Romero stayed in the bathroom for what seemed like a long time. It might've been ten minutes, but that still seemed like a long time to view the body of a suicide victim.
The buzzer rang again. When I opened the door a young Asian guy with a camera around his neck was standing next to a red-haired guy with a beard.
"Police photographer," the Asian guy said.
"Medical examiner," the red-haired guy said.
I directed the men toward the bathroom, trying to stay calm. I didn't know why a crime-scene photographer and a medical examiner had been called to the scene of a suicide.
Several more minutes passed, and then Romero exited the bathroom. He exchanged some more words with the officers, then approached me.
"Mr. Miller, I want to give you my condolences," he said. "It must've been pretty rough, finding her in there."
"It was."
"Can we sit down?" he said. "I need to ask you a few questions."
"Sure," I said.
I sat on the couch and Romero sat across from me in the chair. I'd thought he was older when he arrived, but now I could tell that the gray in his hair was premature, and he looked like he was about my age, maybe younger.
"So do you have any idea why she would kill herself?" Romero asked. He had taken out a pad.
"No, not really."
"You have no idea at all?"
Figuring that, thanks to Carmen, he was going to ask me about the fight Rebecca and I had had, I decided to beat him to the punch.
"I mean, there'd been some tension between us lately," I said, "but I don't think she'd kill herself over it."
"Yeah, the old lady was saying, you two were having some kind of fight?"
"It wasn't a fight," I said. "We were in the process of breaking up."
"Is that why you tossed her clothes out on the street?"
"I really don't see what this has to do with anything," I said. "Like I said, we were breaking up. I admit it wasn't the most cordial breakup in the world. Maybe that was why she killed herself that was your question, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, that was my question," Romero said, looking down as he wrote in the pad.
"I don't get this," I said. "Isn't it obvious she OD'd?"
"Why is that obvious?"
I looked beyond Romero as I saw the EMS workers carrying Rebecca's body, covered by a white sheet. Everyone left the apartment except Fitch and Romero.
"We mopped up a little for you in there," Fitch said.
"Thanks," I said.
"The body will be taken to Bellevue for the autopsy." Fitch handed me a card. "You can call this number for any information you might need."
Then Fitch turned to Romero and said, "Should we stick around, Tony?"
"Yeah," Romero said, "I'll be done in a few."
Fitch left, and Romero and I were alone. I felt uncomfortable, suddenly remembering the pictures Kenny had taken.
"Are you okay?" Romero asked.
"Yeah," I said. "Fine."
He squinted at my face. "How'd you get that?"
"I fell the other day," I said, touching my lower lip, "leaving a bank."
"It looks like teeth marks."
Remembering how Rebecca had bitten into my face, I realized he wasn't referring to the healing fat lip from my struggle with Ricky.
"Oh, that," I said. "Yeah, they're teeth marks."
"Where did they come from?"
I shook my head, fed up, then said, "Rebecca bit me, all right? Like Carmen told you, we had an argument and it got a little out of control.
Rebecca was crazy she flipped out sometimes. I told her she had to move out and she basically attacked me. I was trying to get her off me, and she started biting me. Then I got angry and dumped some of her stuff on the street. I took a walk, and when I came back she'd locked herself in the bathroom. I saw the water coming out into the hallway, so I broke down the door and called nine-one-one."
"The medical examiner noticed trauma to the victim's throat. Do you know how that happened?"
"I might've grabbed her throat," I said, "trying to get her off me."
Romero had turned his head, looking back toward the kitchen counter at, I noticed, the empty bottle of whiskey.
"Were you drinking today?" he asked.
"Rebecca was," I said. "When I came home from work she was drunk and acting crazier than usual. That's when I told her I'd had it, and she came after me. Are you done with the questions?"
"Not yet," Romero said. "You said you suspected an overdose. Do you know what kind of drugs she might've been taking?"
"Rebecca was into the club scene," I said. "I know she took a lot of Ecstasy."
"Anything else?"
"Pot, coke, some meth."
"That it?"
"Far as I know."
Romero wrote in his pad.
"Was she depressed lately?" he asked.
"No, not really," I said.
"Did she ever try to kill herself before?"
"Not that I know of."
Romero was about to ask another question when the buzzer rang. Figuring it was officers coming back into the apartment, I pressed the buzzer, and, about a minute later, I opened the door, surprised to see Rebecca's friend Ray standing there. He looked like he'd been crying, and I knew the officers outside must've told him about Rebecca.
"Say it ain't true," Ray said. "Please say it ain't true."
Romero and I just looked at him.
"Fuck!" Ray shouted. "Why? Why'd she have to go do that shit?
Why?"
Ray started crying.
"What's your name?" Romero said to Ray.
"His name's Ray he was a friend of Rebecca's," I said.
"I'm Romero, NYPD. Did you happen to speak with Ms. Daniels recently?"
"She called me up before," Ray said, still crying, "like at nine o'clock. She sounded whacked, know what I mean? Started talkin' some crazy shit said she was gonna kill herself."
"Did she say why she wanted to end her life?" Romero asked.
"She was sayin' all this shit," Ray said. "Said she was a horrible person and all this shit made no sense. She was talkin' about him a lot too." Ray jutted his chin toward me.
"What about him?" Romero said to Ray.
"I don't remember all of it," Ray said. "She just said he'd been takin' a lot of shit out on her lately, and said he was bonin' some other bitch too."
"What?" I said.
"That's what she said," Ray went on. "Said it was some bitch, Angie."
"That's a total lie," I said.
"I ain't lyin', man," Ray said to Romero. "She was real mad about it too. I was like, "Take it easy, yo, chill," but she said she was gonna take pills and shit. I didn't believe her, man, but I told her I'd come by later anyway, just to hang out with her."
"Who's Angie?" Romero asked me.
"I work with a woman named Angie, but we're just friends," I explained.
"I have no idea why Rebecca would've said that."
"Yo, you think I'm lyin'?" Ray said to me, as if challenging me to a fight.
"No," I said, "I believe Rebecca told you that, but it's not true."
"Why would she lie?" Ray said.
"I don't know," I said. "She was always making up stories, getting paranoid. Come on, you knew Rebecca. You knew she was crazy, right?"
"Becky wasn't crazy, yo," Ray said. "She was a little wild, that's all."
"Did Rebecca tell you anything else on the phone this evening?" Romero said to Ray. "Did she say something else was bothering her?"
"Yeah," Ray said, "she said she was afraid David was gonna dump her ass on the street."
"Thank you," Romero said. "Can you wait outside, please, Mr…?"
"Ramirez," Ray said. "Yeah, I'll wait." Then he left the apartment, pulling on the door handle to make the door slam.