“Thank you, sir.”
“You got a phone book back there, chum?”
“Yessir.”
“Bring it here.”
Karras found Recevo’s number and address in the book. He was not surprised that Joey hadn’t moved — he still had that one-bedroom affair off Georgia, up there near Fort Stevens. Karras carried the book over to the in-house booth, closed himself inside it as he settled onto the bench. He dialed Recevo’s number.
“Hello?”
“Joe?”
“Speaking.”
“Pete Karras.”
And then there was a silence. Karras half-expected it. He reached into his jacket for a cigarette, decided against it, pulled his hand out.
“Pete, you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. And I’m gonna make it quick. This isn’t a social call.”
Recevo said, “Go ahead.”
“You know about those whore murders been goin’ on the last few years?”
“Sure, I know.”
“Well, this is gonna sound crazy to you. But the guy who’s been openin’ up those punchboards, he’s in bed with Burke. In fact, he’s been sittin’ on his fat ass right next to you in that office of yours all this time.”
“What?”
“I’m tellin’ it to you straight, Joe. The killer is Gearhart.”
“What the hell...”
“Yeah.”
Dead air. And then: “How do you know?”
“I couldn’t prove it with a gun to my head. But I got more than a real strong hunch. Don’t ask me how it came to me, ’cause I won’t tell you. You’re just gonna have to trust me. Gearhart is the one.”
“You got a witness to any of this?”
“No.”
“Well, let’s just say it’s true. What the hell am I supposed to do about it?”
“You gotta get this Gearhart monster off the street. And I mean all the way off — don’t go sending him out of town or anything cute like that. Because a bolthead like that is just gonna go on and do the same thing somewhere else. And Joey, Goddamnit, you know that’s wrong. You and me, we did some bad things, but this isn’t even in the same ballpark. It’s just all the way wrong.”
“You tellin’ me I gotta take this to Mr. Burke?”
“That’s a start.”
“But I gotta know somethin’, Pete. I gotta know how Gearhart got found out — at least where it started. I can’t go to Burke with this without a source. Otherwise, he’s not gonna believe a word I said. I swear to you, I’m not gonna tell him nothin’ about you—”
“I don’t give a good goddamn what you tell him.”
“Give me something, then.”
“The ball started rolling at the Hi-Hat. The night man who works behind the stick there, he’s retailing women.”
“That’ll help.”
“Then we’re done.”
“Listen, Pete—”
“Forget it. And Joey...”
“Yeah?”
“One more thing. I wouldn’t mind if you guys decided to take care of Gearhart your own way. But if you decide to do it the straight way — turn him into the law, I mean — promise me you’ll let Jimmy Boyle take him in.”
“Boyle still walkin’ that beat?”
“Uh-huh. And he’s lookin’ to earn his detective’s shield. You and me, Joey, we got the opportunity to do somethin’ right here. You understand?”
“I get it, Pete. I can reach Boyle at his old address?”
“Right. That covers it, then.”
“Wait a minute.”
“What?”
“I’m curious about somethin’. Burke sent a guy by name of Bender to look for Nick Stefanos and the rest of you.”
“So?”
“I was just wonderin’—”
“He found us.”
Recevo said, “Nice talkin’ to you, Pete.”
“Yeah,” said Karras. “You too.”
Karras cradled the receiver. He stared at the phone, brushed his fingers across the mole on the side of his mouth.
Joe Recevo dialed Burke.
“Mr. Burke, it’s Joe.”
“Yes?”
“You alone?”
“Yes.”
“Gearhart around?”
“He’s down in the living room with Reed and a couple of the others.”
“Good. There’s something I gotta tell you.”
Recevo gave it to Burke straight down the middle. When he was done, Burke sighed audibly into the phone. Recevo could hear the jangle of cubes bouncing off the side of a glass.
“Who tipped you to this?”
“A guy I know was in the bar of the Ambassador Hotel the other night.”
“The Hi-Hat?”
“Yeah. He saw Gearhart put his order in for a hooker from the barman. The tender there doubles as a middleman pimp. The order fit the description of the woman who got herself chilled. Fit it to a T.”
“Lot of fat whores around. That doesn’t prove a thing.”
“No. But suppose there’s something there. The law’s gonna be deep into our business, and quick.”
“Yes, I see your point. Who was your informant?”
“Like I say, just a guy. A jamoke who’s seen me around with Gearhart, knows we’re in the same outfit. He was doin’ me a favor, but he doesn’t want any part of it from here on out. He won’t talk to anyone, and he knows what would happen if he did.”
“Hmm.”
“Mr. Burke.”
“Okay, Joe. I’m going to bring Gearhart upstairs, have a little talk with him. Can you come by?”
“Yessir.”
“And Joe? Good work.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Recevo cut the line. He put on his topcoat, creased the brim of his fedora, placed it just so on his head. Lois Roman came into the room.
“Where you off to, Joe?”
“Business. Come over here and let me give you one.”
Lois walked to him, smoothing her skirt out against her thighs. He crushed his lips against hers, pulled back, looked thoughtfully into her eyes. Then he kissed her the same way, one more time.
Lois smiled. “What was the second one for?”
“It just felt so good, I had to hit it again.”
“Don’t be too late.”
“Love you, baby.”
Recevo patted Lois’s behind, broke away. She watched him march quickly across the room, a cocky spring in his step.
“I love you, Joey,” she said.
But he was already gone.
Karras took a cab into Southeast, left the driver idling at the curb along the 4500 block of Alabama Avenue. It was a workingman’s afternoon, and a Monday at that, with little activity on the street.
Karras limped up the concrete steps to the row house door, took the entrance to the common foyer. He knocked on the door marked 1. The force of his knock pushed the unlocked door inward by a foot. Karras stepped inside.
The landlord owned the furnishings, and they were there, but other than that the place had been stripped. The closet had been left open and empty, its wooden rod holding a row of bent wire hangers. A half-inch of gray water remained in a lipstick-stained glass sitting alone atop the cheap dresser.
Karras went to the window. He bent forward, picked up the theater ticket fallen between the radiator’s tubes. He rubbed his finger along the dried blood smudged across the word Hamlet. Karras dropped the ticket, watched it float back to the floor.
He walked from the room and straight out to the street. He settled in the backseat of the cab, fitted a cigarette between his lips.
“Where to, mac?” said the cabbie.
Karras said, “Chinatown.”
Recevo passed Face in the grand foyer, saw the Welshman and Medium and a few of the others sitting around in the living room as he hit the stairs. He went up to the landing, cut right. Reed was leaning against the wall, smoking a Fatima outside the closed door of Burke’s office.