For a moment, coming like that in his slow voice, the words seemed unimportant enough. A slow bombshell, delayed. But the words were heard after a few beats, and Gazzo stood up in a kind of slow motion.
Gazzo said. ‘She told you Ricardo Vega arranged the abortion? That he was taking her to the doctor himself? Going with her?’
‘Yes, sir, she said that. Vega’s a name you remembers.’
‘What about Ted Marshall?’ I asked.
‘Never heard about him. I guess I didn’t want to know about all her fellers. Just her, and me, and the kids. That’s what I wanted. Don’t just figure what I do now. I got no money, no work. How do I keep the kids? Could take ’em down Arkansas, or send them to her folks in Carolina. Annie wouldn’t like none of that for the kids.’ He sighed deeply, as if hearing Anne Terry and her plans for her children. ‘Well, you think I can see the kids anyway, Captain?’
‘I’ll fix it,’ Gazzo said. ‘We’ve got no reason to hold you now. But we’re going to check your story and your movements all the way. You understand?’
‘You got your job. I thank you kindly for the kids.’
Terrell stood up, and Gazzo instructed Sergeant Jonas to arrange for Terrell to go to his children. Gazzo nodded to me to follow him out. He didn’t say anything until we were both seated in his shade-drawn office, and he had a cigarette.
‘Well, Dan?’
‘What does Terrell gain by lying?’ I said. ‘Revenge?’ ‘He’s got stone in him, Dan,’ Gazzo said. ‘A man like that can do a lot if he thinks he has to. But just for revenge on one of her men? Anyway, all we have is his word for what she said. His word against Vega’s. We’ll need more.’
‘You’d think he could make a better lie if he was after Vega,’ I said.
‘Yeh, you would,’ Gazzo agreed. He stood up. ‘Let’s go and talk to Vega.’
Chapter Thirteen
Ricardo Vega didn’t like our reappearance. He met us at his door in a sweat suit under a cashmere topcoat. He wore Wellington boots, and looked ready to go out. The boots and slim sweat suit made him look like some dashing cavalier. An overaged cavalier, his face tired.
‘I’m due at rehearsal, Captain. I’ve got too many problems in my show to waste time.’
‘We won’t take long, Mr Vega,’ Gazzo said. He didn’t exactly push inside, or menace Vega, but we went in.
‘I’m sick of that one-armed pariah,’ Vega said, as much to assert himself against Gazzo as anything else. ‘Get him out.’
‘Mr Fortune is licensed to help us. He’s helping,’ Gazzo said. ‘We’ll wait if you want your lawyer.’
‘I want,’ Vega said, ‘and I have work to do.’
He vanished into an inner room. Gazzo sat in his coat. on an ornate Empire chair. Somewhere in the vast apartment Vega began to shout. He had been outfaced, he had to fight back against those he could dominate. George Lehman went away, and the distant shouting began again.
In the late sunlight the mammoth living room had a dusty look. With its fussy, overcrowded furniture, and walls of paintings, it was somehow closed in and untouched by open space. A room that lived only at night. A room for the people who moved through it. They are night people, those who live on the high echelons of the successful business of art. They exist indoors in rooms like this. A narrow life of written words, canvas colours, shaped stone, and the judgement of each other. Always indoors and the night, even when they were out in the daylight. They carry their world with them, hear the same analytical voices, in New York or Paris, Tokyo or Montego Bay.
Gazzo came alert an instant before Ricardo Vega returned to disturb my reverie. It was obvious that the apartment had a rear entrance-the lawyer was with Vega.
‘Okay, let’s get on with it,’ Vega said, impatient.
He still wore his sweat suit. Slim, but older in daylight. ‘Let me, Rey, will you?’ the lawyer said. ‘Is it the same matter, Captain?’
‘Same thing, ‘Gazzo said, and stood.
‘Is there a warrant involved now?’
‘Just some talk for now.’
‘I don’t like that, but what’s on your mind?’
Gazzo told them. What Boone Terrell had said, word for word, and nothing more. No judgements, no guesses. The lawyer bridled. Ricardo Vega shrugged.
‘I never heard of Boone Terrell,’ Vega said. ‘He’s lying.’
‘He didn’t say he knew you,’ Gazzo said. ‘Just told us what his wife told him. Her you did know.’
‘She never said that, how could she?’ Vega said. ‘If she did, she was raving or out to get me. Cause me trouble.’
‘She didn’t know she was going to die, Vega,’ Gazzo said.
I said, ‘Why would Terrell lie? Any ideas?’
‘No,’ Vega snapped, ‘and you keep out of it. You I don’t have to put up with. Captain, I don’t love authorities, but I want to co-operate. Only this is ridiculous. The man’s lying.’
The lawyer said, ‘Mr Vega doesn’t intend to be pushed around, Captain. We don’t threaten, but he has position, power, and standing. He’s an important man. Unless you have more to-’
Vega said dryly, ‘They know who I am, Charley.’
‘Let’s say she was lying,’ Gazzo said, unaffected. ‘Why?’
‘Who could know, Captain?’ Vega said. ‘For her husband, perhaps. Maybe she liked to drop my name, I get that all the time. A name to satisfy the husband. Maybe to get him to come after me for revenge?’
‘Did he?’ Gazzo asked.
‘If he did, I never noticed.’
Gazzo said, ‘I don’t figure him for revenge.’
‘I hope not. I’m too busy for any games.’
The lawyer said, ‘You appear to be working very hard on a small crime, Captain. A simple abortion.’
‘I want the abortionist, and maybe someone set it up, even took part,’ Gazzo said. ‘Then there’s the pills. She didn’t exactly die of the abortion. She took wrong pills in combination with sodium pentothal. Maybe someone knew they would kill her, knew that for her the combination was extra lethal.’
The lawyer was unable to believe his ears. ‘Murder? You suggest murder? No more, Rey! Get a warrant, Captain.’
‘No, wait,’ Vega said, waved, ‘Murder, Captain?’
‘It’s a possibility,’ Gazzo said.
‘Rey!’ the lawyer cried.
‘Why, Captain?’ Vega said. ‘I mean, think! An abortion alone ends any threat to me, right?’ He leaned toward Gazzo, ticked off his points on his fingers. ‘Say I even paid her off. After the abortion no more threat, so why kill her?’
‘To get the payoff back,’ Gazzo said. ‘That forced contract, especially. Your work and name means a lot to you, right?’
‘A few bucks, and one bad contract? Please, Captain.’
‘I did some checking,’ Gazzo said. ‘You haven’t had a money success in years. You get paid good for acting, but your own company is shaky. I figure that’s what’s important to you-where you do it alclass="underline" write, direct, act and spend your own money. The whole deal, and the critics haven’t been so nice to your shows, either. You’ve been losing some money, getting lumps from critics, and word says you’re having a harder time getting backers. That could make a man more touchy about bad publicity. You admitted she maybe could have hurt you. Maybe she had more against you than you let on. You might have been more scared than you look. This show you’re doing now, it’s a big stake, right? You’ve got a lot riding on it.’
Gazzo was a good cop, I’ve said it before. He works carefully and deep, looks under all the rocks. Ricardo Vega seemed to grow older before my eyes as Gazzo talked about him, and I felt a crawling sensation on my neck. Vega was worried, unsure. Sometimes great artists are on the way down when they look like they’re on top. There’s always a reputation lag. When I thought about it, Ricardo Vega’s big triumphs were years old now.
‘I’ll bet people underestimate you, Captain,’ Vega said.
‘Not so much anymore,’ Gazzo said mildly.