by Daydreams
“He is here doing his goddamn duty as a citizen!” the attorney said,
“-at the cost of very considerable embarrassment, and damage to his marital relationship!”
“Calm down, Counselor,” Ellie said, “-there’s no problem here. If Mrs.
Crowell’s going to swear her husband never came into the city-and, of course, we don’t find evidence he hired some people to murder this woman-well, then there’s no problem. If she commits perjury, she’s going to prison. That’s all this officer is saying. -You saying she won’t go to prison for lying about a murder in court?” Ellie sat on the edge of Leahy’s desk where Nardone had been, and said to Mrs. Crowell,
“I’m sure your attorney never said you wouldn’t go to prison for perjury if you lied under oath in this case? He didn’t tell you that, did he?”
Ellie leaned down and patted the green-eyed woman on the knee. She had round, fat knees. The dress material was heavy and smooth as old linen.
“-You see, you’d have to have knowledge of his whereabouts every hour you were out there. He never went shopping alone? Never went to the beach?
Never went to play tennis? Never left the house in the middle of the night-while you were asleep? -If you can swear all that under oath, then maybe you have no problem.” She patted the woman’s knee again.
“Mrs. Crowell has no problem in any case,” the attorney said.
“Is that what he’s been telling you?” Ellie said to the woman. “-That you’d have no problem, no matter what?”
The woman didn’t answer her. She didn’t look frightened; she looked tired.
“That is not what I told her,” the attorney said, “-and you better be pretty careful, or you’re going to find yourself defending a suit for damages to my professional-“
“That’ll be the day,” Ellie said. “That’ll be a first-a damages case over questions, and not a single statement to effect by me or this other officer.” She smiled at the woman. “-Are you satisfied you have the best representation you can afford … ?”
The green-eyed woman suddenly laughed-a trilling, high-pitched young girl’s laugh. -It made her face prettier, so Ellie could see why Crowell had loved her, married her so many years before. “I hate to say it,” the woman said, “but this jackass wasn’t really out of my sight much last weekend, and we had house guests-some people from Detroit, clients of Barry’s. The Shrellenbachs.
You can check with them-Michael and Dorothy Shrellenbach. -They’d love this!” She shook her head, revealing, under heavy black hair, gold seashells curled at the lobes of her ears. “I hate to say it, but he really didn’t have time to come into town and kill that poor creature.”
“Or have it done?” Ellie said. “-If she were threatening to tell you, for example . . . had a little blackmail going?”
“Not a chance, dear,” the woman said. “-Barry doesn’t know anybody who’d dream of arranging such a thing.
None of his friends are that interesting.” She reached over, took Crowell’s hand, and held it. “-He’s just a cowardly sneak.”
“Nothin’?” Leahy said, when the three were gone, Serrano gone before to block Reedy and the News man.
“Nothin’,” Nardone said. “-That guy never did anything.”
And will his prints show up on the report, after all?”
Ellie said.
“No way,” Leahy and Nardone said, almost together.
“Check with the phone company, anyhow,” Leahy said. “-See if the guy was callin’ people his wife didn’t know he knew. He could have made a couple calls from Long Island. Maybe did some investments for some wise guy owed him a favor. . . .”
“We’ll call the Detroit people, too-see what they have to say,” Ellie said.
“By the way, I don’t see any board out there on this Gaither thing,”
Leahy said.
“We’re using the machine,” Ellie said. “-We put everything we get on the computer.”
“Let me tell you something’-a pin board is going’ to give you a better look at what you got.”
“Maybe . Ellie said. “I guess we could put one up.”
“Do it. . O.K., enough of that shit,” Leahy said, and picked up a paper from his desk. “I got a letter here-guy’s too paralyzed to use the friggin’ phone-from that trooper commander upstate - ” Leahy’s lower lip, damp and raspberry red, protruded as he looked the letter over.
“-Says you have submitted an incomplete record of questions and replies from witness Bostwick, Charles W.”
“That moron,” Ellie said. “-Bostwick is an alcoholic!
He’s a mess. -He’s incontinent, for God’s sake! He ID’d one of those troopers as a Puerto Rican kid with a gravity knife! “
“Why don’t we send that witness up to Albany, send him to the commander up there-let him interview him?”
Nardone said.
Leahy smiled. “Oh-that’s a good one. Send the jerk up on a bus-I’ll give ‘em a call he’s comin’ up, they can meet him. Let him shit all over one of those fancy cars they like to drive a hundred up there in the woods.” He put the letter on his desk. “-Let me think about it-see can we afford the ticket for the jerk.”
“Bill the State guys—it’s their interview,” Nardone said.
“Another good idea!” Leahy said. “How come you weren’t so smart up in the Bronx today? -Don’t think that one has slipped my mind, just because I didn’t make a big deal out of it. It hasn’t slipped my mind.
