Night Passage

Chapter 45

Finding Tammy Portugal’s husband had been easy. The alimony check had been cashed at the Paradise Bank and the address was printed on it. Jesse drove out to Springfield and talked with him at 10:30 a.m. in a coffee shop on Sumner Avenue at an intersection called the X. The restaurant was out of the 1930s. Glass brick, and a jukebox near the kitchen.

“I’m a loser,” Bobby Portugal said to Jesse. “Tammy thought she was marrying a winner, but that was just my bullshit. I been a loser since I graduated high school.”

Portugal was medium height and husky. His dark hair was longish and he had a neatly trimmed beard. He wore a Patriots warm-up jacket over a gray tee shirt and jeans.

“We went together in high school. I was a big jock in high school. Running back, point guard. She thought I was a big deal.”

The waitress brought an order of English muffins for Jesse and a fried-egg sandwich for Portugal.

“Made All-North Shore League, junior and senior year, football and basketball. Got a partial scholarship to B.C.”

Portugal paused while he peeled off the top layer of toast and poured ketchup on the fried egg.

“And when you got there,” Jesse said, “everybody had made all-league and a lot of the leagues were faster than yours.”

“You better believe it,” Portugal said.

He took a bite of his sandwich and put it down while he pulled a paper napkin from the dispenser on the table and wiped ketchup from the corner of his mouth.

“I lasted six weeks,” he said. “And quit. Went to work for the highway department in town. Thought I was making a ton. Tammy and I were still going out, and she got pregnant, and...” Portugal shrugged and shook his head. He picked up his sandwich and held it for a moment and put it down. His eyes filled and he turned his head away from Jesse.

“Take your time,” Jesse said.

Portugal continued to sit with his head turned. Without looking he pushed his plate away from him. Jesse waited. Portugal took in a deep breath and let it out. He did it again. Then he straightened his head and looked at Jesse. His eyes were wet.

“We got married,” he said. “She still thought I was a big deal. Nineteen, money in my pocket, a star in the Paradise softball league. She was thrilled to be marrying Bobby Portugal.”

Portugal’s voice was perfectly calm. Remote, Jesse thought, as if he were talking about people he knew casually, and found mildly interesting. Except that he was teary.

“And then we had the babies and two hundred and fifty bucks a week didn’t look like so much. I tried selling Amway for a while. That was a joke. I tried insurance, got through the training program and got fired. I didn’t earn much money, but I played a lotta ball with the guys and drank a lotta beer. Finally she dumped me. You blame her?”

“What are you doing out here?” Jesse said.

“Security guard. Downtown at the big mall. When I get off work, I got a room with a sink in the corner and bathroom down the hall. You ever play ball?”

“Some,” Jesse said. “Why Springfield?”

“I had to get away from Paradise,” Portugal said. “This seemed far enough. Nobody ever heard of me here.”

“Tell me where you were Tuesday night.”

“Did my shift at the mall till ten. Had a date. Girl works at the mall. Got home around three-thirty, she spent the night. That when she was killed? Tammy? Tuesday night?”

“Can I talk with the woman you dated?”

“You gotta?”

“Be good to know what you were doing that period of time.”

“Yeah, if you gotta. But can you be sort of cool about it? Her old man is a long-distance trucker. When he’s out of town we... we got a little arrangement.”

“I can talk to her at work,” Jesse said.

“Okay. Her name’s Rosa Rodriguez, she works in the little candy kiosk in the mall.”

“Can you give me the address of the mall?” Jesse said.

Portugal told him and Jesse wrote it down.

“You own a car?”

“No. With my alimony? Mostly I ride the bus. Buses are pretty good here. I guess there’s no more alimony, is there?”

“Child support,” Jesse said.

He nodded.

“They okay?” he said.

“Your children?”

“Yeah.”

“They’re with your mother-in-law.”

Portugal nodded.

“You wanna give me the name of your supervisor, please?” Jesse said.

Portugal told him.

“What time you get to work on Wednesday?”

“Ten a.m. About five hours’ sleep. Man!” Portugal shook his head. “You think I done it?”

“Not if your story checks,” Jesse said. “She was out clubbing, probably, Tuesday night, there was alcohol present. You know any of her favorite places?”

Portugal shook his head.

“No favorites,” he said. “I know she used to go out once a week, but she’d never go the same place. Didn’t want to get a reputation, you know. Bad for the kids, she said. So she wouldn’t go to any place regular. She’d always go where nobody knew her. She was a good mother, man.”

“Sorry to have to ask, but did she go to meet men, you think?”

“Yeah, sure, why wouldn’t she? We was divorced. She was free. She liked sex, I know that. I mean that’s pretty much what we had was sex, and after a while, when I wasn’t working and didn’t do much but play ball and drink with the guys, we didn’t even have that.”

“Because she didn’t want to?”

“Because I wasn’t much good,” Portugal said.

“Too much defeat,” Jesse said.

“And beer,” Portugal said. “Way too much beer.”

“You got an arrangement with the trucker’s wife, though,” Jesse said, and smiled. “Looks like you’re making a comeback.”

Portugal shrugged.

“Arrangement is just that, we both like to get laid, it don’t mean much.”

“You have any thoughts on who might have killed your ex-wife?”

Portugal’s eyes teared again, he lowered his head.

“No,” he said.

They talked in the anachronistic restaurant for nearly an hour. Jesse asked about male friends of the deceased, about female friends. Had she ever worked anyplace? Had she any enemies? Had she any enemies? Did she have debts? Did he? How often did he see her? When had he last seen her? When it was through, Jesse paid the small bill and they left the restaurant. The fried-egg sandwich remained uneaten on Portugal’s plate.

“I wasn’t such a loser,” Portugal said, “she’d be all right. She figured she was marrying Mr. Big, guy that was going somewhere. And look where I took her.”

“Maybe you’re taking on more than you need to,” Jesse said.

“And maybe I ain’t,” Portugal said.

Jesse had nothing else to say about that and he got in his car and drove away while Portugal stood on the corner looking down Sumner Avenue at Jesse’s receding car.