by Tom Bradby
Quinn followed her out to the hall. He picked up the earpiece. ‘It’s Schneider. Bring in the broad.’
‘Mrs Duncan?’
‘How many you got down there, Detective?’
Before Quinn could answer, the line went dead.
CHAPTER THIRTY
THE BULL’S TEAM LOOKED LIKE ALLEY CATS IN A CREAMERY. BRANDON had his feet on the desk and was waving a newspaper with his own grinning face plastered across the front page. O’Reilly and the others sat in a circle around him, drinking coffee and smoking. Schneider hurried past them. ‘Mrs Duncan, I appreciate this. We’re real sorry to trouble you at this time.’
‘I understand.’
He ushered her into his office.
The uniformed officer on the floor below was grinning from ear to ear. ‘The Bull’s sure hit the jackpot this time!’
Quinn lit a cigarette and offered him the packet. ‘You’re Ralph, right?’
‘Seamus – Seamus Carrigan.’
‘Are they in position, Seamus?’
‘Sure are. Schneider said Mrs D was on her way, so we got them lined up. They ain’t too happy.’
‘Mind if we take a look?’
‘Be my guest.’
‘Which one is he?’
‘Second from left. Seems pretty cool for a guy bound for the Chair.’
Quinn forced a smile. ‘What’s his name?’
‘They call him Chile. Chile Acuna.’
Carrigan leant forward conspiratorially. ‘They say he’s a strong-arm guy, used to hang around the Bowery. They figure it’s a carbon copy of Rothstein. Duncan fell out with this guy over a poker game and Acuna comes looking for his dough. One of the Bull’s stoolies gave him the tip-off.’
Quinn and Caprisi stepped into the narrow corridor and pulled back the hatch. Chile Acuna was a sallow young man in a cheap suit and a slouch hat. ‘Looks pretty relaxed, considering,’ Quinn said. There wasn’t a hood within striking distance of the Bowery who didn’t know what it meant to be brought in by the Bull. Conviction always followed, guilty or not.
They heard voices and retreated down the corridor as McCredie and Brandon ushered Mrs Duncan through. The chief of detectives gave them a nod. ‘You okay, boys?’
‘Yes, sir. Just came to see how the real work’s done.’
McCredie whispered a few words of reassurance to Mrs Duncan before he pulled back the hatch. She had to stoop a little to look through. ‘Take your time,’ McCredie murmured. ‘There’s no hurry. You’ve just got to be sure.’
They waited in silence. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘That’s him. Second from left.’
McCredie slammed the hatch shut. ‘You’re certain?’
‘Couldn’t be more so.’
‘You want to take another look?’
‘No.’
‘You’re sure, ma’am?’ Brandon asked. ‘I don’t like to press you, but with the newspaper interest and all … I mean, we know he’s the guy, but—’
‘I’m sure,’ she said.
Quinn followed them out. ‘You want us to take Mrs Duncan home?’
‘No,’ Brandon said.
‘I’m all right, thank you,’ she said. ‘I have some business close by.’
‘Are you sure, ma’am?’ McCredie asked. ‘Johnny here would be only too happy to—’
‘I asked my driver to wait. But thank you for your assistance.’ She glanced from one to the other. ‘I’m glad the matter is resolved.’
Gloria Duncan made her way to the elevator. McCredie and Brandon followed at a discreet distance.
‘I’ll see you upstairs,’ Quinn muttered to his partner.
‘Where are you going?’ Caprisi asked.
‘I’ll tell you later.’
Quinn whipped around to the Centre Street entrance in time to intercept her as she reached the Lincoln. ‘Mrs Duncan? Would you have a minute?’
‘For what?’
‘Can I buy you a cup of coffee?’
She gave a tight smile. ‘I’ve just identified my husband’s killer, Detective. I’m not sure your timing is impeccable.’
‘It’s your husband I wanted to talk about.’
She tucked her handbag under her arm. ‘Is that so? What more is there to say?’
‘Mrs Duncan, I can explain.’
‘Gloria,’ she said. ‘Mrs Duncan was my mother-in-law.’
