Chapter 41

After his impromptu meeting with Special Agent Stebenow first and Kaprowski immediately after, Levin had spent the rest of the night reviewing surveillance audio tapes. He was close to falling asleep when the doorbell rang. He yawned in Brice’s face when he answered the ring and had to squint to make out the fifty-dollar bill the junior detective was holding against his chest with both hands.

“He left it in my car,” Brice said.

“Kelly?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure, I already slept it must’ve been two, three minutes.”

Levin stepped back to let Brice inside.

“You want coffee, make it yourself,” he said. “I’m going straight to bed after you leave.”

Brice went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and took a beer. He brought it to the living room and sat on the sofa.

“He wanted me to go out for drinks with him,” Brice said. “After sitting in the car with him all day, he wanted to ‘spend some time,’ the way he put it.”

Levin sat in the armchair facing the couch. “You should’ve offered him a few bucks to go home.”

“Clever,” said Brice before taking a sip of the beer.

“Any callers?”

“What?”

“At Berg’s place. Anybody come back today?”

“Zilch.”

Levin yawned again, this time long and loud. “Why he probably left the fifty,” he said. “Keep your interest.”

“Keep it or feel for it?”

“Both.”

“You know he’s dirty, right?”

Levin rubbed his face to avoid answering the question.

Brice said, “You know because you’re investigating him.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

The detectives stared at one another until Levin lit a cigarette. He took a long drag, exhaled the smoke, and said, “Would it really make a difference?”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m only asking so you think it through, whatever’s on your mind. The man’s dirty, what’s an investigation got to do with anything?”

“If you’re part of it? Plenty, it seems to me. Where do I come in? How’m I being used in this? Are you selling me down the river, too?”

“You give yourself too much credit, kid.”

“And you’re a lying sack-of-shit rat bastard.”

“Hey,” Levin said, “that’s how you feel, there’s the door.”

Brice took a long drink from the bottle this time but didn’t move.

“Kelly say anything?” Levin asked.

“You want to get a tape or you have one running now?”

Levin didn’t respond.

Brice said, “Outside of his normal rants against the Italians, the Jews, queers and the black man? No, not really. Was his usual charming self. I offered to drop him off his car we were done. He mentioned going out for drinks.”

“And left a fifty when he got out?”

“It wasn’t my fifty.”

“It is now.”

“What?”

“You can mention it to him, you found the fifty in your car, but I doubt he’s gonna say it was his.”

“And then I’m guilty of taking a payoff, great.”

“You could wait and see if he mentions it first. Maybe he lost it. It fell out his pocket or something.”

“Yeah, right.”

Both men stared at each other.

“And if I don’t mention it, or if I do and he says it wasn’t his, and then I keep the money, I’m on the take,” Brice said. “It’s a lose-lose from where I sit.”

“Technically, but who’s gonna charge you?”

“What, you won’t? You’re my friend? I can trust you?”

Brice finished the beer. He set the empty bottle on a coaster on the coffee table. “I don’t want Kelly thinking I’m okay with it. I don’t want him assuming that shit.”

“Why it was a clever move, dropping that fifty,” Levin said. “You turn it in, the money, he knows he can’t trust you. You keep it, it’s an implicit acceptance.”

“I don’t want the money,” Brice said. “And I won’t rat.”

“Nobody will need your testimony, kid, so you can get off your high horse. A guy like Kelly, when the time comes, will give himself up and cut a deal before the cuffs are on.”

“That’s true. Or maybe he’ll kill himself and really make your day.”

“I’d rather see that than he cuts a deal. You feel sorry for him, I won’t.”

“Yeah, and what happens to me?”

“Why should anything happen to you?”

“It comes out you’re the guy behind busting Kelly, no matter he makes a deal or not, I was there and nothing happens to me, my rep is trashed anyway and you know it. Either I’m part of the bust or I’m a rat. Thanks a lot.”

“Nobody is gonna be sympathetic to Sean Kelly, I can tell you that much.”

“Or to me,” Brice said. “Why would they?”

“We’ll do what we can to help you out of it,” Levin said. “But I have to tell you this much, you can’t go anywhere with this or you will have trouble.”

“You prick.”

“I’m not a prick. I’m doing what I can for you. It isn’t much, but I don’t have to do anything.”

“Okay, so, what? I resign today or wait the week out?”

“I can’t tell you what to do.”

Brice set the empty bottle on the coffee table. He looked at Levin a moment, then started for the door.

“You can ride with me tomorrow,” Levin said. “I’ll note it officially I was forced to inform you of the investigation. I advised you stay with me. It’s the best I can do.”

“You busting him tomorrow?”

“That I won’t say.”

Brice turned toward the door.

“I’ll let you know,” Levin said.

“When?”

“When I know.”

* * * *

Even though he’d promised to put the money in the safe-deposit box the next day, Nancy knew that Louis would keep his distance until she could assure him it was safe to return.

In the meantime, she was supposed to learn how John was going to deal with the situation. She would arrange for John’s mother to watch Little Jack, and when she was sure it was safe, she would let Louis know. The problem was how to go about it, letting Louis know. Nancy had no clue where he was and was totally dependent on him calling her.

It was eleven o’clock when she finally made it home. She had eaten a slice of pizza after dropping her son at John’s mother’s house, where Nancy had hoped to hear something, but apparently John hadn’t called the old bag yet.

