The Mayor of Lexington Avenue

Thirty-four

Pat told Nancy all about the oral argument at breakfast the next morning at the Pelican. Even when Jack was in town, Pat never brought him to the Pelican. This was her and Nancy’s private sanctuary away from the office.

“Mornin’, girls, ya havin’ the usual this morning?” Dolly asked about ten minutes after they were seated. There were three other people in the joint at the time. If this wasn’t their special place and Dolly wasn’t their own very special incompetent waitress, they probably would have walked out. But they hardly noticed. It was business as usual and besides, they had a lot to talk about.

“I will,” Pat said, as she always did.

“I’m going to have poached eggs on whole wheat toast,” Nancy told Dolly. It was the first time she’d ever ordered poached eggs, but Dolly didn’t flinch.

“Youse both having coffee?” Dolly asked, as she did every morning.

“Decaf,” Pat replied, as she always did.

“Diet Coke,” said Nancy, which was the only “usual” she had.

Dolly wrote the drink orders down, never acknowledging that she had, once again, gotten them wrong. The woman was consistent.

“Do you really think they’re going to give Rudy a new trial?” Nancy asked after Dolly had departed.

“Maybe not a new trial-at least, not yet. But I feel confident and so does Jack that they will change the death sentence to life imprisonment. That will give us time to get an even stronger defense organized.”

“Good, because that’s what I’m working on right now.”

“You are?”

“I am. I’ve become friends with a woman at the police department and she’s telling me things. I mean, nothing earth-shattering yet, but she’s on the verge. It’s weird. As Rudy’s execution date gets closer and closer, I can feel that she’s going to bare her soul. She’s afraid, but something deeper inside of her is fighting to overcome her fear.”

“What is it that she knows?”

“I don’t know. She worked for the police department when Rudy was first brought in. She testified at his suppression hearing when Tracey James tried to suppress his confession.”

“Did you tell Jack about all this?” Pat asked.

“Not yet. Not until I have something concrete.”

“Time’s running out, you know. The execution is next week. Jack could force her to talk.”

“Pat, you know that won’t work. The woman won’t talk until she’s ready.”

As Nancy finished the sentence, Dolly arrived with Pat’s oatmeal and bananas, and two fried eggs with sausage and white toast for Nancy.

Nancy waited until Dolly was out of earshot. “At least she got close. I mean, I did order eggs.”

Pat started laughing. “You know, a good investigator has to start listening when a person is providing clues,” she said between fits of laughter.

Nancy was puzzled. “I don’t get it.”

“Well, what does Dolly ask us every day when we come in?”

Nancy thought about it for a minute. “She asks us if we’re having the usual.”

“Right-and I always say yes and you always give your order. Correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Has she ever gotten my order wrong?”

A smile of recognition spread across Nancy’s face. “She wants me to eat oatmeal and bananas every day.”

Pat almost spit out her food she was laughing so hard. “That was good-but you get it. She wants you to be consistent. If you’re consistent she’ll remember what your order is-at least food-wise. She’ll probably never get the drinks right.”

“What the hell is she writing on the pad, then?”

“Love letters to the cook,” Pat said. “I don’t know.”

It was Nancy’s turn to laugh. Pat was so good for her — for her and Jack. They were both so wound up, they probably would have killed each other by now-if Pat wasn’t around. She kept it loose.

“What?” Pat asked when Nancy kept looking at her.

“Nothing.”

“Come on. You’ve got to share.”

“All right,” Nancy said. “I was just thinking that I’ve gotta go into the kitchen to see what this cook looks like.”

Dolly heard the two of them laughing out loud from behind the counter and glanced over. What the hell are they always laughing about?