"Young girl," Mama sad, sitting down.
I picked up the receiver. "What?"
"It's me. Elvira. You said to call today. I told you I would."
"I need to talk to you. About your mother. About Train."
"Go ahead."
"Not on the phone."
"Maybe you can come here. I'll ask…"
"Never mind. I can come there, but I want to talk in private. Tell me where you'll be, I'll pick you up."
"I'm not sure…"
"Not sure where you'll be or…"
"I'm not leaving here."
"Elvira, I wanted you out of there, you'd be out of there. I'm going to talk with you, one way or the other."
"I'm not afraid of you."
"I don't want you to be afraid of me. I want to talk to you."
"And then…"
"And then you go back to wherever you want to go. And you never see me again. Okay?"
A long pause. I wondered who else was listening, signaling to her.
"Okay," she finally said into the phone. "Where and when?"
"Tomorrow morning. On the corner of Flatbush and Tillary. The Brooklyn side of the Manhattan Bridge. Ten o'clock."
"How long will I be?"
"Couple of hours."
"Goodbye," she said. Hung up.
104
NEXT MORNING, the Plymouth an anonymous hulk lurking just outside the remnants of the commuter traffic stream. Max in the back seat, black wool Navy watch cap on his head, heavy gloves on his hands. He was only wearing a gray sweatshirt- it wasn't that cold out.
She must have walked from Train's building. I spotted her a couple of blocks away, stone-washed jeans, a dungaree jacket, hair in a pony-tail. A kid cutting school. I stepped out of the car, waved to her. She broke into a clumsy little trot.
I opened the passenger door and she climbed inside, Max moving in behind her like water flowing over a rock. "Huh!" she said, surprised. I was sitting in the driver's seat by then.
"Elvira, this is my brother, Max."
She snuck a sideways look, mumbled "Hi," eyes downcast. I fired up the Plymouth, heading over the bridge.
"Where're we going?"
"To see a friend of mine."
"How come he's here."
"Just along for the ride."
"I thought we were going to talk private."
"Max can't hear. He's deaf."
"For real?" An off-key note in her voice.
"Yeah. For real."
We came off the bridge into Chinatown, tunneling through the narrow back streets to Lily's. Elvira fumbled in her purse, brought out a cigarette. Max snapped a wooden match, held it for her. She said "Thank you" in a finishing-school voice. Max bowed slightly. "Does that mean 'You're welcome'?" she asked.
"Yep."
"Can you…talk to him?"
"His name is Max. I can talk to him. So can you, you want to bad enough."
"Oh! How?"
"Think of what you want to say, then act it out. Like charades."
"Can I try?"
"Go ahead."
She curled her feet under her, tapped Max on his forearm. Pointed at him, then at me. Pinched her shoulders against her slender neck, spread her hands, palms up. Max pulled off his gloves, tossed them on the dashboard. Watching her face closely, he pointed at himself, then at me. Waited for her to nod. He tapped his chest over his heart. Reached past the girl, tapped me in the same place. Hard. The finger curled into a fist. The fist slammed into his open hand. That hand wrapped around the fist. The two hands twisted together until the fingers were intertwined.
"He is your brother!"
"Sure."
Elvira put her two hands on an imaginary steering wheel, pointed to me, pointed out the windshield, made a questioning look at Max. He shrugged his shoulders, pointed at me, nodded.
"He doesn't know where we're going?"
"He doesn't care. He's with me- that's where he's going."
WE PULLED up behind Lily's. Max got out. He'd go inside, tell them to open the back door for us.
I lit another smoke, offering her one. "There's a woman inside. Her name's Lily. She's a good friend. Of me and Max both. She's the one I want you to talk to, okay?"
"About what?"
"She'll do that part. All you have to do is what you say you always do…tell the truth."
"Is she gonna ask me about Train?"
"Not the way Reba asks questions."
I got a blank look back. Train didn't tell all his people how his fleshy polygraph worked.
"Never mind," I told her. "Lily's a certified social worker. You know what that is?"
"Like a shrink?"
"Yeah, sort of Anyway, the point is that she's not allowed to repeat anything she's told. Anything you say to her is confidential. That's the law."
"But…"
"Elvira, listen to me, little girl. You think any of those kids running around in karate outfits could stop Max? This talk with Lily- it's for you. I know you don't understand that. I know you don't trust me. You don't have to. We made a deal. I took you out of Train's joint and I let you go back. He can't stop me and my friends. I have to find out some things and I want Lily to talk with you. You do that and we're done."
"What if I don't?" Not pouting, curious.
"Then I'm going to ask Train."
"He said you'd be back. He's never wrong."
"You think about that. You decide how I'm coming back." I'd been searching for the right button. Tried one more. "You want to protect Train, talking to Lily's the way to do it, understand?"
"My mother…"
"Is out of this."
"She says you're hers. Her old boyfriend."
"What does Train say?"
"How did you…? He said you were nobody's child. That's what he said: 'That man is nobody's child.'"
"You know what he meant?"
"Maybe."
I threw my smoke out the window.
"I'll talk to her," the girl said finally.
The back door opened and I led her inside.
106
I INTRODUCED Lily and Elvira. Watched for the hundredth time as waves came off Lily, enveloping the kid, excluding me. "She has a calm center," Immaculata explained it to me once. "Like Max." They walked down the hall together.
Max was probably in the gym, wrestling with the kids. That wasn't for me. I had some time to kill, so I found an empty office, put my feet on the desk, closed my eyes. I had things to think about.
When I opened my eyes, Immaculata was sitting on the desk, her hand on my ankle.
"You're awake?"
"Sure."
"Burke, I don't have much time to talk. You must let Max help you. It is very important."
"Help me what?"
"Whatever it is you're doing. It doesn't matter."
"Yeah, big fucking help he is. You know what he did yesterday?"
"He told me."
"He tell you he almost turned a lousy roust into a Class A felony?"
"Max is your brother. He is in great pain. Men don't know how to take some things. Some gifts. He cannot forget what you did. To save our baby. What it cost you. He must believe he is helping you or he cannot feel whole."
"Mac, you know what Max does?"
"I am his wife. He is the father of our child. You remember when we met?"
I remembered. A night subway run. Me carrying the goods, dressed like a bum. The Mole at the other end of the train, a satchel full of explosives. And Max the Silent sitting across from me, looking like a tired, drained old man. Three punks got on the train. Looked me over.