Bob didn't seem to have heard the equivocal nature of the phrase. Through his hands, he confessed. "I didn't know what was happening at first. She was so lost, so unhappy. What Willy had done to her, casting her off. It was so cruel. I know he had it tough over there, but lots of people went through that without making everyone around them miserable, too. It's like Willy has to dominate every person he meets."
"What about Mary?" Gunther asked gently.
"She was a mess when she came to the city. She didn't know what to do, who to turn to, had no idea how to get a job. She was too shy to call Liptak right off. I just helped her out at first, got her an apartment, stuff like that."
"But without telling Junie."
He shuddered, took his hands away, and straightened slightly in his seat, looking at them in a hangdog way. "I told her about the first call, but not about afterward. Not that anything happened at first. Neither one of us was looking to do anything wrong, but things had been rough at home for me, and Mary was totally at loose ends." His voice trailed off and then he added weakly, "I guess we just sort of found comfort in each other's company for a while."
"How long did it last?"
He wiped his eyes with the borrowed handkerchief. "Not long. Maybe a couple of months. I wasn't the kind of man she was after, and I was too torn up with guilt to let it last much longer. It wasn't even that good while it lasted."
"Does your brother know anything about it?"
Bob sighed heavily. "I'm alive, aren't I?"
Joe Gunther thought that was a little melodramatic, but supposed Bob had to cling to a few misconceptions to maintain his dignity. "Well," he said, "since all that's out of the bag, maybe you can tell us a little more about Mary."
But Bob still wasn't so sure, and answered vaguely, "It didn't take her long to get comfortable in the city. She was thirsty for a change and angry at her life up till then-told me just before we split up that Willy had done her a favor. I guess that didn't turn out to be so true, after all."
"You implied there were other men," Sammie suggested.
He nodded sadly. "Even before we were finished. She was like a starving man at a feast. It made her very exciting to be with-for a while."
"So, you lived with the infidelities."
"Sure. What choice does a guy like me have? It was a miracle I got a part of her at all. Christ, I was grateful. I told myself it added to her sexiness." He slumped forward again, his elbows on his knees. "After it was over, I couldn't believe what I'd done. Junie must've thought I'd lost my mind, I spent so much attention on her. I suppose, in that way, Mary helped save my marriage."
"What about just recently?" Gunther asked. "Who made the first move to get in touch?"
Bob straightened, suddenly on surer footing. "She did, and this time Junie did know about it. There was nothing romantic there, anyhow. Mary just seemed to want to contact the people from her past she could trust. She even apologized for what had happened between us. It was like she was going back in time, repairing bridges."
Now his sorrow seemed genuinely about her, instead of inwardly focused. He added, "I just can't believe she died of an overdose. She sounded so sure of herself. So happy to be free."
"Including the very last time you spoke?" Sammie asked.
"Yes," he said incredulously. "That's what I'm saying. I really thought she'd licked it."
"I'd like to back up a little," Joe Gunther said. "When the two of you were together and she was beginning to act differently, was she already into drugs?"
"She'd smoke a joint. Said it relaxed her."
"Anything more serious?"
"She talked about it. Said she wondered what it would be like to get high on coke or heroin, but I don't think she ever tried it while I was around."
"Who supplied her with the joints?" Sammie asked.
"I assumed it was one of her boyfriends."
"You ever get to meet any of them?"
He shook his head. "Only Liptak. Once. It was at a party Mary threw at her apartment. But he was the only one I know of for sure. And it took a while before they actually did set up house."
"Tell us about Liptak," Gunther suggested.
"I don't know much except that he and Willy served together. That's how Mary met him. Willy introduced them on a trip to New York right after they were married. That's what I meant about Willy's bad luck, see?"
Gunther decided to leave that one alone. "Was Andy into drugs?"
"I think so. She called me a few times after they started living together," Bob said. "She sounded like she was on cloud nine, but sort of detached, too, you know what I mean? Like the reason she was having so much fun was so she wouldn't have to ask questions she didn't want answered."
In the silence that followed that statement, he added, "I can't swear to it, but it seemed like they were a matched pair."
"What happened with this Andy Liptak?"
"That's what Willy wanted to know. I told him: Nothing. Far as I know, he's making a lot of money being a wheeler-dealer in Brooklyn. He and Mary broke up after a few years."
"When was that?"
"I don't know dates, but it's not like she left him and then started calling me right after. In fact, I think it was after they broke up that she really hit bottom."
"You have an address on Liptak?"
Bob shook his head. "No. Never did. He shouldn't be hard to find, though. I think he's pretty rich. He called me," he added almost as an afterthought. "Just recently."
Sammie and Joe glanced at one another. "What about?" Gunther asked nonchalantly.
"He wanted to know how she was doing. Said he was married now and just got to thinking one day, sort of reliving old times."
"You tell him about her?"
"What little I knew, sure. He was happy she was bouncing back."
"Did he ask where she was living?" Sammie asked.
Bob thought back. "I don't think so. I couldn't have told him anyway."
"How 'bout Willy, Bob?" Gunther asked after a pause. "If you don't know where he is, can you think where he might be? Friends he had when he lived here, old haunts?"
Totally recovered now from his emotional breakdown, Bob gave them a chastened, war-weary look. "I don't know how long you've known my brother, but I wouldn't go looking for any old friends. He didn't make friends, and if for some reason someone tried it with him instead, he made sure it wouldn't last."
Gunther glanced at Sammie at that, but she was staring at the carpeted floor.
He rose to his feet. "Thanks, Bob. You've been a big help. And for what it's worth, I think having you in his life has helped Willy a lot, even if he'd never admit it."
Bob smiled weakly. "I guess that's good to hear."
Chapter 15
It was so dark in the alley that Willy Kunkle couldn't even see Riley Cox, although they were standing just four feet apart.
"That Marcus?" asked Riley in a disembodied whisper.
"According to my source, it is," said Willy. "From spiky hair to silver necklace-too far off to see the scar on his face. And I guess we're at the right address."
Willy watched Marcus cross the street, carefully check up and down the block, and then vanish into the entryway of a beaten-up building with the first two floors of windows covered in metal and a row of dented trash cans out front. Willy quickly trained his small telescope on the site, as he'd been doing throughout, steadying it against a drainpipe running down the wall beside him. They'd been standing here for several hours, waiting for some indication that their information was accurate. Not finding any clues at Nate Lee's apartment to Nate's whereabouts, Riley had taken them on a round of personal contacts to make inquiries. It hadn't taken long to find someone who claimed to know where Diablo was reportedly packaged for distribution. They'd also been told that there was good reason this brand had been around for a long time. The man in charge-nicknamed La Culebra, or the Snake-was known for his ruthlessness and a penchant for security. Riley's informant had described the address they were now looking at as a fortress. If it was, however, it didn't include the entire building. The traffic in and out up to now had been strictly mundane: moms with kids, old people, a few couples. And the windows of the upper floors had revealed the kind of normal activity one might expect in a regular apartment house. La Culebra might have been a tough nut, but he apparently wasn't well heeled or paranoid enough to claim the whole place as his own.