Authors: Lawrence Light,Meredith Anthony
After Megan had finished with the last client, she stopped to see Nita,
who was poring over the crisis center’s books. “You do everything,”
Megan said.“If it weren’t for you, this place would fall apart.”
“I’m going to recommend to Dr. Solomon that we get new
accountants,” Nita said. “The firm we have now is far too slow.Would
you take a minute and feed the fish?”
“I’d love to,” Megan said.
“Let’s have dinner tonight,” Nita suggested.
“Dinner? Well, um, I ...”
Tim came breezing through. “Oh, what a horrid day. When
are
we going to replace Reuben? I’m so swamped I could die.”
“Probably by next month, Tim,” Nita said. “Our grant from the
city should come unstuck by then. Meanwhile, you’re doing a wonderful job coping. Everyone has noticed.”
“They have?”Tim threw back his shoulders.
“Not everyone has been able to tough it out as well as you have,”
Nita said. “Poor Rose, for instance. Reuben’s death has devastated her.”
“I know,” Tim said. “Poor thing. I called to ask what I could do.
She wants to be alone.”
“She told me you called. She’s very touched.” Nita picked up a
piece of paper and examined it. “Incidentally, I realize you’re shouldering a real burden, but could I ask you to take Rose’s Wednesday
morning group?”
“Which is that?”
“The homeless ladies?”
Tim blanched. “Lord, those horrible old —”
“If you’d rather not, I’m sure we can find someone else,” Nita
said.
“No, no, no,” Tim burst, distressed to have disappointed Nita.
“I’ll be happy to. No problem.”
“They’re actually very nice women,” Megan said, helping out.
Tim scanned Megan up and down. “My, my, my, you’re looking
hot tonight, my dear. Got a date?”
“Well, I —” Megan felt as if he had yanked the shower curtain
back to reveal her shameful secret.
“I was standing by the window when that hunky detective let you
out of his muscle car. He opened the door for you. Very gallant. And
you
. It was like you were walking on air.”
“I better feed the fish,” Megan managed.
Tim cleared his throat archly. “Bon appétit,” he said, and wafted
away.
Megan met Nita’s half-closed eyes. Megan knew she must look
guilty.What was Nita thinking?
After an eternity, Megan said, “What?”
“He won’t be good to you,” Nita said. Her tone was matterof-fact, but there were steely barbs beneath the surface. “He’s a cop.
They’re macho. They don’t like women. They don’t trust women.
They only trust other cops.They aren’t called pigs for nothing.”
“Nita, it’s only dinner,” Megan said with an unconvincing laugh.
“Don’t forget the fish.They’re hungry.”
They walked silently down the block, the very picture of a perfect date.
“There’s a great Italian restaurant I like,” he offered. “You like
Italian food?”
“That would be fine,” she said in a tone that indicated anything
would be fine.
“That’s good. In Manhattan these days we have an infinite choice
of restaurants. We have Italian. Then there’s Italian. And in a pinch,
there’s always Italian.”
She laughed.
As they turned a corner, Megan turned serious. “How’s your
mom?”
Over dinner, they talked about their families, their childhoods,
and their friends. Nothing about the case or the crisis center. Nothing
about Nita.
Dave watched approvingly as Megan ate with gusto.They finished
two bottles of chianti.
When he drove her home, Megan turned to Dave to thank him.
She meant to give him a quick kiss on the cheek and go home but
somehow his lips trapped hers and held them. Only their mouths connected, he did not reach for her or hold her. She gave in to the kiss for
a minute and was just about to pull away when Dave’s hand reached
up and found, through her blouse, through her bra, her nipple. He
pinched it between his fingers, hard, hard enough to make her gasp,
first with pain but instantly with the most exquisite pleasure. Her
entire body flooded with sudden heat.
By unspoken agreement, they left the car and walked quickly
into her building. Megan walked in front, breathing hard. She looked
back once and smiled wantonly. She walked up the narrow stairs of
her building ahead of him, and he watched her ass and her pretty legs
climb.As she worked the keys in her door locks, her fingers trembled.
Inside, the door closed against the night, no light yet lit, crackling magnetism took over.They turned to each other and kissed again,
softly at first, exploring, hesitating, then with abandon. Their open
mouths crushed together and their hands roved over each other’s bodies. Clothing was opened or removed. Megan found herself making
small animal noises, as Dave sucked her breast.
