular person,” Ollie said.
Still hadn’t flashed the tin, though, so who could tell? And if he was merely here looking for sex, why hand him over to anyone else?
“What’s her name?” she asked. “Though, you know, maybe I can help you.”
“She’s a he,” Ollie said, and grinned like a hyena. “Emilio Herrera, you know her? Him?”
“No, I’m sorry, I don’t,” the girl said at once, and then, “In fact, I was on my way home, so if you’ll excuse me…”
“Hold it just a second,” Ollie said. He was still smiling. The girl was thinking he was either a fat pig of a john who dug boys, in which case she didn’t want to have anything to do with him, or else he was a fat pig of a cop looking to bust Emilio for narcotics use or breaking and entry, both of which pursuits Emilio was pretty good at. In which case shestilldidn’t want to have anything to do with him.
“Emmy?” he said. “He goes by the name Emmy?”
“Never heard of himorher,” the girl said.
“And what’s your name?”
“Why is that important to you?”
“Because we like to know who’s impeding the progress of a police investigation,” he said, and out came the tin, all blue and gold, Detective/First Grade it said on it. Oh shit, she thought again.
“I’m Talu,” she said.
“Talu indeed,” he said, “ah yes.”
She wondered who he was imitating.
He sounded like Al Pacino in some movie she saw ages ago, before she got in the life.
She was wondering, too, how she could get him off her back about Emilio, whom she knew only as a transvestite junkie who catered to faggots who didn’t know they were faggots. She didn’t want trouble here tonight. A minute ago, she’d told him she was on her way home. Right now, that’s all she wanted to do, go home, fast.
“And what may your last name be, m’little chickadee?”
“Diaz,” she said.
“In which case, you might be familiar with this Herrera girl or boy, as the case may be, who is yet another person of the Hispanic persuasion, not to mention the profession you both share.”
“I don’t know what profession that is you’re talking about,” Talu said.
“Ah me, a poor innocent adrift on the night,” Ollie said.
“If you don’t mind, Detective, I’d really like to go home now.”
“Ah, but I thought I detected a faint glimmer in your eye when I mentioned the name Herrera,” Ollie said.
“No, I don’t know the man.”
“Then I must have been mistaken, Talu.”
“Yes, you surely were.”
“In which case, do go home. And may God bless you,” he said.
She couldn’t believe her own ears.
She turned and was out of there in a Taliban minute.
Ollie was thinking he’d hit the files when he got back to the office, see if they had anything that might connect little Miss Talu Diaz here, with her twitchy little ass and mile-high heels, to Mr. Emilio Herrera, with his blond wig and big tits, who had not showed up on the computer, and who so far was—
A redheaded girl wearing a short black skirt and a pink halter top was coming around the corner. She spotted Ollie, smiled, came swiveling over on her spike heels, and said, “I’m Anya,” it sounded like. “Looking for a date, sweetheart?”
• • •
“IT’S DEFINITELY YOUhe’s looking for,” Aine said. “He gave me your name. Emilio Herrera. He gave me your street name, too. Emmy. He said you’re a blonde with big tits.”
“Well, Iam,” Emilio said, and laughed.
He was high on marijuana. This was unusual for a heroin addict. She almost resented him being high. In fact, shedidresent it. She was trying to give him important information here, and he was acting like a giggly little girl.
“Now that is very funny,” he said, and laughed. “A big fat cop looking to fuck a little Puerto Rican boy with faketetas.That is truly comical.”
“He wasn’t looking forsex,” Aine said. “He was looking foryou.Do you understand me? He thinks you’re involved in some kind of crime.”
“Well, Iam,” Emilio said, and laughed again. “Did he say which crime? Did he say possession, did he say burglary, did he say grand theft, auto, did he say prostitution? I am involved in a greatmanycrimes, Aine. The man should have been more specific.”
“Well, he wasn’t. He was on a fishing expedition, is what it was.”
“But you got the feeling he thought I was involved in some crime or another.”
“Yes, that’s the impression I got.”
“He told you he was looking for me…”
“Yes.”
“…because I was involved in some crime or…”
“No.”
“He didnotsay I was involved in some…?”
“No, he didn’t come out and say that. But it’s what I discerned.”
He loved it when she used big words. He found it very amusing when she used big words. He wondered what crime he was supposed to be involved in. What did this fat cop want from him? Did he evenknowany fat cops?
“Afatcop, did you say?”
“Ohman,fat,” Aine said, and rolled her eyes.
“Did he tell you his name?”
“Detective Weeks.”
“From what precinct?”
“The Eight-Eight.”
“I’ll bet he thinks I’m involved in that diamond deal.”
“What diamond deal?”
“In Livvie’s report.”
“Who the fuck is Livvie?”
“The report she wrote.”
“Oh,thatagain,” Aine said.
“I’ll bet he’s after all those blood diamonds Livvie is locked up with in that basement,” Emilio said, and suddenly looked very sober, though he wasn’t. “Do you think it was her?” he asked. “Do you think she got out of that basement somehow? Do you think she might be somehow involved in the big dope deal going down? Though I have to say I didn’t see no dope down there, did you see any dope down there?”
“You know I didn’t.”
“Are you sure you heard the address right? 3211 Culver?”
“I’m sure I heard what I heard,” Aine said.
“Maybe we should check out that bar you located,” Emilio said.
“What do you think, Aine?”
“You got any more of that grass?” Aine said.
14
THE MINUTE OLLIEwalked through the door of his apartment, the phone started ringing. He ran across the room, and was breathless when he picked up the receiver. Fats Donner was on the other end.
“I found your opera singer,” he said. “Where can we meet?”
Ollie named a pizzeria on Culver and Sixth; what the hell, he thought, kill two birds with one stone.
“And don’t bring your kindergarten class,” he said.
“I’ll pretend I don’t understand that,” Donner said, and hung up.
Ollie grabbed a bite from the fridge before heading out.
IF DONNER WASremembering correctly, this was the same pizzeria where two hitters shot and killed Danny Gimp not too very long ago. This made him uneasy. He dimly recalled that the killing had had nothing at all to do with the profession he and Danny shared, but it still made him nervous to be sitting here in a public place with a cop as conspicuously large as Ollie, especially since he himself was not all that invisible. Such a pair could easily attract attention, he figured, and wished he’d asked Ollie to meet him at The Samuel Baths again.
“So who is she?” Ollie asked.
“How’d you make out with Herrera?”
“So far, he ain’t worth the deuce I paid you, and I ain’t all over him like fleas, either.”
“Maybe you’re not such a good detective, dad.”