Quinn smiled back. ‘I’ll call you whatever you want, ma’am, if I can just buy you that cup of coffee.’
Gloria Duncan spoke quietly to her driver and picked up a raincoat from the rear seat of the Lincoln. They walked a couple of blocks and took a table by a window in the corner of a diner. Quinn pulled the curtain half shut. ‘Are you ashamed to be seen with me, Detective?’ she asked. ‘Or are you shy of the sun?’
He waved over a waitress and ordered.
‘Are you married?’ she asked.
‘No.’
‘You should be, handsome fellow like you.’
The waitress brought the coffee and they sipped it in silence. Now that they were sitting so close, Quinn could see the lines around her eyes.
‘So, what is it you need to know so urgently?’ she said.
‘I wanted to ask a few questions about your husband.’
‘So you said.’ She brought out her cigarette holder and waited for him to strike a match. ‘There’s no great secret. I hated his goddamn guts and I don’t care who knows it.’
‘Ma’am, Mr Duncan has only just—’
‘I thought you were interested in the truth, Detective.’ She drew smoke deep into her lungs. ‘Do you know his kind?’
‘Well, ma’am, not—’
‘God couldn’t be any more arrogant. They rule the greatest city on earth, they’re very rich men and they figure there is nothing – nothing – they cannot possess. And they might well be right.’
‘Ma’am—’
‘Gloria. Are you surprised, Detective, by what lies in a woman’s heart? You shouldn’t be. You look like you’ve been around the block a couple times. Why does a woman hate the man she was fool enough to marry?’ She leant closer. ‘He had a weakness for Ziegfeld girls, and I should know because I was one.’
‘That why he was killed?’
‘Not according to your superiors.’
‘What did they tell you?’
‘You mean they’re not being entirely frank with you?’ she said. ‘Why, there’s a surprise.’ There was laughter in her eyes, and the same challenge she’d offered in the hallway of her home. ‘They told me it’s a ringer for the Rothstein case. My husband was lured into bad company. He got in too deep, lost out in a couple of big card games, and when they came to collect, he wouldn’t pay.’
‘Your husband was a very rich man, ma’am, but we understand some of his possessions were never paid for.’
‘He was arrogant, greedy and stubborn as a mule. And if you call me “ma’am” one more time I’ll get up and walk right out.’
‘So how does Mr Chile Acuna fit into all this?’
‘They told me he was the gambler to whom my husband owed money.’
‘And where had you seen him before?’
‘He came to the house.’
‘When?’
‘The night before Spencer’s death.’
‘And they told you he was the killer?’
She concentrated hard on her coffee.
‘And you believed them?’
She didn’t look up. ‘Yes.’
‘You figure it fits?’
‘I’m not sure I care if it doesn’t. I told you, I hated his guts. I’m only too pleased he’s dead. That way, I don’t have to divorce him.’
‘You should be careful who you share those sentiments with, Mrs Duncan.’
A waitress came to them and asked if they wanted anything to eat. They said no. Quinn watched her walk away, teetering on high heels. ‘So who do you figure killed him?’
She shrugged.
‘You really don’t care, do you?’
<
br /> ‘No.’
‘Then why are you here?’
Now she looked at him. ‘You’re not part of their crowd, are you?’
‘I guess not.’
‘That sounds dangerous.’
‘You said your husband had a weakness for Ziegfeld girls. Do you have any idea which ones?’
‘No.’
‘He had a mistress?’
‘A great many, I should think.’
‘Do you know who they were?’
‘No.’
‘Did he treat women well?’
‘You mean did he treat me well?’
‘Did he?’
‘No. He was a bastard.’
‘Rough?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘Can you think of anyone else who might have wanted to kill him?’
‘Jilted lovers, angry fathers and brothers. Take your pick.’
‘Do you have anyone particular in mind?’
‘How about me?’ There was suddenly real hurt in her eyes. ‘I had more reasons than the rest of them put together.’ She stood. ‘May I leave you with the check?’
‘Mrs Duncan—’
‘Gloria, goddamn it!’
