"The name is Veilleur. The rest is difficult to explain."
Bill slumped under the weight of what he had done tonight. The fatigue was catching up to him.
"It can't be as difficult as what we just went through in there."
"No. I imagine not. But you did the only thing you could. He is at peace now."
"I hope so," Bill said as the detective jumped in on the passenger side.
"He is. I can tell."
Bill studied the craggy face and found that he believed the old man.
"But why?" Bill said. "Why did this happen to that little boy? He never hurt anyone. Why was he put through that hell?"
"Never mind the whys for now," Augustino said, lighting a cigarette. "I want to know who."
"I don't know the why," the old man said. "But I may be able to help with the who."
Bill twisted around in his seat; he noticed that Augustino did the same. They spoke simultaneously.
"Who?"
"Drive me home first. And on the way, tell me what you know about the one in the cemetery, and what brought you back to him now."
TWENTY-SIX
Pendleton, North Carolina
It was almost closing time when she found him.
Lisl's feet were killing her. She'd spent the entire night trudging the length of Conway Street and down some side streets as well. Toward the end she'd become desperate and searched through places she had no business even walking by, let alone wandering through. She endured the catcalls, the lewd remarks, the cheap feels. As far as she was concerned, she deserved every one of them.
And where was Will? He'd said he'd be starting at the south end and they'd meet in the middle, but she hadn't seen him since he dropped her off. She'd gone back to her car and had cruised around, looking for him, but it was almost as if he'd disappeared. She hoped he was all right.
Sometime after midnight, as she was passing near Ev's apartment house, she looked up at the third floor and saw a light in one of his windows.
He's home! Thank God, he's home!
Served her right. Here she was trooping all over town looking for him while he was sitting comfortably at home.
But was he sitting comfortably? Or was he dead drunk? An image of Ev lying on his bathroom floor in a pool of vomit flashed through her brain.
One way to find out was to call. She cruised a couple of blocks farther down the street, looking for a phone. She spotted a booth on a corner and pulled into the curb next to it. Her hand trembled as she fumbled a coin into the slot. What she wanted right now was to hear Ev pick up the phone and ask her in a perfectly sober voice what on earth she was doing calling him at this hour. Wouldn't that be wonderful? She wanted to learn that Ev was fine and that this entire night of anxiety and self-loathing had been for nothing.
Well, not for nothing. She'd learned an awful lesson tonight, and she'd looked inside herself and seen some things she was ashamed of, things she'd have to change.
But she had to talk to Ev first, make sure he was okay. That was top priority now.
But the pay phone was dead. It ate her quarter and wouldn't give her a dial tone. As she searched on foot for another, she passed a bar called Raftery's. She had been in there earlier looking for Ev. Maybe they had a phone.
Inside, Raftery's was dark and smoky and boozy-smelling, just like every other place she'd been in tonight. She remembered having high hopes for this place when she'd searched it earlier because it was the closest to Ev's apartment. It had been packed a few hours ago, but the crowd had thinned considerably now.
She spotted a pay phone on the back wall near the restrooms and headed for it. As she moved past the bar, still rimmed with drinkers, she spotted a solitary figure slumped in a corner booth. Thinning hair, a slight frame, glasses…
"Ev!"
She practically shouted his name. People stared at her as she pushed her way through the maze of intervening tables. She'd found him. But her initial elation was fading as she realized where she had found him, and her awareness of the shape he was in.
"Ev?" she said, sliding into the other side of the booth. "Are you all right, Ev?"
His bleary eyes focused on her through his glasses. For a moment he seemed confused, then his face broke into a smile.
"Lisl! Lisl, what a surprise!" His voice was loud, the words slurred. Her name came out Lee-shul. "It's so good to see you. Here, let me get you a drink!"
"No thanks, Ev. I really—"
"C'mon, Lisl! Loosen up a little! It's Friday night! It's party time!"
Lisl gave him a closer look to make sure this ebullient barfly was really Everett Sanders. He was.
Drunk as a skunk—and my fault.
She pushed back the self-recrimination. Plenty of time for that later. Right now she had to try to undo some of what she'd done.
"I've had enough for the night, Ev. And so have you. Let me take you home."
"Don't want to go home," he said.
"Sure you do. You can sleep it off there."
"Not home. Don't like it there."
"Then we'll go someplace else."
"Yeah. Someplace that swings! Not like this graveyard!"
"Right."
Someplace where we can get you some coffee.
She took his arm and helped him out of the booth. He swayed when he stood up, and for a moment she feared he might topple over. But he steadied himself on her. He could barely walk, but together they made it to the cooler, fresher air outside.
"Where're we going?" he said as she guided him into the passenger seat of her car.
She hurried around and got in the other side.
"To get some coffee."
"Don't want coffee."
"Ev, I want you to sober up. I've got to talk to you about some things and I can't do it while you're loaded."
He looked at her groggily. "You want to talk to me? You've never wanted to talk to me before."
The simple statement caught Lisl by surprise. The truth of it touched her as deeply as it cut her. She smiled at him.
"Well, that's changed as of tonight—along with a lot of other things."
"All right then. Let's get coffee."
She drove to the Pantry on Greensboro Street and ran inside while Ev waited in the car. She got two large coffees to go and hurried back outside. When she got back in the car, Ev was snoring. She tried to wake him but he was out.
Now what?
She could take him back to his apartment house but there was no way she could get him upstairs. Same with her place. She wished Will were here.
She opened her coffee and drank some. It felt good and warm going down. Getting chilly out and she wasn't dressed for it. Neither was Ev. The only thing to do was drive around with the heater on and keep him warm until he woke up.
She dreaded that moment. Because she was going to have to make a decision then about how much to tell Ev. But until then, she'd keep the car moving.
She put it in gear and headed for the highway.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Manhattan
Bill waited impatiently for the old man to return from his wife's bedroom. Apparently she was pretty sick. Sick enough to need a full-time nurse. And Veilleur appeared wealthy enough to afford one. Bill knew nothing about the current state of Manhattan real estate, but he knew a top-floor condo overlooking Central Park like this didn't come cheap.
During the drive from Queens, Bill had told Augustino and Veilleur everything—from what he'd done New Year's Eve all the way to Rafe Losmara's revelation that Danny was still alive in his grave.