Melancholy Baby

55

Rosie and I were at our table in the corner at Spike’s, waiting for my father. He was on time, as he always was. It was why I was early. Being on time was hard for me. I saw him shake hands with Spike when he came in. And Spike walked to my table with him. They didn’t really understand each other, but neither of them felt a need to. They both cared about me, and I knew that seemed sufficient to them. When she saw my father, Rosie jumped up onto the table and wagged so hard I thought she’d fall off. My father picked her up and placed his nose against hers and gazed into her eyes.

“Never let anyone,” he said to her, “tell you that you’re just a dog.”

Then he put her back down and kissed me on the forehead and sat down. Spike brought us menus. My father ordered a veal cutlet with linguine. I ordered a tuna-salad sandwich. We both ordered iced tea.

“So, little Ms. Gumshoe,” my father said. “Whaddya got so far?”

I told him carefully — repetitiously, I was sure, but everything I could remember of every detail. He listened without a word, his elbows on the table, his thick hands clasped in front of him under his chin. When I was through, he ate some veal cutlet and a forkful of linguine. Rosie watched him carefully. She knew her chances of a forbidden table snack were better with him than with me.

“We both know the story,” he said after a time.

“You think?” I said.

“Sure. You still have to prove it. But you know that Markham had an affair with Lolly Drake about a year before Sarah was born. You know that Sarah is receiving money monthly from a charitable foundation apparently run by the wives of men who work for Lolly Drake. You know that Lolly Drake’s lawyer hired some people to chase you off the case. You know that he got killed when you started looking into him. You know that when Markham finally did the DNA test, he was killed shortly thereafter.”

“But it showed he wasn’t her father.”

“I suspect that was as much of a surprise to him as to anybody,” my father said.

“You think it’s Lolly.”

“Of course it’s Lolly. She got knocked up, she may not even have known who, but she told Markham it was him, for whatever her reasons, and he raised the kid. She sent money. Then, as things worked out, she became this moral standard-bearer of the airwaves, the apostle of love and loyalty, and it might have been harmful to her image to have abandoned her illegitimate child to a man not even her father.”

I nodded.

“Yes,” I said. “That’s what I think.”

“It’s what any good cop would think,” my father said. “How’s this guy in New York, Corsetti?”

I smiled.

“I think he might be very good,” I said. “You first meet him and he looks like some kind of thuggish city cop who spends his off time in the weight room, and he seems like a dope. Then you watch him talk to people for a while, and they all underestimate him, and you realize all of a sudden that he’s found out a ton of stuff about them. He doesn’t miss anything, and he doesn’t forget anything.”

My father nodded.

“You think Corsetti knows?” my father said.

“What we know?”

“Yep.”

“I’m sure he does,” I said. “But so far we haven’t any proof, and Lolly Drake has a lot of resources. We can’t just yank her in and sweat her.”

“You know what you’re trying to prove,” my father said. “You got a hitter to look for in both cities.”

“Might be the same guy,” I said. “Same MO.”

“Either way, you got two cities to look for him in. You find him, or one of him, whichever, and you turn him and the whole thing clicks in.”

“And,” I said, “we have Mrs. Markham. She doesn’t have a lot of resources.”

“Can the kid face up to her?” my father said.

“I don’t know.”

“Might be interesting, if she can,” my father said. “Get things stirred up, see what comes to the surface.”

“And,” I said, “I can’t believe that Harvey Delk can stand the heat.”

“Lotta guys like him don’t,” my father said. “Sharp guys, fixers, got a lotta power because they work for important people. Corsetti a tough guy?”

“Oh my goodness, yes,” I said.

“Then they run up against a tough cop who doesn’t care who they are, and all the savvy and secondhand clout dissolves and they’re offering you their soul at bargain rates.”

“That sounds like Harvey,” I said. “I’m not so sure about his lawyer.”

“Lot of lawyers for people like that have spent a lot of time closing deals from power positions — you know, do it our way or Lolly walks? It’s been a while since they banged heads with a street cop who might put their client in the hoosegow.”

“Hoosegow?”

“You gonna be a cop, you ought to talk like one,” my father said.

“It’s a funny case,” I said. “I know who did it, and I know why, but there’s no proof.”

“There is proof,” my father said. “There’s always proof.”

“I know.”

“You say Corsetti’s a good cop. Brian Kelly’s a good cop. You’re an excellent cop. And there’s too many people who got to keep too many secrets. You’re gonna win this one.”

He cut a small wedge of cutlet off and gave it to Rosie. She took it carefully from the fork and ate it.

“Daddy,” I said. “She’s not supposed to eat like that from the table.”

“I know,” my father said. “But I’m her grandfather. It’s permitted.”

I smiled at him. “Excellent?” I said.

“Yeah,” my father said. “You’re an excellent cop.”

He smiled.

“Pretty good daughter, too.”

“Even though I’m not married?”

“Even though,” he said.

“Mom seems to think it matters,” I said.

He gave Rosie another bite of cutlet, then grinned at me.

“Woman needs a man,” he said, “like a fish needs a bicycle.”

“I know,” I said. “That’s what she always says. I would say she needs you.”

My father nodded.

“Em likes slogans,” he said.

“You seem so ill suited,” I said after a little silence. “How have you stayed together so long?”

My father stared at me silently. Had I been a bad girl to ask? Then he smiled at me and patted my forearm.

“For God’s sake, Sunny,” he said. “We love each other.”