“You’re probably right, but let’s wait. The last thing we want is for this guy to see his picture in the paper and skip town.”
Tony took another look at the sketch. “You know, this guy looks familiar to me. I think I’ve run across him in my travels.”
“Well, if you have, it will come to you probably when you least expect it-like in the shower or something,” Nick said. “Take a copy of the sketch with you and start thinking about all the different places you’ve worked in your career. If you know him, he’ll pop up.”
“All right, I’ll give it a shot,” Tony said as he stuffed a copy of the sketch in his inside jacket pocket.
Meanwhile, Philly Gertz was getting his turn with Ralph. Their attempt to come up with a sketch of the woman who’d been with Angie was a little less successful. Ralph could draw the black hair, but the rest of Philly’s description just didn’t make it.
“She was beautiful.”
“In what way, Philly?”
“She was hot, you know what I mean? Legs up to her neck-man, I’m telling you, she was hot.”
“Can you give me any specifics about what she looked like?”
“I just did.”
“Can you describe her in any other way-her facial features, for instance?”
“All I can tell you is that they were like grapefruits. Not too big, just the right size. You know what I mean?”
“This guy’s impossible,” Ralph told Nick a half hour later. “If he tells me she had nice grapefruits one more time I’m going to club him.”
Nick shook his head knowingly. There were people who just couldn’t manage to provide an accurate description. It didn’t surprise him that Philly Gertz was one of them.
“Thanks, Ralph. I’ll let him go.”
Nick walked out into the waiting area where Philly was sitting.
“Ralph says you were a great help, Philly.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“Because I’m kind of a big-picture guy, you know? I’m not much for details.”
“Well, Ralph says he got the big picture.”
“Good, ’cause I was a little worried there.”
“No, you did fine. We’ll be in touch. Thanks again.”
“My pleasure, Nick. I won’t forget you guys, either-you know, when the press comes around.”
“Thanks, Philly.”
Nick had gotten in touch with Angie, and the next morning he and Tony arrived at her apartment to tie up some loose ends.
Angie looked much better this time. The dark circles under her eyes were gone and she appeared well rested. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. Nick could see the disappointment on Tony’s face. Tony had wanted to see Angie one more time in that nightgown. The man was hopeless. It wasn’t an entire disaster for Tony, however. Angie was just plain beautiful any way you cut it, and she looked especially sexy in jeans and a T-shirt.
“Won’t you come in, gentlemen?” She motioned to them with a polite smile on her face.
The apartment had changed quite a bit since their last visit. There were boxes everywhere, some of them half-filled, some already sealed.
“I’m not waiting for Carl’s family to get a court order. I’m getting my things and I’m getting out,” she told them before they could ask.
Tony and Nick both knew the operative part of that statement was “getting my things.” Once an executor was appointed, the apartment would be locked and all assets would be frozen. Angie was taking possession of what she could before that happened.
The couch and chairs were still there, however, and the three of them sat in the same seats as they had two days before.
“So what can I do for you?” Angie asked, her voice much stronger and more confident.
“We just want to ask a few more questions,” said Nick. “First of all, are you going to be okay? Do you have a place to stay?”
“Yes, I’ll be staying with my girlfriend in Queens. It’s not far, but it’s light-years away from here.” Both men nodded to let her know they understood. Queens was a blue-collar borough. Working people could no longer afford to live in Manhattan.
“We’re going to need that address and your friend’s telephone number,” Nick said as nonchalantly as he could.
“Fine. I’ll write them down. Anything else?” Nick noticed that her demeanor changed after he asked for the address. She sounded anxious, almost rude.
“What’s your friend’s name?”
“Barbara Verbinski.”
“Could you write her address and telephone number down for me now?”
“It’s Fifteen Demeter Avenue,” she said while writing on a piece of paper. “And this is her telephone number.” She handed the paper to Nick.
“You must know her pretty well-you didn’t have to look up her number.”
“I’m good with numbers. Now are we done?”
“Just a few more things,” Nick told her. He leaned forward in his chair. “During the course of our investigation we’ve learned that you had a woman staying with you a few days before Carl was murdered. Would that have been Ms. Verbinski?”
She hesitated momentarily. “No, it wasn’t Barbara.”
“Was this somebody else another friend, or a companion-”
“Just what are you implying, Detective?”
“I’m not implying anything, ma’am. I’m just asking a question.”
“Well then, yes, she was a friend.”
Nick had the commitment he needed. Now he could go to work. “Okay, she was a friend. What was her name?”
Angie didn’t hesitate. Nick knew she wouldn’t. Not yet. “Lois,” she replied.
“Lois what?”
“Barton. Lois Barton.”
“And how long have you and Lois known each other?”
“A while.”
“What does that mean-months, years?”
“Years, we’ve known each other for years. We’re good friends. Now if you two will just leave me alone, I need to get finished with my packing and get out of here.”
“I understand,” Nick said. “Just a couple more questions. Where does Lois live?”
Angie hesitated for the second time. Nick caught it right away. So did Tony, even though he didn’t seem to be concentrating all that hard on what she was saying. He was still trying to figure out if she was wearing a bra or not.
“Queens,” Angie finally replied.
“Where in Queens?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember her address.”
“I guess she’s not as good a friend as Barbara?”
“No, she’s not.”
“How about her telephone number?”
“I don’t remember that either.”
“Do you have it written down?”
“Somewhere.”
“Could you get it for us?”
“Not right now.” Angie stood up abruptly. “Look, I’ve got work to do here. I’d like to sit around and chat but I don’t have time.”
Neither Nick nor Tony moved. “We’ll be leaving in a minute,” Nick said, maintaining his soft, calm tone. “Where does Lois work?”
Angie slumped back on the couch. “I don’t know. I don’t know,” she replied, and then she started to cry.
Nick waited a minute or so, then continued in the same tone.
“Angie, Tony and I are professionals. We’re not here to judge you. We’re investigating a murder and you are a witness in that murder investigation. We’re going to find the truth eventually, and if you don’t give it to us you may subject yourself to criminal penalties. I know you were not involved in this murder. So I’m advising you for your own good-tell us everything.”
Angie stared at her lap, silently crying. Tony, the other professional in the room, waited anxiously to hear the exotic details of Angie and Lois Barton’s relationship. Nick had broken her down very quickly and very skillfully. Most cops would have tried to intimidate her and would have gotten nowhere.
“You have no idea what it’s like being alone all the time,” Angie began when she had composed herself somewhat. “I couldn’t bring another man into the picture. That wouldn’t work. I met Lois at a local bar a couple of weeks before Carl’s murder. We went out a few times together before I invited her home. It was nice-much nicer than I thought it was going to be. I’d never been with a woman before. It seemed to be going so well. Then she just disappeared a few days before Carl was killed.”