Part 20 (1/2)

”The most likely,” Lucky agreed.

”Unless Doctor Dapezzo had indeed been replicated, too,” Max pointed out.

”We need to find out for sure,” Lucky said, casting an accusatory glare at his silent cell phone.

”And there's something else we need to find out,” I said. ”Where are Charlie's and Johnny's doppelgangsters now now?”

Lucky's jaw dropped. ”Holy Mother!”

Max's eyes widened. ”Of course! Why didn't I I think of that?” think of that?”

”Charlie ate dinner a second time at Stella's on Thursday without being aware it was his second visit of the evening. Or so he said. So we can theorize that Lucky and I saw his doppelgangster that evening, though we still have no idea which diner was Charlie and which was the double,” I said. ”Johnny's doppelgangster was talking to us yesterday. And now, as far as we know, no one has seen either of them since the hits. So where are are they?” they?”

”Hey! Hey, wait! I got it!” Lucky skimmed his book, and then rested his finger on a particular paragraph. ”It says here, 'The bilocate-that is to say, the replica-is always formed of e . . . eph . . . ephemeral substances enchanted through mystical means. While it looks, sounds, feels, and perhaps even smells genuine, its very nature means that it lacks the in . . . intrin . . . intrinsic permanence of normal human matter. This is presumably why every recorded bilocate-of which, it must be admitted, there are very few instances . . .' Madonna, Madonna, this writer is wordy! Uh, every recorded bilocate . . . 'has only been known to exist for a short span of time, and no bilocate has ever been recorded developing an independent existence of its own.' ” this writer is wordy! Uh, every recorded bilocate . . . 'has only been known to exist for a short span of time, and no bilocate has ever been recorded developing an independent existence of its own.' ”

”Ah.” Max nodded. ”Of course.”

”Of course, what what?” I said.

”Don't you see, kid?” said Lucky. ”A doppelgangster is created, given the contract, and then vanishes when the hit is completed. The perfect a.s.sa.s.sin!”

”No, I don't see. Johnny was already dead when we met with his 'bilocate,' ” I pointed out.

”Hmph.” Lucky frowned in thought.

”Why,” Max wondered, ”would the ent.i.ty creating these doppelgangsters want at least one of them to continue masquerading as the victim after he's deceased?”

”Of course!” Lucky jumped up. ”I got it!”

Startled, Nelli jumped up, too, tail wagging, tongue lolling as she panted and gazed expectantly at Lucky. Max and I gazed at him expectantly, too.

”Okay, Charlie's death occurred in front of witnesses, no way to hide that,” Lucky said. ”But Johnny . . . He was found in the river. If you want to get rid of a body quick, that's a good place to put it.”

I cleared my throat.

”Apart from getting a corpse out of your car trunk real fast, if you're worried about getting caught with it-er, speaking theoretically, that is,” Lucky said.

”Of course,” Max said.

”Apart from that, any forensic evidence that was carelessly left on the body deteriorates a lot faster in the water than on land. Plus, you can always hope that something living in the water eats the corpse.”

”Do we have have to go into this much detail?” I asked. to go into this much detail?” I asked.

”My point-”

”And you do have one?”

”-is that dumping a body in the river is one way to confuse the trail for the cops. And however the h.e.l.l Charlie's shooting happened, that's obviously confused the cops, too.”

”That's for sure,” I said, thinking of Lopez and Napoli.

”And what's gonna confuse 'em even more?” Lucky prodded.

Max and I gazed at Lucky in bewildered silence. His expression suggested that we were disappointing students at a seminar on the Way of the Wiseguy.

”We ain't the only people,” Lucky continued, enunciating carefully out of consideration for our slow wits, ”who saw that doppelgangster walking around and living Johnny's normal life, even after Johnny was floating face down in the East River.”

”Oh.” I rubbed my hands over my face as I realized what he was saying. ”Oh.” ”Oh.”

”Oh, my goodness,” Max said. ”That explains it.”