“Know what I’d like to do?” Dave panted at her.
“What?” Megan gasped.
“Too dirty out loud. Better whisper.” He put his lips against her
ear and licked.
“God, yes,” Megan said, moaning. “Please, yes.”
When the phone first sounded, they were too busy on the bed to
hear. Or to want to hear.
Most of their clothes were off. Dave was pinching her nipples
again as his hot mouth worked its way down her squirming torso.
Megan thought incoherently that if he didn’t enter her soon, she
would die. Her entire being seemed concentrated in the spot between
her legs and she knew that when his lips touched her there she would
explode.
Unnoticed, the phone rang several times, then the answering
machine kicked in. Megan hadn’t turned off the volume.
“Ms. Morrison, this is Detective Loud,” came Jamie’s voice. “I’m
looking for Detective Dillon, and he signed out that he might be out
with you tonight. If you could, please tell him —”
Dave jumped off the bed and grabbed the phone. He made an
effort to control his breathing. “What is it, Jamie?” He felt for the
volume control and turned it to zero.
“We’ve arrested Ace Cronen,” Jamie told him. “A half hour ago
on the Deuce. Looks like this is it. He’s carrying a .45 that might be
the murder weapon.”
“I’ll be right there.” He hung up.
“What is it?” Megan panted.
“They arrested a suspect,” Dave said, buttoning his shirt back up.
“I have to go, Megan. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” Megan said.
Jamie sat in front of the large one-way window that revealed the interrogation room, like a widescreen TV. Beside her, a man sat hunched
over a video camera, recording the questioning. Inside the room, Ace
was slouched in a hard-backed chair, a study in insolence. Safir sat in
front of him, backward in a chair, his legs spread-eagled.Wise walked
back and forth in his Florsheims, doing his caged tiger imitation.
When Dave came in he nodded to Jamie and stood beside her to
watch. His clothes were disheveled and his hair mussed. He stood
close enough for her to smell a woman’s perfume on him, but not the
scent of sex.
Dave pointed at Ace. “This hump is confessing?”
“Not only that.You’d think he’d won the lottery.”
“You picked him up on the Deuce, huh?” Dave said.
“Yeah,” Jamie said. “A couple of uniforms bagged him going into
the Foxy Lady. He had a piece on him, a .45, but he offered no resistance. He’s cocky, admits everything. Blake is really relieved. He’s
locked in a meeting now with Mancuso, figuring how to handle the
media.”
“Ballistics says it was the .45 that did the murders?”
“On a preliminary basis.They’re studying the rifling on the barrel
now, to make absolutely sure, but it looks like this is it. Congratulations, Dave.”
Jamie grinned at him, as happy as Christmas morning. “Blake says
it’s your collar. Said he’d make sure Mancuso was informed.”
“For what that’s worth,” Dave said skeptically.
The questioning came over the squawk box.Wise showed Ace an
arrest dossier. “This your picture?”
Ace examined the arrest photo from his younger days in New
Jersey. “Hey, that’s cool. I’m looking pretty good there. They nailed
me for armed robbery.”
“You, a big-time armed robbery hard-ass?” Safir said. “Turns out,
according to this, that all you ever did was stand lookout for the kid
who was holding the iron.”
“My mama was banging the top cop in town, so they did me a
favor.What can I say? He got lucky and so did I.”
Wise displayed another photo to Ace. “Who’s she?”
“Evelyn Hernandez. She liked me.Thought I looked pretty good
too.”
“What did you do to her, Ace?” Safir asked.
“I broke her heart, then I blew her head off.”
“So you killed Evelyn Hernandez?”Wise asked.
“Put one right through her right eye. Blam.”
“These chicks were all over-the-top stupid to trust you,” Safir
said. “I mean, to come to these deserted locations with nobody
around. I call that fucking stupid.”
“You said it, my man. Stupid as whale shit. But they saw me
around the crisis center and they liked my style.”
“What were you doing going to the crisis center, Ace?” Safir
asked. “You having a crisis?”
Ace had to ponder that. “Fuck, not me. I ain’t no loonie. I went
there to meet chicks. Chicks love me.”
Dave read the preliminary ballistics report before he entered the
interrogation room.
