Part 7 (2/2)
”What's the matter matter with you? This is the third gang-land murder at Bella Stella in five years! Why is it so hard for you to believe I'm just a law-abiding waitress who was unlucky enough to see the latest killing while working there?” with you? This is the third gang-land murder at Bella Stella in five years! Why is it so hard for you to believe I'm just a law-abiding waitress who was unlucky enough to see the latest killing while working there?”
”Because your story doesn't fit the evidence,” Napoli said.
”That does it.” I rose to my feet. ”I'm going home.”
”I advise against that, Miss Diamond.” He rose, too. ”You're a material witness in a mob hit. You're in danger now. I want to take you into protective-”
”No.”
Everyone on Mulberry Street must know by now that I had insisted over and over to Lopez and Napoli-as well as to Lucky-that I hadn't seen a thing. And whoever the killer was, he must know, too, that I hadn't seen him. So I didn't believe I was in danger of being permanently silenced if I went about my normal life. But I did did believe my normal life would get screwed up beyond recognition if I went into protective custody. For one thing, the killer might wonder if he was wrong and I believe my normal life would get screwed up beyond recognition if I went into protective custody. For one thing, the killer might wonder if he was wrong and I had had seen something, and that was precisely what I seen something, and that was precisely what I didn' didn't want him to start thinking.
More to the point, how was I going to go to auditions while in protective custody? Or earn money to keep paying my rent? And how long would protective custody last? A week? A month? Six months? Until the city ran out of money for guarding me? The rest of my life?
None of those prospects sounded good to me.
”I have nothing to do with whatever business got Charlie killed, and I saw nothing,” I said to Napoli. ”So the last thing I want is to be treated as if I am am involved or run my life as if I involved or run my life as if I did did see something.” see something.”
”You're making a mistake,” Napoli said.
”I'm a witness, not a suspect, and I'm tired. I've told you everything I know, it's late, so I'm leaving leaving.”
”You're not a suspect yet, yet,” he said ominously. ”But your behavior isn't helping your situation. And don't think that your personal involvement with Detective Lopez will protect you from the law, either.”
”I don't need protection from the law,” I snapped.
I slung my purse over my shoulder and stomped out of the squad room, wis.h.i.+ng a bad case of s.h.i.+ngles on Napoli.
It took me hours to fall asleep that night.
In my mind's eye, I kept seeing Charlie's shocked expression as he keeled over dead. I also kept remembering his ranting about how he was marked for death and nothing could change that.
He knew knew he was going to be killed. he was going to be killed.
I hated imagining what that must be like. Charlie had been a loathsome specimen, but I recalled his terror in his final minutes of life, and I felt sorry for him.
I also recalled Napoli's parting comment to me, and I wondered what Lopez was thinking right now, if he was still awake (which seemed likely-I suspected the cops would be working the case most of the night).
Napoli would be hard on him, I had no doubt about that. But did Lopez also think I was lying, since there was a discrepancy between what the cops thought had happened and what I had actually seen?
Oy. He and I really did have a lot to talk about. And, despite how much I had looked forward to his return, I wasn't looking forward to the conversation we were going to have.
It was very late by the time I fell asleep. And it was very early when the shrill ring of the phone startled me awake. I flinched, choked, rolled over, reached toward my nightstand, and grabbed the phone.
”h.e.l.lo?” I croaked.
”Were you asleep?”
”Who is this?”
”It's me! Lucky!” His tone suggested this should be self-evident.
I glanced at my alarm clock. ”Lucky? It's six thirty in the morning. On a Sunday Sunday.”
”I know. We need to get there early.”
”Where?” I asked, my eyes stinging from lack of sleep.
”St. Monica's.”
”The church?”
”It's a safe place to talk,” Lucky said. ”But we gotta get there before people start piling in for the first Ma.s.s.”
”I don't want to talk, I want to sleep.”
”Time enough for sleep in the grave,” he said.
”OhmiG.o.d!” His mentioning the grave made me remember what had happened last night. ”Charlie.” ”Charlie.”
”Yep, that's what we gotta talk about. Can you be there in thirty minutes?”
”What? Why? Why?” Then I remembered the cops' conviction that I was in danger. I sat bolt upright, suddenly wide awake as a terrible fear flooded me. I was being lured to my death! ”Lucky . . . do you have orders to b.u.mp me off?”
”What?”
”Are you-Is this-” I couldn't force out the words.
”Jesus,” Lucky said. ”Those cops really did a number on you, huh?” Lucky said. ”Those cops really did a number on you, huh?”
”I-I-” I panted a little.
”Calm down, kid. Breathe. Breathe Breathe.”
Feeling the first trickle of relief, I said, ”You're not going to kill me?”
”Madre di Dio, of course not!”
”I didn't see anything,” I a.s.sured him.
”No one saw anything,” Lucky said. ”It don't make no sense. I been instructed to find out what happened. Before the cops find out. That gives me some time, obviously, because they're idiots. But I still need to see you right away. You're the last person who talked to Charlie before he got whacked.” saw anything,” Lucky said. ”It don't make no sense. I been instructed to find out what happened. Before the cops find out. That gives me some time, obviously, because they're idiots. But I still need to see you right away. You're the last person who talked to Charlie before he got whacked.”
”I'm not sure about Napoli, he might be an idiot,” I conceded. ”But Lopez is very sharp. You don't want to underestimate him.”
”Then I guess I got less time than I thought,” Lucky said. ”Be at the church in twenty, instead of thirty.”
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