‘You’ve never seen Chile Acuna before in your life.’
‘Are you calling me a liar?’
‘It’s what they asked you to say. They took you aside and told you they had this guy nailed straight, that some stoolie had fingered him, they were sure it was on the level, but they needed you to identify him to be certain of a conviction.’
She froze. ‘I think you should be careful whom you take to coffee in future, Detective. I can see you don’t know much about the ways of this city.’
‘But I’m right.’
‘Being right won’t make you popular.’
‘Do you know a guy called Moe Diamond?’
‘No.’
Quinn took out his wallet and flicked through it.
‘If you’re having trouble with the check,’ she said haughtily, ‘I’m sure I can help out.’
He dropped a photograph of his father on the table. Gerry was in uniform, standing outside the First Precinct station house. ‘Do you know this man?’
She picked it up. ‘Sure I know him. He’s been around to the house a couple of times.’
‘When?’
‘I don’t know. Does it matter?’
‘It might. When was the last time you saw him?’
‘A few days ago.’
‘Do you know his name?’
‘If I’d taken an interest in every gentleman who came to visit Spencer, I should have considered myself most unwise.’
‘What did he do?’
‘Spencer took him into his study, like he did everyone else.’ She picked up her handbag and managed to smile. ‘Now you’ve probably had your money’s worth, Detective, and that’s certainly as far as I’m prepared to go on a first date.’
She stalked away and the café door banged shut behind her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHILE ACUNA SAT WITH HIS FEET ON THE DESK, SMOKING A cigarette. He showed not the slightest sign of unease. In fact, he seemed to be singing to himself.
Quinn touched Carrigan’s arm and pointed towards the glass window. ‘Mind if we have a chat with him, Seamus?’
Carrigan frowned. ‘Sure, Joe. But … you should go tell the Bull – it’s his suspect, right?’
‘It’s okay. We told the Bull already.’ Quinn slipped into the interview room before he could be contradicted.
Acuna didn’t budge, so Caprisi swept his feet off the desk.
‘Hey!’ The prisoner jumped to his feet.
‘Sit down.’
Acuna fingered the brim of his hat.
Quinn reached down and flicked the light switch beneath the desk. ‘Good afternoon, Chile. I’m Detective Quinn and this is my colleague, Detective Caprisi. You can call us both “sir”.’
‘Kiss my ass.’ Acuna snorted. He was an unattractive man, with greasy hair, narrow cheeks, an unshaven chin and dark, deep-set eyes; the kind of guy you’d leave the sidewalk to avoid.
‘Want another cigarette, Chile?’
‘I got my own.’
Quinn took one from his pocket and lit it. He threw the case across to Caprisi.
Acuna blinked rapidly as he scrutinized them both. ‘You with the Bull?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Then how come I ain’t never seen you before?’
‘Just unlucky, I guess,’ Caprisi said.
‘I told Johnny all I know.’
‘Johnny’s a friend?’
Acuna frowned. ‘He’s a cop, for Christ’s sake!’
‘Known him long?’
‘Everyone knows Johnny.’
‘What do you do for a business, Chile?’
‘Nothing much.’
‘That’s a fancy outfit for a guy who does nothing much.’
‘I’m a gentleman of means and leisure.’
‘So, you’re a gambler?’ Quinn said.
‘A businessman.’
Acuna slid his feet back on the desk and Quinn made no move to prevent him. ‘Where exactly do you conduct your business?’ he asked.
‘I got a place downtown.’
‘Where?’
‘That’s my affair.’
‘In the Bowery?’
‘Maybe.’
‘How long you been one of the Bull’s stoolies, Chile?’
Acuna was on his feet. ‘Jesus Christ, who said that? I ain’t nobody’s stool pigeon.’ A muscle fluttered in his cheek. ‘I ain’t stooling for nobody, not Johnny or anybody else.’
‘It’s okay, Chile,’ Quinn said. ‘You’re among friends.’
Acuna stared at them. ‘Johnny’s got me down here on a murder rap and you think he’s a friend of mine?’
‘Sit down.’
