Devon lost the thousand-yard stare and looked at Finn. “I had nothing to do with Murphy’s murder, Finn,” he said.
Finn kept looking at him for another few seconds. “Good enough.” He sat down in the other chair in the room.
“What now?” Devon asked.
“I guess that’s up to you. Murphy was the only lead you gave me. Is there anybody else?”
“Maybe,” Devon said. “You’re not gonna like it, though.”
Finn frowned. “Who?”
“Eddie Ballick.”
“The Fisherman? You’re kidding, right?”
“Ballick was Murphy’s boss. If anyone would know anything, it would be him.”
“Maybe, but so what? What’s Ballick gonna say to me that’s gonna be useful? He’s not gonna incriminate himself just to get you out.”
Devon shook his head. “No. But maybe he’d give up someone else. I been tryin’ to figure out something to give the DA. I give them someone good enough, maybe I can cut a good deal. Maybe even stay outta the joint?”
“I guess that depends on who you could give them. I’m not sure they’re gonna be interested in Ballick tossing them Murphy at this point. They’ll probably feel like justice has already been served as far as he goes.”
“What if we could give them someone more interesting?”
“It’d have to be someone pretty interesting. Who did you have in mind?”
“How about Johnny Gilberacci?”
Finn thought about it. “Play it out for me.”
“I told you,” Devon said, “it was an inside job. Johnny’d been boost-in’ shit from his own store-stealing from his partners-for almost a year, just to keep his legs in one piece. Even that was only enough to keep up with the vig. This job was gonna get him off the whole fuckin’ nut. Murphy and his people were gonna take the merchandise to sell on the street, and the insurance was gonna be split down the middle.”
“So what happens now?” Finn asked. “Given that the whole thing blew up?”
“With Murphy dead, who knows? There’s gonna be a fight over his business, but a lotta shit falls through the cracks. Johnny might come out of this pretty good. In some ways, it’s a pretty good motive for Johnny to kill Murphy, don’t you think?”
Finn laughed. “Murphy wasn’t killed with pinking shears, Devon. You really think Johnny Gilberacci did the kind of damage we’re talking about to Vinny?”
Devon shook his head. “No, probably not. But we can still give him up on the burglary and insurance fraud, right? The murder angle is just a bonus that the cops might want to play with a little.”
Finn let the notion percolate for a moment. “It’s the kind of a case that DAs love,” he admitted. “It’s high-profile, and Johnny hasn’t made many friends in the press, so it’s not likely that he’ll be seen as a sympathetic defendant. It could actually be the kind of a case that some ambitious prosecutor would jump at.”
“That’s what I figured. It could actually get me out of this in the long run.”
Finn shook his head. “Don’t get too far ahead of yourself. The DA’s office would still want you to do some time, but it could reduce the stretch-if you can actually deliver. Did you ever deal with Gilberacci directly?”
Devon shook his head. “I only talked to Murphy. That’s why we gotta get Eddie Ballick on board. The whole thing swings on him.”
Finn shook his head. “There’s got to be someone else.”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Think harder.”
Devon sighed. “You know how shit works, Finn. Eddie keeps everything under his control. He only deals with his boys-like Murphy-and they only deal with the people who need to know about a particular job. The fewer loose ends, the less chance that the cops can get a clear shot at anybody.”
“They got a clear shot at you.”
“I’m tellin’ you, the only person who might be able to connect the dots straight back to Giberacci would be Ballick. There’s nobody else.”
Finn rubbed his temples. “The Fisherman,” he said. “I’m not really that anxious to have this conversation.”
“You ever meet him?” Devon asked.
Finn nodded. “I did work on a few jobs for him back when I was hustling. Grunt stuff. He probably wouldn’t even remember. Not exactly a warm, fuzzy guy.”
Devon agreed. “No, he’s not. But he’ll remember. He remembers everything.”
“He still down near Quincy?”
“Yeah. At the shack on the water. You couldn’t pry his ass away from there.”
Finn looked at his watch. “Okay,” he said. “Fuck it, why not? We have your arraignment tomorrow, and I need to know what kind of cards we’re holding.”
“Do me a favor,” Devon said.
“You’re about out of favors, Devon.”
“Give me a call when you’re done with him, okay? I wanna hear what he says.”
Finn got up and walked over to the steel door, pressing the button by the side of it to let the guards know that he was ready to leave. The buzzer sounded on the electronic lock on the other door, to let Devon back into the cell block.
“Wait, Finn,” he said before he left the room.
“What?”
“How’s Sally? She okay?”
“Yeah,” Finn replied. “She’s okay. She’s a piece of work. I like her.”
Devon smiled. “She’s a fuckin’ pistol. Hell of a lot smarter than either of her parents. Her mom’s a real fuckup. No one ever gave Sally a chance. Shit, I didn’t even know she existed until a year ago.”
“She seems to be getting by,” Finn said.
“Yeah, getting by,” Devon said. “She’s a survivor, that’s for shit-sure. I should be doin’ better by her than this. With all the crap she’s been through she deserves better than just getting by.”
“We all deserve better than just getting by,” Finn said. “Sometimes, that’s the best we can hope for.”
“Yeah,” Devon said. He was back into the thousand-yard stare. “Sometimes that’s right.”
Chapter Nine
It was lunchtime at Nashua Street just after Finn left. Devon moved through the chow line like a zombie. Food was ladled out onto his tray without his notice; he walked alone over to a table in the corner. He sat with his back to the wall, and kept his head down. He felt as if he were underwater as he pushed the mush around on his tray with his fork. He couldn’t have eaten if he’d wanted to.
Devon felt bad for Murphy. Not nearly as bad as he felt for himself, but bad all the same. Murphy had tried for him. Even after the others had given up on him, Murphy had kept him afloat, even if just. Had things been different, maybe the Gilberacci’s job would have been enough-the beginning of a comeback. A comeback clearly wasn’t in the cards now, though. He’d made his choice and there was no going back.
He turned his thoughts back to Murphy’s murder. It was hard not to leap to the obvious conclusion. It fit with the rumors he’d heard. It would make sense. But he still wasn’t certain. Murphy’d led a dangerous life. He’d pissed off lots of people, and he’d run with a vicious crowd. His murder could be a coincidence. It wasn’t likely, but it was possible, and Devon clung to that possibility.
There was only one way to be sure. Ballick was the key. They’d made their mistakes, but they’d made them together. Until he knew for sure, Devon was safer in jail.
He thought back over the past decades and wondered whether he’d have done anything differently. Probably not. He was who he was, and nothing would have changed that. Even if he’d known.
The Irishman didn’t trust Devon. It didn’t take a lot of brains for Devon to recognize it. In some ways, Devon could understand. Devon was undisciplined. He talked too much. The Irishman had a singular purpose, and from what Devon knew of him, he had dedicated his life-everything he was or would become-to waging a war that required the kind of commitment Devon would never understand.
It had been more than four weeks since they’d met at the Body Shop, and Devon still hadn’t delivered. They’d made one try, and it had been a farce. Two weeks earlier they had acted out a pathetic pantomime in front of the museum off Fenway. The Irishman and Devon pretended to assault another one of Murphy’s crew out on the street late at night, well within the range of the outdoor security cameras. The third man then ran to the museum’s side entrance and started banging on the door and ringing the bell, calling out for help. The guards, though, had been more cautious than Devon had expected, and had simply called the police, staying locked up in the museum themselves. The three of them had just barely cleared the area before the cops arrived.