"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure you're right."
There was a knock at the door. A uniform poked his head through to talk to DeSalle, then withdrew.
DeSalle passed it along: "Counselor Silberman-that's Mr. Rauch's lawyer, Lieutenant-is currently unavailable. Seems he's on vacation in Barbados for a couple weeks."
"Well," Don said. "That does present us with something of a problem, doesn't it, Rauch? We can petition for a court-appointed lawyer, some kid just out of law school or some bumed-out case carrying twice as many cases as anyone could possibly handle."
"Or you can hold me over till such time as my own attorney becomes available."
"Good take on the situation," Don said.
"Thank you."
"Listen, you mind waiting here a few minutes? Couple things I've gotta take care of."
DeSalle and I followed Don out of the room.
"We really tiy calling that shitbag's lawyer?" he asked.
"This time, I didn't make it up. Didn't have to. Guy's really in Barbados."
"Not much room to maneuver there, then."
"Not much."
"So now I guess we hit number two and hope he really does try harder, see if we can jump-start him."
Shon Delany was in the next room, seated behind a high, desk-sized table. They'd put a canned Coke, a cellophane-shrouded sandwich from a vending machine, a pack of Salems and a Bic lighter on the table. Delany was drinking the Coke.
Don introduced himself and asked if there was anything else he could get.
"You want another Coke, maybe? some ice? a slice of pizza?
"No?
"Look, son, I'm not supposed to-my superiors find out, I'm in for a major ass-chewing-but I feel like I have to tell you this. Your buddy in there rolled over on you. Told us about the burglaries and all the rest. Names, dates, details. What you did with the take."
"But I don't know about any of that."
"Well. Sure you don't. But…"
Don spread his hands imploringly as DeSalle stepped forward.
"I'll but him," DeSalle said.
Don smiled. "See what I mean? Day comes to an end, folks like yourself shoved in here, all this paperwork, I've just naturally got to have some kind of answers for the people upstairs."
"But I don't know anything," Delany said. "I'd help you if I could."
"I'm sure you would. So for a start why don't you tell us why you killed Daryl Anthony Payne."
"What?"
"Come on, Delany. Rauch told us all about it. How he begged you to stop, let it go, but you wouldn't. Out of control, he said. Totally
OOC."
"Wait a minute, okay? I didn't kill anyone."
"You think that matters, Shon? The meter's ticking. I gotta draw a line at the bottom, add it all up, column A, column B. That's what the city and the citizens pay me for. And my wife's expecting me home for dinner.
"You saw anything maybe you weren't supposed to see, something that could put this in a different light for us, now's your time to lay it on the table."
"Only chance you'll get," DeSalle echoed.
"He's right. I don't blow smoke, Shon. We're doing our best here, trying to be up front with you. Your cousin's going down. Up to you whether he drags you down with him or not."
"You need paper and a pen?" DeSalle said. "Want to write it all down for us?"
Shon Delany shook his head.
"Okay, Shon," Don said. "Okay. I understand. DeSalle?"
"Yessir?"
"You want to drop the dime on this young man for me? Just tell County we've got a newfish for them, they want to bring the hooks, come get him."
"Look, I do get to make a phone call, right?" Delany said.
Don looked surprised.
"Man hasn't had his call yet? How'd that happen?"
"I'm not sure, sir. I'll look into it"
"You do that, Detective. Butfirst you take Mr. Delany into my office, let him use my phone."
"Yessir."
"Then you call County. And me, at home, to let me know it's all been taken care of. Pot roast tonight. Should be coming out of the oven just about now. I don't want to miss it."
DeSalle and Shon Delany left.
"Pot roast, huh?" I said. "And a wife."
"Not bad, huh? Maybe I should start writing novels. What can I say? Attitude's eveiything."
Don looked up at the clock on the wall opposite the interrogation rooms.
"Don't guess you want to grab some dinner this late?"
"Why not. What the hell, I might even spring for it."
"Whoa… Scary."
Don glanced back at the clock. We both knew he didn't want to go home.
"Give me a minute or two, okay, Lew? Meet you outside."
"Sad thing is," he said half an hour later, as we settled back in a booth at a hole-in-the-wall named Tony's, one of Don's favorites, "the kid, Delany, he's probably gonna take a hit for this. A small hit, but a real one. Got a sheet now, carry it around for the rest of his life. Never did crapola, probably doesn't have even half a clue. While this other shit, just because he knows the system, he'll get all the breaks."
A huge platter of oysters cruised into port before us.
"Thanks, Tony," Don said.
"You gonna work on these awhile?"
"You better believe it."
"Want another beer?"
Don said yes. He got it instantly.
"You want anything else, just let me know, right?"
"Right."
Tony disappeared into the kitchen. We heard rapid-fire chopping back there.
"You still seeing this O'Neil person?" Don asked. He loaded horseradish onto an oyster, forked the whole thing into his mouth.
I nodded.
"Tilings going all right there?"
Cocktail sauce this time. Another Rabelaisian swallow.
And I nodded.
"Good. That's good, Lew. Happy for you."
Don drained off half his beer in a gulp.
"Maybe we could get together, just the three of us, have dinner some night."
"I'd like that."
"Yeah. Yeah, I would too."
He poured the rest of his beer down.
"We'll work on that, then."
Tony emerged from the kitchen to slide another beer into place before Don and to refill my glass of iced tea, pouring sideways from the pitcher, just as Don's beeper went off.
He pulled it off his belt, put it on the table and stared at it.
"Maybe I should just shoot the damned thing."
"Probably go down okay, you put enough horseradish on it."
"Yeah."
Don stalked off towards the phone booth.
"Ready for menus?" Tony asked.
"Remains to be seen."
"As usual. I'll just leave them here on the table then, check back with you."
"Sounds good."
"Today's soup is cream of artichoke. Specials are trout in garlic sauce and penne pasta alfredo with grilled shrimp. Either one's guaranteed to leave you drooling into next Tuesday."
"Thanks, Tony. I'm drooling already."
"No problem. Need an extra napkin?"
"Not yet. But some more tea would be great, when you get a chance."
"You got it."
Don came back and sank heavily into the booth across from me.
"Guess you have a big night planned, right, Lew? With your new girl and all."
"Not really."
"You mind coming with me, then? I could use the company."
He stood and tucked a five under the saltshaker.
"Sure. Where we going?"
"It's Danny, Lew. They just found him. Place down on Dryades. Apparent suicide."
25
DANNY WAS HALF afloat, half submerged, in a tubful of tepid water. One of those old tubs, heavy as a kettle, up off the ground on a platfonu, with clawed feet. A garbage bag around his head was tied at the neck. His tongue, swollen and purple, protruded. Blood vessels in his eyes had burst, making them look like road maps with nothing but interstates. Bladder and bowels had let go in the water.