As Teddy was saying to the PR guy in the snappy straw, “See, I don’t know how long I’m gonna be here. Maybe just a couple days and I can’t take weed home on the plane with me. Can I? Why don’t you roll me five joints? I bet you roll ’em they’re like tailor-made.” The PR guy got out a shoebox…
Teddy could see himself on that program talking to Chuck Woolery. Chuck asking if the date was a success and him saying, well, she didn’t go for the raw fish too much, Chuck, but she sure raved when I put the meat to her. See what old Chuck’d say to that.
The women and the skinny PR guy in the living room were discussing the date in Spanish, arguing, yelling at each other. While the PR with the snappy straw had his shoebox open and was showing him other products would be good for a short stay. Cocaine, percs, ludes… It was time to make his move. What he’d come for.
Teddy looked up from the box and said, “No, I don’t think so. I’ll tell you what, though.” He took 200 dollars worth of folded twenties out of his pocket and got set to peel them off one at a time. “I bet you got a gun you could sell me. A pistola. Am I right or wrong?”
VINCENT WALKED PAST the open-air front of the restaurant, along the boxed hedge. The blue canvas bag hung from his shoulder. He spotted Teddy right away. Teddy wearing a red knit shirt, in there among the hanging plants and green oilcloth-covered tables. Tourist with camera case, head lowered, ordering a late breakfast from the placemat menu. Vincent continued along Ashford Avenue to Walgreen’s and dialed the number DeLeon had given him.
“This better be important.”
“I wonder if you’d do me a favor.”
“Your house could be on fire, but I’d never tell from your voice, would I?”
“Pick up the cab driver’s wife and drop her off at Consulado. You know where it is?”
“Everybody knows where Consulado is.”
“Teddy’s there.”
“Hmmm, I like to see that.”
“Better hang back. We don’t want to gang up on him.”
“Just shake him some if you can. Scare him?”
“You never know.”
“You don’t know what you interrupted here.”
“You have to rest sometime.”
“I do?”
Teddy was eating pancakes with one hand, holding onto his plastic glass of Coke with the other. Vincent wasn’t sure if he could watch him: Teddy cutting a big wedge out of the stack, shoving it into his wide-open mouth, then taking a sip of the Coke before he began to chew. Vincent sat down at the table-for-four across the aisle, hung the canvas bag from the back of his chair.
Teddy, hunched over his plate, turned his head to look past his shoulder. “ ‘Ey, we got a stop meeting like this.”
Was he honestly off the wall or pretending to be? Playing the nerd. Eyes with a watery glaze this morning. Hungover? Maybe. He didn’t seem on guard or the least concerned. Vincent could be someone from back home… An old pal thinking how simple it would be reach into the back of his pants beneath his jacket, pull out the old Smith and put him away. One shot. There. Tell the waitress, let’s see, I think I’ll have the eggs over easy.
“What’re you following me for? It won’t do you no good.”
“I’m not following you.”
“What’ve you been doing all morning? I saw you go by here.”
“You used to follow me,” Vincent said, “take pictures… What were the pictures for? You mind if I ask you?”
“What’ve you got, a wire on you?”
“Come on, you’re off the hook, you know it. I’m not trying anything. I’m curious, that’s all.”
“Why’d I take pictures? I’ll tell you,” Teddy said, his mouth full. He paused to take a drink of Coke, work his tongue around in his mouth. “I wanted to look at your face.”
“Why?”
“See how you look at people.” Teddy squared around to face Vincent directly. “See if you look at them the same way you look at me.”
“How do I look at you? I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Tough shit. That’s all I’m saying on that particular subject at this time. It may come up again, but we don’t know for sure or when… Now you want to talk, it looks like. On the airplane, when you were so sure my ass was going to jail, you didn’t have a word to say, did you? No, you and that big jigaboo sat there laughing with each other-oh boy, are we having fun, taking Mr. Magic to jail. I thought sure you’d want to ask me some questions then.”
“Can I be honest with you?” Vincent said.
“Well, please do.”
“I was afraid if you said anything I might open the door and throw you right out of the fucking plane. But I got over that.”
Teddy moved his shoulders, acting cute. “Oh, you’re not mad at me no more?”
“What can I do?” Vincent said. “I’ve been a policeman fifteen years. I know when I bring the state attorney, the prosecutor, evidence and he says it’s not enough, okay, that’s it. I’m not gonna go around the law just because I think the guy’s guilty.”
“What about getting me out on that ferry? That wasn’t nice.”
“Well, that was different. I was trying to keep you from doing something dumb. You know what I mean? I was trying to scare you, get you thinking straight.”
“I got lost,” Teddy said, “took me two hours, easy, get back to the hotel. First those two PRs take me out there, not knowing where’n the hell I am. Then you step out of that other car… You think I wasn’t scared?”
“But not enough,” Vincent said. He eased back in his chair, looking down at the placemat menu. “Well, it doesn’t matter now anyway, does it?”
“What doesn’t matter?”
“I thought you could take a fall on any of three homicides, no problem. But, I was wrong.”
“Wait a minute. What three?”
“The cab driver-I know you did him. But that’s neither here nor there. The woman and Iris.”
“What woman?”
“The one underneath the Boardwalk. Beaten to death, raped. That sounds like our Teddy.”
“Her name was Marie, I believe.”
“Anna Marie Hoffman.”
“Yeah? That her name?”
“And there was Iris. But I don’t think now you did Iris.”
“Yeah? Why not?”
“I think it was some other creep. You’re not the only creep in the world, Ted. There could be millions.”
Teddy said, “Is that right?” Face drawn tight as he picked up his camera case from the table and came over. “You think it was some creep, ‘ey?” He pulled the chair out across from Vincent and sat down, the camera case in his lap now, looking right at Vincent, Vincent lying back, waiting, Vincent very happy with the way it was going. “I hear she did a double back flip off that balcony,” Teddy said. “I hear it wasn’t a bad dive, but she only scored an eight-point-five. You know why? She didn’t keep her feet together.”
Vincent had to wait a moment. He picked up his glass of water and took a sip. He had to let himself ease back down.
“I understand she didn’t scream,” Vincent said. “I wonder why.”
Teddy shrugged his shoulders, staring at Vincent. “Maybe she was dead or close to it. Can’t they tell things like that? Do some tests?”
“It takes time,” Vincent said.
“Or maybe she was on something, you know, like ludes, and had passed out.”
“Iris didn’t do that kind of stuff.”
“She didn’t? Maybe somebody talked her into it. Take that bitchy edge off her. But maybe she was worn out and it got to her quick. You know? Can’t you figure things out? Speculate on it? Hell, I’m the one ought a be the dick. I’ll tell you something though. You can keep surveillance. I don’t want any parts of surveillance work. Other than following some stove-up cripple walks with a cane.” Teddy grinned. “That’s different.”