“Why, it’s the great Detective Dillon,” Ace said. “What an honor.
You gonna hit me tonight, Dillon?”
“Where’d you get the .45, Ace?” Dave asked.
“Shit, I don’t remember. It was years ago. Man needs to defend
himself.”
“All those arrests you racked up on the Deuce, each time you
weren’t armed. How do you explain that, Ace?” Dave stood over him,
dangling the ballistics report.
“I ain’t stupid, Dillon. If I’m lifting some poor fool’s billfold, I
ain’t gonna be packing. In case you pricks collar my ass. Makes the
sentence lighter, you understand.” Ace smirked at Dave.
“This .45 is at least forty years old.Yet it has been very well maintained. How come we didn’t find any gun-cleaning materials in your
room?”
Ace pondered once more. “Guess I must’ve run out. I been busy,
see?”
“But I hear you said earlier in the interrogation that you killed
Reuben Silver because you confessed to him over the phone, then
when he came out to meet you, you changed your mind,” Dave said.
He hunched down to eye level with Ace.
“Yeah, well, what’s your point, Dillon?” Ace sneered.
“Why would a clever guy elude the police this successfully, and
suddenly decide to confess to his social worker?”
“Beats the shit out of me, Dillon. Why don’t you ask Reuben
Silver?”
“I’m asking you, Ace.”
“Maybe I had a momentary lapse, Dillon. Didn’t you ever have a
momentary lapse?” Ace jeered meaningfully.
Dave’s hands curled into fists. He seemed ready to bite Ace’s
laughing face in two.
“Don’t, Dave,” Safir said.
“Not worth it,”Wise said.
“Now that you dumb fucks finally got me,” Ace said, “I might as
well tell you what happened.”
Dave stalked back into the adjoining room. Blake was there.
“Good news, Dave,” the lieutenant said. “Ballistics has a positive
match on the weapon. It definitely killed all four women and Mr.
Silver.” He smiled like a pennant winner. “Press conference in the
morning, right before the arraignment.”
“Something’s wrong,” Dave said.
Blake’s smile dropped a kilowatt. “Dave, for Pete’s sake. He has a
thorough knowledge of the killings. Mentioned shooting through the
right eye. And he was holding the murder weapon. It’s U.S. Armyissue, during the Korean War.”
“Long before Ace was born,” Dave said.
Blake shrugged in exasperation and turned to Jamie as if for help.
Jamie put a hand on Dave’s shoulder. “Listen, it’s post-victory
letdown or something. Why don’t we get out of here and do a little
celebrating?”
“Sorry, Jamie, I’ve got work to do.”
“We don’t need you for the interrogation, Dave,” Blake said.
“Why don’t you two go tip a few wet ones?”
Dave scowled. “I’m not done yet.”
Dave spent hours spooling through Ace’s videotaped confession.Then
he studied the ballistics report. He went over the notes from the crisis
center files. He went out and walked the gaudy Deuce, back and forth
in front of the Foxy Lady, where Ace had been collared.
Finally, he went home to his cat’s complaining meows and
opened up a tin of cat food.
“That’s what you get for marrying a cop,” he told the cat as he set
its food dish on the floor.The cat sniffed at the food and peered up at
Dave in indignation. “Oh, all right.” He sprinkled some cat crunchies
over the wet food in the bowl, and watched the cat attack the meal.
Dave stood in front of the victims’ bloody pictures. He tried to
see Ace in their eyes. If Ace pulled a gun on them, would they show
that same surprise? What bothered Dave was that the victims had to
have trusted their killer. Could anyone trust Ace? Ace said they were
summoned to the traps under false pretenses.
Maybe the housewife and the hooker were dumb enough to go to
a deserted place. And maybe the cheerleader was naïve enough. But
the stockbroker? Kimberly Worth was a savvy, high-powered woman.
Wall Street didn’t teach trust. Why would she venture into a lonely
park after dark with a lowlife like Ace?
Dave stood before Reuben’s photo and tried to climb into his
mind. Reuben knew Ace the best. The pain of death seemed almost
eclipsed by the shock on what was left of his rubbery face.Would the
transformation of big-talking Ace into an actual gunman bring on such
an expression?
Near dawn, with the cat cradled in his arm, Dave fell into an
exhausted sleep. Right before the alarm rang, he was dreaming not of
gunmen and murder but of Megan and her bewitching smile.
