‘I do. That’s why I’m trying to help you.’
‘By getting me to admit that I killed Jimmy? That’s a real big help.’
‘By telling the truth. Maybe one of you got that. 38 from his glove compartment and then something happened that neither of you meant to happen. Maybe he was threatening you with it to leave him alone — or maybe you were threatening him with it to take you back.’
It might have been a gag in a magic act, the way she produced her cell phone. It wasn’t there and then it was there. Where the hell had it come from?
‘I want to call my father.’
‘You’re not going to talk to me anymore?’
‘Not when you talk crazy like this.’
‘You know I’m not talking crazy. I don’t believe you killed him intentionally. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.’
‘My father will know what to do. He always knows what to do.’ The father she mocked? The father she at least pretended to despise? ‘You’ll be sorry.’ She was nine years old again now. She thumbed a single number.
I heard the phone ringing. Once, twice, three times, four times. ‘I’m sorry it’s so late. You need to help me, Daddy. This terrible man is saying terrible things about me.’
She decided to intimidate me with her master’s voice. She put it on speaker phone and held it up so I could hear him.
In the background I heard a sleepy woman asking what was wrong. ‘You hear that, Jenny? Now you’ve woken your mother. What kind of trouble are you in this time? Jesus Christ, what time is it?’
‘Is she in trouble?’ the woman said.
‘Just let me handle this,’ the father snapped. ‘Are you drunk or on drugs as usual, Jenny?’
‘I just had a few drinks.’
‘A few drinks. That’s what you’ve been telling us since you were fourteen.’
She realized now that letting me hear her old man talk hadn’t been such a good idea. He had one of those boardroom voices: manly, angry, definitive, as if he was God’s own representative here on earth.
As she started to cry, he said, ‘Oh, Jesus, don’t start that.’
‘What’s she doing?’ The mother’s voice was concerned.
‘She’s crying. She always cries. It’s part of her act when she gets into trouble and I have to take care of it for her.’
Jenny’s hand had lowered, the phone with it. It seemed to grow heavier the angrier her old man sounded.
I said, ‘Your daughter’s in trouble and she needs you to help her right now.’
‘Who the hell is that?’ he bellered.
I took the phone from Jenny’s hand. She offered no resistance. She slumped in the booth, placing both her hands over her face.
‘My name is Dev Conrad. I’m in town here for a few days working on the Ward campaign.’
‘The Ward campaign? What’s my daughter got to do with that bastard?’
‘She’ll tell you all about it when you come to the Royale Hotel and pick her up.’
‘I seem to remember buying her a very expensive Porsche about eight months ago.’
‘She needs a goddamned ride, all right? I seem to remember she’s your daughter.’
There was pain in the pause. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as he’d sounded at first. Leery now, he said: ‘What kind of trouble is she in?’
‘Nothing you want to talk about on the phone.’
‘Oh, God.’
‘What’s wrong, Tommy?’ the mother said, picking up on his tone.
‘Now we’re going to sit here and in twenty minutes go to the lobby where we’ll hope to see you in the drive-up waiting for her.’
‘Make it a half hour.’
‘Make what a half hour, Tommy?’
‘Will you shut your fucking mouth?’
I’d been wrong. I guess you couldn’t take the Tommy out of old Tommy no matter how hard you tried.
I handed the phone back to Jenny.
‘I really appreciate this, Daddy.’
Her mother was sobbing in the background. She didn’t even know what was going on yet.
After she closed her phone, Jenny said, ‘It really was an accident. I just hope somebody believes me.’ She shuddered. This time the dark gaze was timid, fragile. ‘You see what I mean about my father?’
‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘I see what you mean about your father.’
‘I shouldn’t have said that about Jimmy being a comic book nerd. That’s one of the reasons I loved him so much. He accepted me for what I am and I accepted him for what he was. We were really friends, too.’ Then: ‘You think that waitress would give me a bourbon and water? That’s what I drink when I get serious.’
The waitress was laughing about something with three people at a nearby table.
‘Probably not. But how about if I order it and you drink it?’
‘My father really isn’t as bad as he sounds sometimes.’
‘I’ll order you that drink now, Jenny.’
‘In other words, you don’t like him much.’
‘If I say I don’t like how he treats you and your mother, can we change the subject?’
‘Maybe I should get a double shot.’ She tried to smile but couldn’t quite pull it off. ‘It really was an accident, Dev. It really was.’
TWENTY-FIVE
As I pulled in behind headquarters I looked at the approximate spot where Jim Waters had been killed. Jenny had explained it to me as we waited for her father. Waters had told her how much he loved Lucy. In a rage she pulled the gun from the glove compartment, not meaning to kill him, just to frighten him. But he’d lunged for it and the gun had gone off. I wondered how many times this particular tale had been told to skeptical cops within the confines of interrogation rooms. Maybe it was true. I liked to think so because I cared about Jenny and because no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t imagine her killing anyone.
I got out of my rental and walked over to the spot, the whipping wind proving a bitter foe determined to fight me. I’d seen one of those paranormal TV shows one beery night in which a female psychic claimed that she could contact a murdered person simply by standing on the place where he or she had been killed. A handy skill. If I possessed it all I’d have to do is call out Waters’ name and he could clue me in about what had really happened.
The back door of headquarters opened and a voice, tattered by the wind, said, ‘I knew you’d show up here tonight.’
‘I’m trying out a paranormal trick I saw on TV. I planted that thought in your mind.’
Kathy laughed. ‘You don’t really believe that stuff, do you?’
I started walking to her. ‘Not really. But you never know.’
When I got inside, she said, ‘I’ve got coffee on upstairs. He’s in his office screaming at people on the phone.’
‘Anybody I know?’
‘First he called Lucy. Now he’s yelling at his father. He blames him for sending you here. He seems to believe that everything was going fine until you showed up.’
She smelled of woman warmth, tender perfume, and faintly of bourbon. I wanted to kidnap her.
‘I may as well get it over with.’
I followed her exquisite shape up the stairs. She steered me into her office where she had one of those four-cup coffee brewers on a table near a stack of paperback novels. ‘Sometimes I just close the door and read. I need the escape. I put headphones on so I can’t hear anything. If something really goes wrong they pound on my door and I hear them.’ She handed me a cup of coffee. It smelled rich and good. ‘I get these beans at a boutique in Washington. I buy a three-month supply at a time.’
The first sip reminded me of why I enjoy coffee. In all the slush you get most of the time you start to forget how good it can be.