Bodies in Winter (32 page)

‘If all you were after was the product in Clarence Spott's car,' I finally said, ‘why did you have to kill him?'

‘Excuse me, Harry, but you are once again employing the word
you
very freely. We're still talkin' theoretically here.'

‘Answer the question, Linus.'

He flinched at my tone, his eyes hardening for a moment. Then he smiled a smile that amounted to no more than a twitch of his upper lip. ‘Do you think weasels are happy bein' weasels?' he asked.

‘You talking about the little animals?'

‘Yeah.'

‘I figure they probably have a hard time imagining alternatives.'

‘Good point, but that's not true for human weasels. Take Tony Szarek, for example. Now there's a guy, a weasel to his bones, who should've never come on the job. All he ever thought about was how to get over. Me, I'd rather cut my balls off than be a weasel, but Tony . . .' Potter shook his head, apparently in admiration. ‘But you were right about Tony. He was a happy man.'

FORTY-ONE

W
hat struck me, as Potter rambled on, was that responsibility for the taking of a human life was again being assigned to somebody who would never answer for the deed. The widow had blamed her husband's murder on the missing Dante Russo, who was probably dead. Now Clarence Spott's murder was being blamed on a man who was indisputably dead. Still, some elements of Potter's self-serving tale rang true.

According to Potter, Szarek had stolen David Lodge's Fluugmann blackjack months before using it on Clarence Spott. He'd done this because he was a thief in his heart, a facet of his personality so well known that he was the only partner at Greenpoint Carton not allowed to sign checks.

‘An asshole like that, you figure he deserves what he gets,' Potter explained, ‘but the Broom, well, he was always lucky. Ya see, Dante made sure that Tony and Davy lawyered up right away, the idea being to use the extra time to get their stories together. Only problem: Davy Lodge, he didn't have a story. He didn't remember a fucking thing. Now Dante Russo, he was a born schemer, like Tony was a born thief. When he heard about Davy's blackout, he knew just what to do.'

‘Frame David Lodge?'

‘As Dante said at the time, “Never look a gift horse in the mouth.”'

‘What about Ted Savio?'

Potter showed surprise for the first time. ‘Savio helped out when Clarence Spott was killed and Dante's been feeding him PBA business ever since. If there was something else goin' on, I never heard about it.'

If Potter's explanation of the events fit all the known facts, Szarek's motive remained obscure, even after all these years. Initially, the Broom told Russo that he'd been physically attacked by Spott and he was only defending himself. But after the autopsy proved that Spott was struck from behind, Szarek changed his story. The way he then told it, Spott had attacked him psychologically by suggesting a physical relationship between Szarek's daughter and the family dog. Though Szarek had neither daughter, nor dog, he'd felt obliged to avenge this deadly insult. As would any other red-blooded cop.

A third version emerged several years later when Szarek admitted (over drinks, naturally) that he was so drunk at the time, the murder of Clarence Spott might have amounted to nothing more than a passing whim.

Potter rose at that point, to re-fill his mug. This time he didn't empty it in one gulp. He set it on the table and wrapped his fingers around the glass. ‘Is that the works?' he asked. ‘You finished tellin' me how bad I fucked up?'

‘Well, there's the one item that'll eventually seal your fate. I'm saving that for last. But let me ask you this. Do you have an alibi for the time of David Lodge's murder? How about for the days leading up to DuWayne Spott's overdose in that hell-hole of a tenement? How about for last Saturday evening when my partner was attacked? You got an alibi for last Saturday?'

Potter laughed. ‘You forgot Dante. I need an alibi for him, too.'

‘Does that mean he's no longer among us?'

Again, Potter laughed. ‘I think I'll wait for the punch line,' he said.

I finished my drink, looked over at the bar, finally set my glass on the table. The last thing I needed was more booze.

‘You hooked up to the Internet, Linus?' I asked.

‘Gimme a fuckin' break.'

‘Hey, don't take that attitude. You can find out all kinds of interesting things on the web. For instance, I once stumbled across a CIA interrogation manual posted on this obscure bulletin board. Call it idle curiosity, but I printed the manual out and read it in one night. Interrogation has always been my strong point.'

‘Mine, too. Only I got a suspicion we employ different methods.'