He arrived at work just in time to join the Ladykiller task force
gathered around the TV. Mancuso was holding a live press conference.
All the chief of detective’s toadies stood behind him proudly.The only
person there who was part of the Ladykiller investigation, Blake, was
off to the side, barely in camera range. He wasn’t smiling.
But Mancuso was. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrested a
suspect in the Ladykiller case,” Mancuso announced solemnly. He
went on to describe Ace’s past, saying he had been arrested for armed
robbery as a teenager. “This man is a vicious criminal. He has a long
arrest record.”
“Of course most of that record is for picking pockets,”Wise said.
“Viciously picking pockets,” Safir said.
Dave recognized Jimmy Conlon’s voice asking how Ace had
been apprehended. “My team assembled a personality profile of the
perpetrator,” Mancuso said, his distaste for the media overshadowed
by his jubilation. “We distributed it to all uniformed patrols.Two alert
officers on 42nd Street stopped Cronen for questioning and found a
.45 on him. The weapon turned out to be the ballistics match of the
murder weapon, and he confessed to everything.”
A murmur of outrage from the Ladykiller task force swelled as
Mancuso answered more questions.
After the press conference, the others stormed off. Dave sat and
watched Ace being led into the courthouse for his arraignment on the
murder charges. Although surrounded by big, thick-bodied officers,
Ace could clearly be seen by the camera. His skinny frame and nervously grinning face gave him the appearance of a hyperactive child.
Someone managed to thrust a microphone through the phalanx
of cops. “Why did you kill them?”
“They were stupid.”
A cop shoved the correspondent’s arm and mike out of their
protective circle, and they moved on.
“He loves this,” Dave murmured to himself.
Dave returned to his desk and phoned Dr. Solomon to make
arrangements to examine Reuben’s files. “I realize they may have used
other names and worn disguises, but we’d like to try to establish that
the victims were Reuben’s clients.”
“Oh, of course. If you need to,” Dr. Solomon said distractedly.
“We’re overrun with the media. Thank goodness Nita is handling
them. It’s all most perplexing.”
Dave phoned Jimmy from a phone booth outside, hoping he
would be back in the newsroom. He was.
“Chip is ragging me for not getting this story ahead of the press
conference,” Jimmy said. “Told me one of his little Ivy League,
squash-playing buddies could do a better job. I wanted to ask Mancuso
about your contribution, but I figured that would just make trouble
for you.”
“That’s for sure,” Dave said. “Listen, with any luck, I’ll have a big
news break for you by day’s end. I’ll try to make it before your deadline. I just can’t say anything yet.”
“Give me a hint.”
“Can’t. But, Jimmy —”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t go anywhere.”
Like ancient evil, the tawdry filth of late morning hung about the
Deuce: the neon glow of the nudie reviews was dim and ghastly in the
full light, the people sallow and sunken instead of fluid and mysterious, the sun itself a broken yolk mess. Dave looked into each face he
met until he found the right one.
Finesse nodded Dave into the dark, urine-soaked recess of a
shuttered store’s doorway. “Do you believe that shit?” Finesse said.
“Our own little Ace is the Ladykiller himself. My, my, my, how the
donkey does fly.”
Dave leafed through a wad of bills. “Where did he get the gun?”
“Funny you should ask me that little thing,” Finesse said, ogling
the money as Dave’s cat did its food dish. “Day before yesterday, I’d
say, Ace was wanting to borrow some two hundred large. I wouldn’t
piss my hard-earned money away, but somebody did. Heard Ace used
it to buy hisself a piece from Tony Topnut.”
“The day before yesterday?”
“Sure as shit.”
“Pleasure doing business with you, my man,”
Finesse gleefully pocketed the dollars. “But I ain’t one to gossip,
As the afternoon eased into its yellow home stretch, the reporters,
photographers, and TV camera crews left, and the West Side Crisis
Center began to return to normal. Clients, scared off by the commotion, came out of hiding. They needed heavy reassurance that, even
though Ace had been a regular, they had been safe.
“I loved him like a son,” the old man howled in the corner. “Do
you know what it’s like for a man to lose his son?”
“He wasn’t your son,” Nita told him firmly. “Now, we’ve
arranged a small snack for you.Why don’t you join the others?”
