A: Yes. The four of us.
Q: Were sitting, and drinking with Mr. Custer.
A: Yes, that's right.
Q: How much did he drink?
A: Charlie? I think he had two or three drinks.
Q: Which? Would you remember?
A: Three, I think.
Q: Do you remember what he was drinking?
A: Scotch, I believe. He had a bottle of beer later.
Q: Later?
A: In his office. He opened a bottle of beer and was drinking it when he went to the safe for our money.
Q: So, in your presence, then, he drank three scotches and a bottle of beer.
A: Yes, that's right.
Q: Did he go out onto the deck while you were up there in the office?
A: No, sir, he didn't. He paid us our money, said he enjoyed our being there, and hoped we'd come back real soon. We were a big hit, you know. People came from all over.
Q: You left after he paid you?
A: Yes, we did.
Q: What time was that, would you remember?
A: Around three, three-thirty.
Q: And what did you do then? A: In the morning, that is. Three-thirty in the morning.
Q: Yes, I understand. What did you do then?
A: We went to the van and drove off. We were coming up here to Calusa, you see. We had a long drive ahead.
Q: Was Mr. Custer still alive when you left the club? AI would hope so. He was certainly alive when we left his office.
Q: And you say you drove off immediately after leaving the office?
A: Well, within minutes. The van was running, it was already cool when I climbed inside. So, yes, we were on our way maybe five minutes after we said goodbye to Charlie.
Q: He didn't come out of his office to say goodbye or anything, did he?
A: No. He told us he was going to have another beer and then go to bed. There were lots of empty beer bottles around. He drank a lot of beer.
Q: So he'd finished the first beer already? The one he'd opened?
A: He was just finishing it.
Q: And he opened another bottle?
A: I didn't see him opening it.
Q: But he said ...
A: Not while I was there.
Q: He said he was going to have another beer ...
A: Yes.
Q: ... and then go to bed?
A: Yes.
Q: And you went out to the van ...
A: Yes.
Q: ... and left.
A: Yes. The others were already in the van. They were all set to leave when we came down to join them.
Q: What you say the others ...
A: In the van.
Q: There were three of them in the van, is that correct?
A: Yes. Waiting for us to come down with our money.
Q: So it was just two of you who went up to the office, is that right?
A: Yes. Just two of us.
Q: You, of course ...
A: Yes.
Q: ... and who else? Who went with you to Mr. Custer's office?
A: Sal Roselli.
14.
The only time the man was alone was when he was coming out his house.
Early in the morning, walking over to his garage, getting in his car to drive to work. That was the time to do it. Cause any other time he was with either family or other cops and Sonny had no quarrel with anyone cept him.
Fact of the matter, he had no quarrel with him, either. Man hadn't done nothin to him. What this was, it was insurance plain and simple.
You got the man today so he wun't haunt you the rest of your life, that's what this was all about. Nobody ast the man's father to start a ruckus in his shop, cousin Sonny to shoot in self defense. Life was that way, man. Shit happened.
So what this was going to be tomorrow morning was a clearing of the books. Like consolidating your debts when you had too much on too many credit cards. You borrowed from one source, you wiped out all the other debts. You had just one single debt then, you didn't have to worry all the time about the collector comin round. Carella was the collector. You either worried about the collector or you set your worries aside. Tomorrow morning, Sonny'd be able to breathe free again, no more collector on his ass all the time.
He'd driven past the house three times today alone. This was his fourth and final pass. Last time around, some red-haired lady wearing eyeglasses came out carrying something over to the garage. On the path between the house and the garage was where Sonny planned to do it. Lay in wait for the man, surprise him. Redhead had glanced at the Honda as he drove on by, not the kind of hard look the big black cop had give him yesterday.
Just a curious glance, but it was enough to make Sonny think maybe she'd spotted the car doing its dry runs and it was time to quit. This time he drove past slow but not too conspicuous. Man went to work at the crack of dawn, half the neighborhood was still asleep at that hour.
Sound of the Desert Eagle be like a cannon going off in the stillness, this was one powerful pistol he had here. Man comes out his house, starts walkin to his car, gets shot in the face. In, out, been nice to know you.
The house looked like the one in that movie Psycho, where the guy was runnin aroun in drag stabbin people. Hard to believe a cop livin in a place looked like it was from olden times. Once, drivin by at night when he was still thinkin maybe the best time to do it was after dark, he could see inside to where a floor lamp was standin, looked like the shade was all different-colored jewels. Touched his heart cause he seemed to recall a similar lamp when he was comin along, maybe in his grandma's house, though he couldn't imagine her possessing anything looked like it was jewels. Took him back, though. To someplace he couldn't hardly remember. Touched him.
Do it in broad daylight, shoot the man in the face and run off to where he'd have parked the car. What he planned on doing was giving the Honda back to Coral tonight, thank her proper in bed with a yard and a half.
Then go out around midnight, boost a car on the street, use the stolen vehicle for the thing tomorrow. He planned to wake up at five in the morning, drive up here to Riverhead, be in position by six-thirty latest, case the man decided to get to work even earlier than any human being had cause to.
Red-haired lady coming out of the house again, busy, busy, busy.
Carrying garbage to the bins on the side of the house this time.
Figured her to be in her sixties, maybe she was a maid, did cops have maids? In which case, how come she wun't black, huh? Or maybe a nanny. Did he have small kids? Woman hesitated on her way, gave the Honda another look as it went by. Sonny didn't speed up, didn't do nothin to indicate he was in any way troubled by the redhead's scrutiny. She was lookin at a car'd be ancient history by sundown tonight. Wearin glasses, probly squintin through 'em, trying catch the numbers on the license plate. So long, lady, been nice to know you.
Tomorrow mornin, Carella be history, too.
Sal Roselli was giving a piano lesson when they arrived at his house that Tuesday morning. His wife said he'd be finished at eleven o'clock, would they like to wait inside for him, where it was cool? They elected to sit out back in the sun. From inside the house, they could hear some kid murdering something that used to be classical before he got his hands on it. Or she. From the pounding, Carella automatically assumed it was a boy in there venting his fury. Except for the cacophony, the neighborhood was still. Roselli's two little girls were in the pool, their mother watching them from the kitchen window. The detectives almost dozed.
Roselli was wearing black jeans, loafers without socks, and a white, long-sleeved shirt with the cuffs rolled up when he joined them at a few minutes past the hour. He appeared sleepy-eyed, though it was already late in the morning. He explained to the detectives that he'd been out jamming late the night before, sitting in with a bunch of guys he knew who had a steady gig down in The Quarter.