Part 16 (1/2)
”Oh s.h.i.+t, oh s.h.i.+t, oh s.h.i.+t,” Mintz said. ”She serious about this guy?”
”f.u.c.k,” DeGraw said, face going dark as the full extent of the situation dawned on him. ”Whole time together, I never laid a hand on my wife she didn't want me to ...”
”What?” Mintz said, not quite following the train of thought.
”You know, I just spanked her and stuff like that, but ...”
”Frank, I don't wanna know about ... Why you talkin' about yer s.e.x life?”
”Was just a game,” DeGraw said. ”Never, and I mean never never did I raise my hand to Sandy in anger.” did I raise my hand to Sandy in anger.”
”Fine. But what's that gotta do with Wild w.i.l.l.y in pieces in the alley here?”
”Once, Lou, one time only, I hit Sandy. Big argument, she was slammin' me with a telephone 'cuz I wouldn't let her make a call to this mutt, this new boyfriend.”
”Who turns out to be Wild w.i.l.l.y, but okay, what does you hittin' Sandy ...?”
”I wasn't even outa the house yet and she's whorin' herself with this guy. I'm givin' her s.h.i.+t about it, and she's really pummelin' me in the chest. Which is fine, but then she clips me in the face and I just react, on reflex. I cuff her one on the chin and she goes down in a heap like I'd really hauled off, which, you know, I absolutely did not do.”
”Okay, got it, stormy freakin' romance,” Mintz said. ”But ...”
”I shouldna had those beers at lunch.”
”Wait a minute,” Mintz said. ”Yer makin' turns here ...”
”I just had four frickin' beers, dunce, and six before we started the s.h.i.+ft.”
”So what, there's n.o.body around,” Mintz said. ”Yer not makin' sense.”
”If we call this in, they'll around. They find out I know the victim, they're gonna sit me down for questions, and I don't want no beer on my breath, okay?”
”All right, but we gotta call this in,” Mintz said. ”We'll get ya some mints when we go back. And yer not drunk anyway, so what da f.u.c.k 'er ya talkin' about?”
”Listen,” DeGraw said, grabbing Mintz by the arms. ”One time I was violent with my wife over the guy, and another time ... I threatened this guy's life.” Mintz's jaw went slack again as DeGraw continued, pointing each word, ”He was smackin' her around, so I threatened him in front of half my friggin' neighborhood in Gravesend. They all heard me threaten to cut Wild w.i.l.l.y's b.a.l.l.s off if he hit Sandy again in front of the baby.”
”Whoa,” Mintz said, breathing heavier. ”When did this happen?”
”Couple weeks ago, Labor Day. I stopped in to see the baby. So I'm inside, and everybody's outside drinkin', and then he and she start to argue over something, I don't know what, and things fly outa hand. So I go out, and he's manhandlin' her, and all of a sudden I'm handin' the kid off and steppin' in. Big friggin' scene, right in the street.”
”And you don't tell me this weeks ago?”
”f.u.c.k you,” DeGraw said. ”You gossip way too much.”
”And I just heard twelve too many details for one night, so shut the f.u.c.k up.”
DeGraw poked a finger at Mintz's chest. ”You and me, we gotta get on the same page here, or this thing's gonna get nasty.”
”Oh, it's already nasty,” Mintz said, half-laughing with a hysterical little whoop. DeGraw recognized it as Mintz's nervous habit when he felt he was in over his head.
”I need ya, Lou. I ain't sittin' in a cell for somethin' I had nuttina do with.”
”Hold on, just hold on and tell me something,” Mintz said, mustering his courage, taking a breath and squaring himself in front of DeGraw. ”Did you ice this guy? ... No, no, no, don't tell me, please don't tell me, I don't want to know ...”
”You f.u.c.kin' hump,” DeGraw said, grabbing his hat from his head and swiping a meaty paw across his face and through his hair. ”I mean, you really think really think ...” ...”
”It's a proper question,” Mintz said, trying to beat back another whoop. ”And if you can't handle it comin' from me, how you gonna do when they sit you down?”
DeGraw let his body go slack. He needed Mintz to be as cool as possible, for moral support at the very least, and maybe more than that. ”Awright, listen, Mintzy. Everybody knows the world's a little better now that this guy stopped breathin'. Cripes, I'd like to be able to say that I did do this guy. But it just so happens that I did no no ice this muthuh. And now my footprints are down there in his friggin' ice this muthuh. And now my footprints are down there in his friggin' blood blood okay?” okay?”
”Oh s.h.i.+t.”
”Oh s.h.i.+t is right,” DeGraw said. ”What am I gonna do with all this?” is right,” DeGraw said. ”What am I gonna do with all this?”
”Wow, I don't know, Frank. What do ya think?”
”Look, my footprints are down there. You think maybe you could walk down there too and put your footprints all over? Then we could maybe say you were the one who went down and not me, I stayed out here.”
”Geez,” Mintz said, trying not to hyperventilate. ”You want me to say I'm the one who found him?”
”Now that I think about it,” DeGraw said, ”there might be a lot of footprints down there, how you gonna step into all the ones that are mine?”
”Exactly.”
”And second, I already got his blood on my shoes, in my pants, and who knows where else. When somebody tells a detective how I threatened w.i.l.l.y on Labor Day, I'm an instant suspect. And when they test this uniform for w.i.l.l.y's blood, I am screwed.”
”But I can still vouch for ya, Frank,” Mintz said. ”We were together all night.”
”Which makes you a secondary suspect.”
”Well, then f.u.c.k it, the only thing I can do is read you your rights,” Mintz said, whooping as he removed handcuffs from their belt holster. ”You are under arrest.”
”Just cut it out, all right?” DeGraw said as Mintz laughed. ”You know, I hate it when you enjoy my predicaments.”
”Somebody's gotta lighten this mood, Frank, 'cuz lemme tell ya, this mood sucks.”
DeGraw leaned back on the wall and eyed the b.l.o.o.d.y hand on the sidewalk, taking out cigarettes. He put one in his mouth, gave Mintz one, then lit them both.
”Awright, face it, yer screwed anyway,” Mintz said, fighting for control. ”They gonna find out what you said to Wild w.i.l.l.y on Labor Day, so ya gotta figure goin' in they're gonna take a good hard look at you, at least as a formality. Holy s.h.i.+t, yer f.u.c.ked.” f.u.c.ked.”
”Do me a favor and stop laughin', ya p.r.i.c.k.”
”Just nerves, Frank. You know I get this way. Don't be mad at me.”
”It makes me frickin' nuts, so stop it, okay? What am I gonna do here?”
”What do you mean, do?” do?” Mintz said. ”We gotta call this in.” Mintz said. ”We gotta call this in.”
”I don't know, is that true?”
Mintz contemplated his meaning for a second. ”Whoa, whoa, wait a minute ...”