The clients soothed, Nita collapsed at her desk chair in exhaustion.
Dr. Solomon came dithering up to her and said, “Marvelous job
today, Nita. Really first-rate. Do you know where I left my glasses?
Sometimes I —”
“By your seat in the conference room.”
Sweeney ambled into the room, adjusting his zipper. He gave
Nita a big, friendly, reassuring smile. “So, they nailed that sucker, huh?”
“Sweeney, what are you doing here?” Nita asked, sitting up.
“I know I’m a little early, but I could use the overtime. The day
guy’s kid took sick and his wife had to work.”
“I mean, we don’t need protection anymore.They’ve arrested the
killer.”
“I do what I’m told, and nobody has told me not to come here to
stand duty. It beats walking the beat.”
Megan, nervous, floated into the room. She poured some coffee
and approached Nita’s desk. “What a day. No peace. I . . . I came by to
see how you were.”
Nita glanced at Sweeney, who was watching them both with interest. “You know, Sweeney, I could go for a sandwich about now.”
Sweeney hitched up his belt. “Hey, there’s an idea. Guess you two
want to talk girl talk, huh?” After Nita gave him a sharp look, he continued, “Uh, women talk. People talk.” He laughed.
“Corned beef on rye?” Nita said.
“You got it,” Sweeney said. He looked questioningly at Megan,
who was clenching and unclenching her hands.
“She’ll share mine,” Nita said.
Sweeney nodded and left.
Nita arched an eyebrow at Megan. “And they say one is never
around when you need him. So.Your little investigation is concluded,
it appears.”
Megan sighed. “It appears.”
“And how was your date with Inspector Clouseau?”
“He had to leave early.When they arrested that guy, Dave had to,
well . . . leave.”
“Too bad.”
“I just don’t know what to do,” Megan said. “What’s wrong with
me?”
“Nothing’s wrong with you.You’re doing fine.”
“I
was
doing fine, and now my life doesn’t make any sense, somehow,” Megan said.
“Maybe you simply need more time,” Nita said. “That detective
seems to be taking a lot of your time. Please don’t tell me you’re upset because he hasn’t called.”
Megan’s eyes filled with tears. She dabbed at them. “You’re right.
He hasn’t called.”
Nita leaned across the desk and spoke firmly to the younger
woman: “Megan, you’ve got to get your concentration back. You’re
falling apart.”
“I haven’t felt like this about anyone for a long time.”
“And look what happened the time before.You want my advice,
Megan?”
Megan said, “Yes,” softly, her expression pleading.
Nita’s face was as hard as New York pavement. “Dump him,
Megan. I have a bad feeling about him.”
Megan looked searchingly at her friend.
“You’ve got your career,” Nita went on. “You’ve got your goals.
He’ll get in your way.”
“Oh, no. He’d never —”
“Yes, he would. And let me tell you something else. He would
never let you interfere with
his
work. He’ll leave you at a moment’s
notice, day or night, since his work is more important than yours ever
could be. If you’re convenient for him, fine. If not, he’ll forget you
until he needs you again.”
Megan blushed at the possibility.
“Listen,” Nita said, “remember the Faust myth? He’s tempting
you with empty promises. He wants your soul.”
As Megan listened, she began to cry. “It’s awful. I don’t know
what to do.”
In a rage, Nita exploded out of her chair and flew up to her
young protégé. Megan cowered and shrunk before her. Nita pushed
her into a seat, and she stood over the younger woman, powerful and
dangerous.
“Stop this,” she shouted at Megan. “Stop whining. If you want to
throw yourself away on this cop, do it. If you want to fuck him, then
fuck him. But stop whining. Christ, how I hate victims.”
Megan stifled a sob. “You don’t know him. He’s a wonderful
man. A kind man. A strong man. Nita —”
“I know him perfectly. And I know you.” Nita put her hands on
Megan’s shoulders.
Megan lifted her water-streaked face up to Nita. “What?” she
asked beseechingly, almost fearfully.
With her fingertips, Nita gently traced the line of Megan’s
cheek. Megan trembled slightly at her touch and her lips parted. Nita
leaned closer and looked deep into her eyes. Megan thought, for an
instant, that Nita was going to kiss her, but she did not.The startlingly
intimate moment left both women breathless.