‘That I wouldn't doubt. Anyway, the manual was pretty much a rehash of techniques you can read about in any textbook. But this one thing did catch my attention. The manual warned Agency de-briefers of a problem I'd never encountered. Terrorists and spies, it seems, are likely to have prepared fall-back stories to offer their interrogators if the pressure becomes intolerable. You understand, these fall-back stories are very elaborate and completely fabricated.'

‘You talkin' about Ellen Lodge?'

‘From the beginning, I thought I could break her.'

‘And you couldn't?'

‘Nope, Ellen had her fall-back story down pat: Dante Russo, Dante Russo, Dante Russo. She was so well prepared, I couldn't reach her. But I remembered this CIA manual as the interrogation went along, and that's how come I realized there was no way Ellen could've dreamed up this story on her own. It was too intricate, too complete. Somebody familiar with interrogation techniques had to provide the details and drill her until the words came automatically; somebody bold enough to insert himself into an investigation; a vain, narcissistic freak named Linus Potter.'

Potter wagged a finger in my direction. ‘You could go too far, Harry.'

As that was my aim, I ignored the remark. ‘You and Ellen Lodge, you wouldn't be an
item
, would you?'

At that, Adele snorted, a contemptuous honk that Potter ignored, though his eyes shifted as he considered the question. I knew there had to be a connection between them, and that the grand jury would eventually uncover that connection. Potter apparently knew it as well.

‘Don't talk dirty about Ellen,' he cautioned. ‘She's my cousin and we grew up in the same house. It was me who introduced her and Davy.'

‘Well, I got some hot news for you, Linus. Your family ties are not gonna cut it.' I shook my head as I repeated the message I'd sent to Ellen Lodge. ‘Conspiracy to commit murder carries a penalty of life without parole. Eventually, Ellen's gonna turn.'

But my news wasn't news at all. Linus had been all over this ground. ‘She will,' he admitted without hesitation. ‘Unless . . .'

‘Unless some co-conspirator, in a moment of panic, decides to kill her? Me, I don't want that to happen.'

‘So, you're here to protect Ellen? That's what you want me to believe?'

‘I got a better question, Linus. Do you think freaks are happy bein' freaks? I'm asking you this because you're a freak, so you should know the answer. And I'm not talking about your body. I'm talking about inside your head, where you live. You're so afraid someone's gonna see what's in there, you sit with your back to the room. But I'm lookin' directly at you now, so I can see the misshapen little freak hiding behind your eyes. He's a baby, that freak, an infant. Greed is what he knows, greed and envy, a kid who wants the tit every minute of every day. Are you gonna let the freak run the show, Linus? Are you gonna let the freak put you in a cell for the rest of your life? Are you that fucking stupid?'

Potter's eyes were shifting now, avoiding the unexpected onslaught. That I would challenge him this way in a public place had caught him by surprise.

‘Christ, Harry, you're hell on wheels,' he finally muttered. ‘Hell on wheels.' His eyes went flat as he completed the statement and I became unable to read anything in them.

‘Tell me about Paco Luna,' I asked.

‘The goose that laid the golden eggs.'

‘The eggs that had to be laundered at Greenpoint Carton?'

‘The very same eggs. Fact is, Harry, it was Luna who set up Clarence Spott seven years ago. Luna knew Spott would be transporting product because Luna sold the product to Spott in the first place. But you said something about an item that would seal my fate. I gotta admit, I'm anxious to hear what it is.'

I leaned back in the seat and allowed the air to fill with the hum of the refrigerator behind the bar and the faint buzz of a small neon sign in the front window. The sign's tubing was curled and twisted to form a tiny green leprechaun. Right eye closed in a leering wink, the leprechaun's head was tilted to one side. A line of script above his top hat announced:
HARP
.

Behind the bar, Mike was leaning forward, one elbow resting in a puddle. His eyes were hard-focused, his attention given over to our little drama. When Adele was the one to break the silence, Mike's head shot up as though he'd been punched.

‘Have you ever had sex with a woman, Linus?' she asked. ‘I don't mean a whore. I mean a woman who wanted to be in bed with you.'

Potter thought it over for a minute, his expression unchanging, then, without looking at Adele, said, ‘You're pushin' the wrong buttons, Harry.'

