The Garden of Betrayal

24

Reggie and I didn’t talk much on the ride back to Manhattan. He kept his police radio on and tuned to the Staten Island frequency. I heard the call for a patrol car to the gas station where we’d left Vinny, and a follow-up call for an ambulance. I rode with my head tipped against the passenger window, too emotionally spent to care. Reggie hung a left into Battery Park City after we emerged from the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel, hopping the curb at the end of Liberty Street and following the footpath toward the North Cove marina. We parked shy of a flight of stairs, with a view of the river. He turned off his headlights and lit a cigarette.

“You and me have a problem.”

I watched the lights of the Financial Center play on the water, listening.

“I’ll admit I screwed up tonight. I shouldn’t have let you come. That makes me stupid, because I let you get mixed up in something you shouldn’t have been mixed up in. But you crossed a line back there. I’m not a goon, and I don’t work with goons. I scare people, and I slap them around sometimes, but I don’t ever hurt anyone unless they’re trying to hurt me, and never if they’re defenseless.”

I straightened up in my seat, took a cigarette from his pack, and lit it. I hadn’t smoked since college. The first inhalation made me flushed and dizzy. I exhaled and took another hit, feeling my nerves steady.

“I hear you, and I respect your opinion. But I’d be lying if I said I felt bad about what I did back there.”

The statement was as much a revelation to me as it was to him. Reggie sighed.

“I’m not saying I don’t understand the impulse. I deal with scumbags all the time, and it wouldn’t make me lose any sleep to kick the shit out of most of them.”

“So, why don’t you?” It had never occurred to me that Reggie had any hard limits. I always assumed his methods adapted to meet the circumstances, regardless of what those circumstances might be. “Because it’s illegal?”

“Fuck legal or illegal. That’s for lawyers to worry about. At the end of the day, you’re a good guy or a bad guy. Good guys try to help people; bad guys try to hurt people. And if you start hurting people to help people, then you’ve crossed the line. It’s not that complicated.”

“I’m a father, Reggie. I know you care, but Kyle’s my son.”

“Why I shouldn’t have brought you along,” he muttered, sounding angry at himself. “Who knew you’d turn into fucking Joe DiMaggio on me.”

I took another hit from the cigarette, remembering the rage I’d felt when I swung the bat.

“Let me ask you a question. What happens if we find the car, and track it back to whoever kidnapped Kyle, but can’t prove anything in court?”

“We find the guy, and I’ll make the case. One way or another. That is what I do.”

“Always? Every time?”

“No,” he admitted. “Lot of random bullshit happens when you get into court. But the nice thing about scumbags is that they tend to do the same bad things over and over, so you almost always get another crack at them. I got a list. Some names I put on the list, some names I got from Joe, some names he got from his old partner. I know where they live, and I have the precinct cops keep an eye on them, and I watch the computer for crimes that fit their pattern. Most of them will end up in jail eventually. And the ones I don’t put behind bars I’ll pass along to my last partner, when it’s time for me to retire. That’s how things work.”

“Not good enough,” I told him, thinking about Claire again. “I need this settled. For me, and for my family. We find this guy and it looks like we can’t make a case, I’m going to have to deal with it myself.”

“And what about Claire and Kate?”

“What about them?”

“You can’t take care of them from jail.”

It was a testament to our friendship that he was able to home in on my vulnerable spot.

“True. But who’s going to know?”

“Me.”

“Right. But I’m not asking you to get involved. If and when the time comes, all you’ll have to do is look the other way.”

Reggie turned off the engine and opened his door.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s walk.”

We made our way to the river and then turned left onto the esplanade. The wind was up and the temperature had dropped. I flipped the cigarette away, buttoned my coat to the collar, and buried my hands in my pockets.

“Vinny tell you anything else?”

“Where Frank usually dumped the cars after he stripped them. In the swampland off the Arthur Kill, near Prall’s Island, on the western edge of Staten Island. He gave me a pretty good description. I’ll get a search team out there tomorrow.”

“You think they’ll be able to find the BMW?”

He shrugged.

“Cars last a long time in the water.”

I wanted to ask about bodies but couldn’t make myself say the words.

“Tell you what’s bothering me,” he continued. “Beyond your going vigilante. Vinny said the key was in the ignition.”

“So?”

“So, when the homicide detectives searched the room where Munoz was murdered, they found the key to his brother-in-law’s car in his pants pocket. Where’d the second key come from?”

I gave it a few seconds’ thought and came up empty.

“No clue. I can ask Gallegos if Munoz had more than one copy.”

“You think Gallegos was straight with you, right?”

“Absolutely,” I said, remembering the expression on his face when I’d told him about Kyle.

“Which makes me wonder about the girlfriend out on Long Island, the one Munoz was supposedly smacking around. Detectives interviewed the girlfriend’s neighbors. The neighbors said they heard a lot of fight noise coming from her apartment. Said she usually wore dark glasses and floppy hats but that they saw bruises on her face and arms. Doesn’t sound right if Gallegos was telling the truth about his brother-in-law being a kind and gentle person.”

“And the girlfriend would have had access to his keys,” I said, beginning to understand what Reggie was thinking. “It’s a big coincidence that she disappeared the same night he was murdered.”

“Exactly. The file has fingerprints for her that they lifted from the apartment. I’ll run a check in the morning, see if she’s turned up in the system.”

We reached the end of South Cove and stopped by the railing, facing south toward the Statue of Liberty.

“The big picture still doesn’t make sense to me. What does any of this have to do with Kyle?”

Reggie tossed his cigarette butt into the water.

“Don’t know yet. Police work is like that sometimes-you figure out the what before the why. All you can do is keep pulling at loose strings and see what happens. You think you’ll be able to learn anything about that bribe Gallegos mentioned?”

“I got a decent shot at it. I’ll start digging first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Good.” He turned to face me. “One more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You get it into your head to do something wild, make sure you talk to me about it first. Because you’re right that I wouldn’t want to send you to jail, but you might be wrong about what I’d do. I’ve had to make a lot of tough calls in my line of work. I’d rather not confront that kind of decision with you.”

“Agreed,” I lied. If push came to shove, I was going to do what I had to do, with or without his approval.

“Then let’s go get a drink. It’s been a long night.”