Night Watch

THIRTY-FOUR

The three of us were standing in a corner of the well-appointed lobby of my building. “No, you are not coming upstairs to discuss this with me tonight. What is it, Mike? Are you going to tell me that you don’t believe me? Because if you do, that’s all the crap I’m going to take from you ever again. If that’s what you want to say to me, do it right here in front of the doormen and my neighbors. Tell me right now why you don’t believe me.”

“I believe you.”

“Don’t sound so lame when you say it. What’s your problem? Do you think I’m lying to protect Luc?”

Mike was slow to answer. “That possibility crossed my mind.”

“Get out of here. Mercer, take him home. I’m not kidding, Mr. Chapman. Get out of my building. Get out of my personal life.”

“Alex, he’s just baiting you.”

“I’m not baiting her, Mercer. She’s gonna marry the guy. Of course she’d lie for him.”

“I’m not going to marry Luc. I wouldn’t lie to protect him or you or Joan Stafford or anyone else. Where do you get your ideas?”

Silence.

“Did Luc tell you that? Answer me, Mike. Did he tell you I was going to marry him? It’s not happening. I don’t know the man who was sitting in that room with us tonight. I don’t want to go to a ball game with him right now, no less marry him.”

“Oh, Jesus, don’t start to cry on me.”

“I’m not crying. I wouldn’t give you the pleasure of thinking you could say something that would upset me.”

“Let’s take this outside,” Mercer said. The man with the wheaten terrier who was waiting for the elevator was staring at us like he expected me to throw a punch.

“I am telling you,” I said to Mike, ignoring Mercer for the moment, “that I had never seen the guy in that photograph before. Maybe the slit throat threw me off, okay?”

“Maybe if you saw him done up all in white, like with the sheet from the morgue over his body. Maybe he’d look a little spiffier in white, like he was dressed for your dinner in Mougins.”

The couple entering the lobby dressed in evening clothes had opera glasses and programs in their hands. She frowned when she heard mention of the morgue.

“I left that party before Luc did. Could be Luigi and I weren’t there at the same time.”

“Could be you had such stars in your eyes you didn’t see anybody but Luc.”

Mercer put his arm around my back and started to guide me to the front door. He had left his car parked at the end of the driveway. “Hollering in this fancy building is going to get you evicted, Ms. Cooper. A little fresh air will do us all good.”

“Have you got any photographs of Luigi in the car? In your case folder?” I asked.

“Everything but his prom picture,” Mike said.

We approached the old Crown Vic from the rear and Mercer popped the trunk. Mike reached in and grabbed his Redweld, stamped with the word HOMICIDE across the top.

“You’ve called the airlines and Immigration to see what his passport shows?” I asked. “Checked his travel history?”

“Believe it or not, they got DAs as smart as you in Brooklyn, Coop. You’re not the boss of everyone, you know.”

“I hope they’re smart enough to add Gina Varona and Peter Danton to their travel search list. France, Africa, who knows where else.”

“I’m on Night Watch all week. They’ll get me an update when I start working tonight.”

Mercer was still the peacemaker. “Mike’s working overtime for you, Alex.”

I looked away. “I guess that gives him double the justification to pile in on me. Is it that I haven’t thanked you properly for all you’re doing? You’ve overwhelmed me, Mike, with your kindness to Luc. You actually think I would lie to you guys?”

“’Course not,” Mercer said.

Mike handed me a blowup of the picture he’d shown me from his cell phone Tuesday morning. I held it at every angle. “No go. I don’t know this man.”

“Try the ME’s version of dress for success.”

The wound in Luigi’s neck had been carefully sutured. His hair was combed and his eyes closed, although his expression was not to be confused-as people often said-with that of someone who was sleeping. A clean white sheet was pulled up over his chest.

“This man and I were not at the same party at the same time.”

“Here’s a dozen photos his brother brought to the squad. Luigi Calamari at his nephew’s birthday party, Luigi in a tux for his cousin’s wedding, Luigi in sunglasses and a shirt opened down to his navel-looks like it was taken at the beach.”

“No, no, and again no. Good night, Detective. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me-for us-today.”

“Sounds anything but sincere, kid.”

“Must be the company I’m keeping.” I turned to walk twenty feet back to the revolving door of my building.

That’s when I heard the shouts and saw two men running from the entrance of the drive coming directly toward me out of the darkness, one of them screaming my name.

“That’s her!” the voice called out. “Ms. Cooper!”

“Get her,” the second guy yelled.

I froze in place as Mercer caught up with me.

A bright light went off-flashing twice, maybe three times-as Mercer pulled me against his chest and Mike took after the two men, who turned and ran.