Nancy went upstairs to begin packing a bag just in case Louis called sooner rather than later. She was hoping it was Louis when she heard the phone ringing. She picked it up before putting down her purse.

“It’s me,” John said.

“Oh,” Nancy said. “How’d you make out?”

“Why don’t you tell me how you made out?”

“Excuse me?”

“Louis have the money?”

Nancy paused a moment. “Wha-what money? What are you talking about?”

“Jesus Christ, Nancy, how the hell could you do this?”

“Do what? What are you talking about?”

“I’m not the only one they’ll come after, you dumb shit. Remember you called the bar? They passed the message along to me. They’ll just assume you were part of it.”

Nancy felt the blood drain from her face. She braced herself against the kitchen table and lowered herself into a chair. “Part of what?” she said.

“Where’s my son?”

Nancy took a moment to compose herself.

“With your mother,” she said

“Good. Leave him there.”

“Why? What’s going on? What are you talking about?”

“I’m not going to argue,” John said. “I’m telling you to get in touch with Louis and tell him not to bet the money you two stole today because you didn’t steal it from me. That was mob money. They break legs for a fifty, never mind what that asshole is driving around with right now.”

Nancy couldn’t speak.

“Nancy?” John said.

“What?” she managed.

“Call him.”

She was about to say she couldn’t, that she didn’t have his number, when John hung up. The reality of her situation was jarring. She tried calling Louis’s apartment and counted ten rings before she gave up.

Nancy couldn’t move. How had John known she was involved? How had he known it was Louis?

The doorbell rang. She looked at the clock and saw it was ten-twenty. She went to the living room to look out the window. Two husky men were at the door. Cops, she thought; detectives probably.

She knew she was mistaken as soon as she saw their faces. Neither of the men presented identification. The shorter of the two did the talking.

“Mrs. Albano?”

“Actually, it’s, uh, Ackerman.”

“You know a John Albano?”

“He’s my ex.”

“Oh, okay. We’re friends of your ex. You know where he is?”

Nancy shook her head for effect. “No. Is something wrong?”

“How’s your kid?” the taller one asked. “You get him back?”

Nancy stuttered. “Ah, yes, wa-we did. Tha-thank you.”

“Can we come in?” the short one asked.

“Uh, I was about ta-ta-ta to go to to-to, uh, to bed.”

“You could let us in or we’ll break the fucking door down,” the tall one said.

Then he pushed her hard and she fell back on her ass. When she looked up, they were already inside.

* * * *

After John called his mother to check on his son and to warn her to stay put, he felt conflicted about scaring his ex-wife. Melinda wasn’t hearing it, saying Nancy deserved feeling scared and should develop ulcers for what she had done and that John was still being too god damn nice about it all.

“She’s the kid’s mother,” he told her. “Anything happens to her, it’s my son who suffers. She’s still his mother.”

Melinda bit her upper lip.

“I’m not saying she’s a model mother,” he said. “But she is his mother.”

“Then she’s the one should return the money she stole.”

“How’s she gonna do that?”

“Jesus Christ, John,” Melinda said. “She’s not half as stupid as you think. I’m sure she’s got quite the little stash someplace.”

“She won’t give up Louis. Those two have a history. A sick one, but it’s there all the same.”

“Is there even time to do any of that? These people will want their money right away, won’t they?”

“If they can squeeze more money out of it, they’ll take it like an annuity. They’ll probably charge interest on what was stolen and turn thirteen grand into twenty. It comes to money they’ll make whatever deal nets them the most.”

“Would they still hurt somebody?”

“You bet your ass they will,” John said. “I already owe them for nailing one of their own, the punk who broke my windshield. This, now they think I’m involved, they’ll come after me with baseball bats.”

“Jesus Christ. What about the police?”

“No thanks.”

“Why not?”

“They can’t do anything that can help. And if Eddie Vento thinks I went to the police, they’ll put a contract out on me.”

“Contract?”

“I’m not going to the police, Melinda, so let’s drop it.”

She covered her head with both hands.

“You okay?” he said.

“No, I’m not.”

“You got aspirins?”

“Aspirins, Jesus Christ. Look, stop worrying about other people for a minute. Worry about yourself.”

“I’m gonna have to give myself up,” John said. “Or they’ll go after Nancy and maybe my kid. I can’t risk that.”

“That’s crazy. I have a few dollars. I can help.”

“No way, Melinda, forget it. I still feel like a deadbeat for when you paid for my coffee.”

“If you tell them you have money and they see it comes from me or somebody else, you make them go with you to the bank, they’ll have to believe you were robbed. You can pay me back later. I don’t need the money. It’s just sitting there anyway. It’s not going to make me rich.”

“And how do I pay you back?” John said.

“Whenever, I don’t care.”

“No.”

“John, damn it.”

“No.”

“Forget your pride for two minutes,” Melinda said. “This is your life we’re talking about.”

John glanced up at the clock. “Can I borrow your car?”

“What? Why? Where are you going?”

“To see Nancy.”

“What for?”

“Convince her to leave my son at my mother’s, for one thing. Maybe she knows where her ex is and I can get the money back before he blows it.”

“You going to protect her now?”

“Jesus Christ, Melinda.”

Melinda was clenching her teeth. “Go,” she said.

“The keys?”

She got them from her purse. He leaned in to kiss her on the mouth. She turned her head and he kissed her cheek instead.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Be careful,” she said.

He started for the door, stopped to look back at her, then nodded and was gone.

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