Adele replied before I could speak. ‘It was me who went to the DA. Don't blame Harry. I'm the one. If you have a complaint, you should direct it to me. That's assuming you have the balls to look a woman in the eye.'

When Linus didn't respond, I confirmed Adele's statement. ‘Would ya believe, Linus, that in spite of everything we did, all our efforts, an Inspector named Thaddeus Clark told me that I should mind my own business? That's why Adele went around the job, why she used her connections to push the DA into convening a grand jury. That grand jury, it's gonna look at everything, from Clarence Spott to Dante Russo. And what they're gonna come up with, sooner or later, is you.'

‘This I already know.'

I leaned forward over the table, my face gradually becoming more animated as I went on. ‘Look, here's the way I see it unfolding. The memory David Lodge recovers leads him to Pete Jarazelsky, who is then persuaded to come across with additional details. Nobody's fool, Pete soon warns certain compromised parties back in New York. There isn't any rush, since Jarazelsky's beating occurs six months before Lodge is released.' I paused long enough to take a breath. I was going to run a bluff here. Though I'd made a mental note to ask Deputy Warden Beauchamp for a list of Jarazelsky's visitors, I hadn't actually done it.

‘The first thing I asked myself was exactly who Jarazelsky contacted after the beating. The second thing was the means by which this communication took place. A phone call, a letter, or person-to-person. As it turned out, the right choice was door number three. The right choice was Linus Potter, who also visited Pete Jarazelsky whenever he went to see David Lodge, two good deeds for the price of one. Tell me, was Jarazelsky smart enough to hold something in reserve when David Lodge fell upon him? Like your name?'

Potter raised his mug and stared at the few inches of beer at the bottom. The beer was flat and he swirled the mug several times before drinking.

‘Seems like the last one,' he declared, ‘outta be better than that.'

He set down the mug and raised his eyes to mine. They were as opaque as ever, but this time I was glad. If I'd been wrong, Potter would have been unable to conceal his triumph.

‘When Davy cornered Pete down in the prison laundry,' he said, ‘it was like a gorilla dropped out of a tree to land on a kitten. Pete had no defense whatsoever. Now, ya gotta figure Pete was terrified, what with the rumors that Davy killed a guy in Cayuga. But Pete was smart, too, and he'd been inside for a long time by then. He only gave up Szarek and Russo.'

‘And that left you to play the good guy with David Lodge.'

‘Me and Ellen.' Potter lapsed into a momentary silence, his eyes dropping to the table. Finally, he said, ‘Davy couldn't be reasoned with.'

‘Neither can Pete.' I waited a moment, but Potter had nothing to say. We were coming to the end and we both knew it. ‘Being in Attica presents Jarazelsky with advantages and disadvantages. On the one hand, he's safe. Even if you kill them all, Ellen Lodge and whoever else is involved, you can't eliminate Jarazelsky. On the other hand, Pete's isolated. He has no idea what's going on down here. He'll find out, of course, and when he does, my bet is that he's on the phone to the DA within twenty-four hours. That'll be it for you, Linus, unless you move first.'

The phone rang at that moment. I think Mike Blair would have preferred to ignore it, but he finally stepped away from the bar after the fifth ring. When he did, Adele reached into her purse to withdraw the S&W revolver.

‘You asked before, about
why
,' she said. ‘About why Corbin didn't quit. Now, I'm going to tell you. Corbin would never admit this, but he takes crime personally.'

Mike Blair picked up the phone and muttered a few words into the mouthpiece. When he hung up and turned to find Adele pointing the .38 at Potter's head, he decided to remain where he was.

‘When you commit a crime on Corbin's watch,' Adele continued, ‘he sees it as an act of contempt. For him, it's like being challenged on the street. If you ignore the insult, your entire world implodes. This is a narrow view, and quite emotional at its base, but it's still a view that produces results. This was especially true in your case, Linus. In fact, your intrusion so upset my partner that he risked his career in order to bring you down. See, from Corbin's point of view, Linus Potter's decision to pit his intelligence and abilities against Harry Corbin's was more than a challenge. It was a calculated act of disrespect by a marked inferior. That's really why he came to Sparkle's in a blizzard. To show you that no pin-head freak can beat Harry Corbin at the game of policing. To show you face to face. Tell me something: how do you like it? Does it feel good? Does it feel as good, for instance, as hitting me in the face with a bat?'