-Which brings up something’ else. . . .” He riffled through the ers on his desk, plump hands shuttling as an experipap enced gambler shuffled cards-found what he wanted, and passed it over to Ellie. “-This guy wasn’t on that other’ sheet; this is new shit.”
“Is this you wanting this, Lieutenant?”
“No, Klein,” Leahy said, “it’s Anderson. Upstairs wants this stuff checked out. You want to argue with me? -Go argue with them.”
“Tommy, you’re not going to believe this one-it’s an Internal guy suspected of Observing.”
“Give me a break.”
“No-Observing. The cop has a telescope set up on his apartment-house roof on Grand Concourse-two corn plaints from people in the building directly across the Concourse, that he’s peeping. Man-one of the complaints–came across the street, went up to the roof of this cop’s apartment building, says he caught him with the scope pointed across the street aimed at his bedroom.”
“Leahy-is this a joke, or what?”
“I’ll tell you what it is, Tommy-it’s exactly what you fuckin’ deserve.
It’s penance, is what it is. -Now, why don’t you two prima donnas forget about your big homicide case for the rest of this shift, get your asses back up to the Bronx-and this time, do what you’re supposed to do.”
“Listen to this,” Ellie said, reading. ” ‘Complainant confronted Officer Gershon, stated his accusation-and was thereupon threatened with arrest by Officer Gershon on a charge of Public Display, Lewd Conduct, and Sodomy-the officer stating he had been gathering evidence of several acts of public sodomy committed by complainant on the bedroom balcony of his apartment.”
“Well,” Nardone said, “I got to admit that’s not too bad. -That’s a pretty good one. We got to waste time, that’s a good one to do it.”
” ‘An assault and battery occurred.”
“I’ll bet,” Nardone said. “Two assaults-two batteries.”
“So,” Leahy said, “get out of my office and go to work.”
“Car responded-‘ “Go investigate it,” Leahy said, “-I got work to do.”
Nardone turned at the door. “What’s new on Morris?”
“There’s nothin’ new on Classman,” Leahy said, –except his funeral is up in Woodlawn tomorrow, five o’clock. They’re puttin’ his mother and him in together.”
The fat man began to stack reports from the left side of his desk to the right. “They picked up some prints-an old lady, a friend of his mother’s-an’ a black lady n
ursed her, some others there’s no records of at all.”
“No record of at all?” Ellie said.
“I notice,” Nardone said, “they got to the Bureau for a fast report on those prints-right?”
“Come on,” Leahy said, “we’re talkin’ about a cop killin’ here. For that, even those assholes work a little faster. -An’ it doesn’t make any difference, anyway. It was just rotten luck, that’s all. They’ll get those guys.
Assholes like that-killed a cop-they’ll get drunk, they’ll get stoned and shoot their mouths off, one of their ladies’ll give us a call and turn ‘em for a hundred bucks. -Don’t worry about that case-worry about the astronomer on Grand Concourse.”
“I don’t think he’s going to make trouble about this morning,” Ellie said. Nardone steering the bronze Ford back uptown, going up Third.
This was the beginning of real rush-hour traffic, impatient, furious, hustling away uptown under a reddening sun.
“He isn’t going’ to do shit,” Nardone said. “A good commander would have had us on charges right there. -They made us, so they drove away. .
. . You think a real commander would have stood still for that?”
“Jesus, Tommy-then I’m glad Leahy’s not so good.”
“He’s not a bad guy-just too easy. The guy does not have what it takes-“
“Tommy-do you want to get your ass in a sling because of what happened up there? -if you feel that goddamn bad about it, will you remember it’s my ass in a sling, too? You did not do anything so awful. -Is he the first crook you ever knew on the Force?”
“That’s not the point, El-“
“Yes it is—it is the point!”
“O. K. Year I went on the cops, there was a lot of guys taken’. But, now-he just surprised me, you know? The Pauly I knew, he wouldn’t have done that . . , begged me like that.”
“So? -It wasn’t the worse thing you ever saw, was it?
It was just an upsetting thing. . . .” She watched a group of black boys walking behind an old lady down the block between 103rd and 104th streets. The old woman, her ankles swollen over the edges of her shoes, was carrying a small net bag of groceries, a shiny black patent-leather purse. The boys caught up to her … then passed her, ambfin on their way. “-All you’re telling me, Tommy, is that when you knew Donaher, you didn’t know the guy as well as you thought. Let me tell you, that’s no reason to go looking to get up on charges for something like that.
-That’s just crazy. Maybe he was a nice guy-and a taker. Friends don’t have to be perfect, Tommy.”
Ellie looked over, saw Nardone watching his side of the avenue, thinking about it.