‘You guys are crazy. I thought you said—’
‘I said sit down.’
Reluctantly Acuna did so. Quinn saw Caprisi nod. ‘You think it’ll be Sing Sing?’ Quinn asked. ‘Or the Chair?’
‘I ain’t done nothing.’
‘You seem pretty relaxed for a guy bound for the Chair,’ Caprisi said.
‘I told you, I ain’t done nothing wrong.’
‘What did they promise you, Chile?’
‘Who?’
‘The Bull and his crowd. What was it they promised?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Sure you do.’
Acuna leapt to his feet again. ‘Who the hell are you guys? Is this some kind of Confidential Squad bullshit?’
‘The Confidential Squad was disbanded,’ Quinn said.
‘Yeah? Well, you said you were from Johnny’s mob, but I ain’t never seen you before.’
‘We’re working another case, Chile, is all. You answer a few questions and we’re out of here.’
‘Like what?’
‘Did you know Charlie Matsell?’
Acuna stepped briskly across and banged on the window. He shouted for the guard. Caprisi bent one of Acuna’s hands behind his back and manhandled him to the chair. As he tried to get up again, Quinn stamped so hard on his toe that he squealed like a pig.
When he’d stopped yelling, he said, ‘That hurt.’
Quinn struck him hard across the face. ‘How about that?’
‘Jesus!’
‘Quit taking the name of Our Lord in vain.’
Acuna stared at him as if he were mad. ‘I want to see the Bull!’ He made another break for the door.
‘Sit down.’
‘I don’t know who you guys are, but he’ll cut your balls right off.’
‘Sit down!’
Caprisi shoved the chair into the back of Acuna’s knees and pushed him onto it. Acuna had dropped what remained of his cigarette and Caprisi stepped forward to tread it out. ‘You answer a few questions, Chile,’ Quinn said, ‘and you can kiss us goodbye. So, let’s try once more. What did they promise you?’
<
br /> ‘I got no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘They said you’d have to take the heat for a few months, while the story was on the front page, but then they’d let the evidence drop at the prelim and you’d be out with a free hand?’
Acuna was silent.
‘You figure they’ll stick to the bargain, Chile?’
Quinn went out into the corridor and picked up a copy of the Sun from beside Carrigan’s desk. ‘Everything all right, Joe?’ the officer asked. Should I call the Bull and just tell him that—’
Quinn closed the door on Carrigan and dropped the newspaper in front of Acuna. ‘You seen your handiwork?’
Acuna glanced at it.
‘Have you actually read this, Chile?’
He shook his head.
‘You want to know what they did to the guy?’
‘No.’
‘They pulled his pants down, cut his throat and stabbed him in the heart. You know who he was?’
‘’Course I do.’
‘Maybe you missed the fact that there’s an election on. Some of the guys down at Tammany are saying La Guardia’s behind it. Tomorrow you’ll be on every front page. You figure it’s all going to die down and they’ll let you walk? Don’t you know how much shit we were in after we failed to bust the Rothstein case?’
‘I don’t know anything about that.’
‘They’ve set you up, Chile.’
Acuna blinked rapidly. The muscle in his cheek was still twitching.
‘They have set you up real good. This morning we had the mayor in here, standing alongside the commissioner. So what does the Bull do? To prove he’s still the biggest cog in the machine, he brings you in. Everyone knows you’re a gambler and it looks like you’ve been settling a debt. Duncan’s widow gives a positive ID. She says you came to her house to collect money from her husband, and when you discovered he wasn’t there, you went
looking for him.’
‘That’s bullshit. I never went to his house.’
‘That’s not what she says. And she used to be a showgirl so she’ll lay it on real thick.’
‘She’s a lying bitch.’
‘You’ve been set up, Chile. And, believe me, with a case like this, the bosses upstairs will be only too willing to buy the sting. Maybe Brandon meant what he said. But you figure he’s going to be able to pull it off? You think you’ll slip out the Tombs in six months?’ Quinn shook his head. ‘Her ID’ll send you to the Chair, and you’re a fool if you don’t know it.’