Second message:
Same as the first, but Tina was winning the battle. If not winning, then fighting herself to a standstill. “Joe,” she said more clearly now. “Frank tried to…” That was as far as she got for ten seconds or so, choking up again. “He tried to hang himself. In jail, he tried to hang himself. They airlifted him to Stony Brook.” Click.
Joe grabbed his keys and ran out to the driveway. Twenty seconds later, he was back inside dialing a car service.
Pete Jr.’s demeanor was more like the night they first met at Jerry’s Joint. Healy remembered a department shrink once using the term “flat affect.” Well, that seemed to pretty much sum up the face Strohmeyer Jr. was showing the world this evening. It was more than just his expression, or lack thereof. He barely spoke to Bob. And for two hours they drove the streets of Farmingville and Ronkonkoma in the kind of silence long-married couples grow accustomed to.
“I’m sorry about last night, kid,” Healy said in hopes of getting the ball rolling.
Another half-hour passed before Pete Jr. made a sound. The silence and his own fatigue had lulled Healy into a kind of stupor. That, and the fact that he wasn’t as familiar with the streets in this part of Suffolk as Serpe might be, were responsible for him not noticing the kid had strayed off course.
They had turned north off Horseblock, up a huge hill and down the other side. Eventually they came to a wide, well lit boulevard Healy guessed was Middle Country Road, but further east than he tended to travel. The kid doused the headlights and let the car drift to the curb. He killed the engine. If there was something special to see, Healy was missing it.
“That’s the Blind Pig,” Pete Jr. said, pointing across the street.
If that was supposed to mean something, once again Healy failed to recognize its significance. Because of last night and his long day of checking out motels with Joe Serpe, he already felt off and slow-witted.
“I love her, Bob. I try not to, but when I try it just gets worse.”
Now Healy caught on. They were parked across the street from the bar where Cathy worked. Junior was obsessed with her. Bob had been in the same place once upon a time. Many years ago, he had stood across the street from an old girlfriend’s house, watching, praying, planning. Most men had been there. Men are fragile things. Women are the more resilient of the species. Men are brittle. Separate a man’s shoulder in a touch football game and he’ll continue to play until he can no longer breathe. Tell him goodbye and he breaks.
“I know how that is,” Healy said. “I know exactly how that is.”
“I want her back so bad it makes me crazy.”
Improvising, Bob chose not to push, not by himself, anyway. He would let someone else do it for him.
“You wanna go have a drink? It’s on me.”
Pete Jr. hesitated.
“No, I couldn’t stand to have her look at me the way she did that last time.”
“You can’t hide forever. I’ve tried it.”
“But-”
“Don’t worry, Pete. If you want, I’ll talk to her for you.”
Strohmeyer’s face lit up. Healy had uttered the magic words. Rescue fantasies never die, they just grow less ambitious with time. At Pete Jr.’s age, the dream of someone to set things right was still a powerful one. And with a father like his, the dream would be downright intoxicating.
“If I could only make her understand.”
“Well, let’s give it a shot.”
Once again Pete Jr. was out of the car before Healy had unbuckled his seatbelt.
Currently, Joe Serpe didn’t feel anything but sorry for Tina Randazzo. If he gave it any thought, he didn’t suppose he liked her very much. He had met her only twice in the three years he had worked for Frank. It wasn’t like on the force where there were parties with other cops and their spouses. The oil business was different. There was a purposeful separation between the job and family. It was a bit of a wild west business that attracted all sorts of fallen angels, and just the fallen. The oil yard was no place for a woman like Tina.
Tina was the high school prize, a unanimous selection to the All Star Wet Dream Team. She had done a lot of print ad modeling, put herself through the State University of New York at Binghamton, and was all set to turn the fashion world on its ass. Apparently, someone neglected to tell the fashion world. When the jobs dried up, lack of funds forced her to move back to her parents’ house in Babylon. It killed her to do it and she was determined to get out. Frank-roughly handsome, driven, successful-seemed as good a way out as any.
Frank had confided to Joe that Tina felt she had married beneath her station and that she wasn’t shy about letting him know it. That was just the type of thing to hurt Frank, a savvy, street-smart guy who’d barely squeaked by in high school and who’d lived by his wits. For years Joe Serpe listened to Frank pour his heart out about their marriage, but never offered advice. Who was he to give marriage counseling?
The curse of beauty is that when it shows cracks, the cracks show wide and deep. Tina proved the point. Her imperial thinness had turned against her.
“Joe. God, Joe.” She embraced him for a long time. He could feel her tears on his neck.
He pushed her back gently to arms length. “Tell me what happened.”
“They found him in his cell, hanging from a bed sheet.”
“What do the doctors say?”
“I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything. They’re only talking to the cops.”
He guided her over to a vinyl couch in the lounge. “The kids all right?” he asked.
“I sent them down to stay with my parents in North Carolina.”
“Okay. That was smart.”
“You went to see Frank yesterday,” she said. “He told me.”
“Yeah, when I left him I got into a car accident and spent the last night in here.”
“Are you-”
“I’ve got a concussion. I’m okay.”
“I’m glad,” she said automatically.
“Listen Tina, I don’t think Frank did what he’s accused of, but I get the sense that something else is going on here. First off, Frank would barely talk to me yesterday, said he didn’t want my help, and kept trying to get rid of me. And the other day, when you and I spoke and I mentioned salvaging the marriage, you said something like you didn’t think there was anything worth saving.”
Tina was silent. She hung her head, grasping the top of her Coach bag with both hands as if it were a lifeline. It was a familiar scene in precinct interview rooms. It was that last gasp at holding out, that second before the suspect decides to spill his guts or give up his accomplices. Joe knew that sometimes they needed a little help when deciding. So he helped.
“I think Frank was being blackmailed.”
Tina’s hands relaxed. She unclasped the bag, reached in and removed a clear plastic case. She held it out to Joe. “It’s a DVD. I got it in the mail a few weeks ago.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Take it home and watch it.”
“You sure?”
“We didn’t-don’t have a great marriage, Joe. A lot of that is my fault. But I really did-do love him. I just hope I get a chance to tell him.”
Joe took the case, sliding it into his jacket pocket. Then he held Tina’s hand. A malicious voice cut through the silence.
“Ain’t this a pretty picture? What’s a matter, Snake, you can’t wait? If you two want a room, I think that can be arranged.”
Before Joe could react, Tina shot off the sofa and was swinging wildly at Hoskins’ face. He was quick to take a step back, but not before she had landed a clean left hook. The diamond of her engagement ring left a nice gash under the detective’s right eye. It took both Joe and Kramer to pull her away.
Healy almost hated to see the expectant smile on the kid’s face. The smile didn’t last long. As soon as they stepped through the door into the noisy pub, the bouncer spotted Strohmeyer Jr. and headed towards him. None of this was lost on Pete. It hadn’t escaped Healy’s notice either.