”There will be contradictory witness statements about when Johnny was last seen or could have died,” I said.

”Exactly!” Lucky was pleased we had finally caught the train.

”But ever since Johnny's body was found, no one has seen or spoken to his double. Including us.” I shuddered when I realized, ”That . . . that thing thing suddenly decided to leave our meeting in the crypt. Somehow it knew! Knew that its original had just been found dead and its lifespan was over.” suddenly decided to leave our meeting in the crypt. Somehow it knew! Knew that its original had just been found dead and its lifespan was over.”

Lucky nodded. ”It sensed that its job was done. That it was time to sink back into whatever eph . . . ephemeral substances it came from.”

”But how how did it know?” I asked. ”And how did something that seemed as stupid as Johnny's doppelgangster-” did it know?” I asked. ”And how did something that seemed as stupid as Johnny's doppelgangster-”

”A perfec perfect replica of Johnny,” Lucky muttered.

”-manage to conceal the sudden awareness of Johnny's death from us?”

”I hypothesize,” Max said, ”that it was created that way. I suspect the creature may not have known that Johnny Be Good's body had been found. It may not even have killed Johnny. We must keep in mind that poor Chubby Charlie saw his perfect double, but no one no one saw who killed Charlie, even though many people were present and the doppelgangster, based on what we know so far, is a visible, tangible phenomenon.” saw who killed Charlie, even though many people were present and the doppelgangster, based on what we know so far, is a visible, tangible phenomenon.”

”So if we're not sure the double killed Johnny Be Good, and we're not sure it even knew he was dead . . .” I spread my hands in a helpless gesture.

”Keep in mind the short lifespan that Lucky has mentioned. I suspect the creature was created to last only until the death of the original was discovered,” Max said. ”At that moment in time, and quite possibly without knowing why, the doppelgangster felt a sudden compulsion to depart. Shortly thereafter, I suspect, it ceased to exist.”

”So . . .” Lucky thought it over. ”The reason we ain't seen Charlie's doppelgangster since before he got whacked is because there were witnesses to his death.”

Max nodded. ”There was no interval between Charlie's death and the discovery of his demise. I postulate that his double ceased to exist almost immediately thereafter. But in Johnny Be Good's case . . .”

I said, ”The river has damaged the evidence, and there are witnesses who'll confuse the trail considerably because they saw or spoke to 'Johnny' hours after the forensic estimate suggests that he was already dead.”

”The police will be forced to conclude,” Max said, ”that a serious mistake was made in the collection or interpretation of the physical evidence. And they'll never be able to pinpoint what it was.”

”So the killer doesn't even need an alibi for the time of the murder,” I said. ”Because the cops will never be sure when it happened.”

”Meanwhile, in between when Johnny's wife last saw him and when he turned up dead, no one was lookin' for him because no one knew he was missing.” Lucky said with reluctant admiration, ”This is one slippery hitter. The cops'll never figure out who whacked Johnny. Or Charlie.”

I looked at Lucky. ”And you know who else might never figure this out?”

Lucky let out his breath and nodded. ”The Gambello family. The Corvinos found a hitter that can pick us off like wooden ducks at a carnival shooting gallery. And we might never figure out who it is or how he's doing it.”

”You've got two deaths in the family, and you're just guessing it's the Corvinos,” I said. Lopez was just guessing, too. ”But I don't see how that makes sense. Not with a killer as smart as you say this one is. Surely the Corvinos must know you'll suspect them and hit back. So why isn't the killer trying to make these deaths look like an accident?”

Lucky shrugged. ”Because in our line of work, one death might be an accident, but two is always a business problem. No matter what it looked like, we'd suspect the Corvinos by the time the second guy bought the farm. So why bother to disguise it? For the Corvinos, the main thing is to keep the cops from nailing them for these hits.” As his phone rang, he added, ”Betcha they're enjoying this.” He glanced at the readout. ”It's Danny.”