“You going all the way up on the East Side?”
“Yeah.
While they rode up the Concourse, Ellie checked the building numbers on her side for the address.
“Got another two, three blocks,” she said. “I wish we could have caught this guy outside-before he got up to his place. This way, there’s his wife … and he’s got kids.”
“How many kids?”
“Two kids. Boys. -It’s late; they’ll be home from school.”
“We’ll ask him to step out, that’s all. Business.”
“Well, I hope to hell he steps,” Ellie said. “It’s been a long day.”
“Yeah-and I was a pain in the ass, right?”
“No, you weren’t, Tommy.”
“I could have got you in bad trouble,” Nardone said.
“There we go,” Ellie said. “It’s that one-that building.”
“No place. -I’m going’ to park up the block. We can walk back.”
“Let’s see if we can get him to come outside the apartment. -Either that, or we could have a mess.”
Mrs. Gershon answered the bell. She was a tall woman with a heart-shaped face, long, graying red hair twisted into a French knot at the back of her neck. She wore glasses and an old-fashioned blue A-line dress. -The sheet had said she taught junior high. Mrs. Gershon looked at Ellie, then Nardone, then called, “Harry! -Two officers here to see you!” She smiled at Ellie. “Come in.”
Inside the apartment, a boy called, “Pop!”
“No, thanks,” Ellie said. “We don’t have time. -We just need a quick word with Harry.”
“You’re sure? -You wouldn’t like some coffee? I baked some crumb cake-and despite what the boys say, it isn’t bad.”
“Sounds great,” Nardone said, “and I’d say the kids are wrong-but we just don’t have the time, Mrs. Gershon.”
“What is it, U?” Harry Gershon, in white sports shirt and tan slacks, looked younger than his wife, and was slightly shorter. He was a handsome man, thin, strongnosed, deeply tanned-his face lined, weather-marked just enough for character. He had light gray eyes, and examined Ellie and Nardone, and identified them, with the same unconcern his wife had shown.
“You guys from this district?” he said, and motioned them in with his head. “—Come on in.”
“They don’t want to try the crumb cake, Harry.”
“Then they can’t be smart cops,” Gershon said, “whoever they are.” He beckoned. “-Come in!”
“No, Harry, we haven’t got time-we got to get going’,” Nardone said.
“This is Officer Klein-my name’s Nardone.”
“O.K.,” Gershon said, “Be back in a minute, honey.”
He came out into the hall. “Come on-I’ll show you my observatory. . .
.”
“Harry … don’t be gone an hour, O.K.?” His wife smiled at Ellie and Nardone. “If you’re in a hurry, don’t let him start with the stars. We got that telescope for the kids-and who uses it?”
“Right … right. Be back in a few minutes, honey.”
He led the way down the corridor. “Come on-we’ll use the fire stairs.
That elevator this time of day-we’ll be waiting forever.”
He led them through the fire door at the end of the hall, and on up the stairs. “Just a couple of flights.”
“We’re from downtown, Harry,” Nardone said, as they climbed.
“I know where you’re from,” Gershon said, “-and it’s no big deal.” He led up the second flight. “-You’re up here on the peeping thing-right?”
“that’s right,” Ellie said, relieved that Gershon didn’t sound like the begging type. “A complaint’s been filedand a preliminary.”
“That fuck,” Gershon said, then went up the last flight of stairs fast, two at a time, shoved open the heavy door at the top, and was out onto the roof. Ellie climbed fast behind him (she didn’t like the idea of Gershon being up there alone)-and Nardone took three-riser strides up past her, and through the door.
Gershon, no longer in a hurry, was waiting for them, standing on a very wide, flat prairie of roofing tar, its pebbled surface-petroleum black at first sight-faintly iridescent on change of view. He threw a long, long shadow from the setting sun. “What did you think-I was going to do a Brody?” He turned and walked across the roof, heading for the up welling roar of Concourse traffic.
“Here you go,” he said. A considerable telescope-a large white-barreled instrument with a complicated eyepiece-was perched on a heavy tripod just back from the six-course brick wall bordering the roof edge. The barrel of the scope was padlocked to the tripod. The tripod was chained to a vent pipe sticking up out of the roof five feet away.
“If I didn’t lock the son-of-a-bitch up,” Gershon said, “-there are some assholes in this building would rip it off for money to recarpet. As it is, I can’t have it out here in any kind of bad weather. -Too hot-too cold.
Rain.” He stroked the instrument’s white barrel, touched a bright steel knob at the top of the tripod. “It’s a delicate thing. I shouldn’t have it out here all day today heat’s no good for it, affects the sealing stuff around the lenses. I keep the lens caps on, but that doesn’t have anything to do with the heat. I’m figuring on putting a shelter up here. -The landlord and me are going around and around on that little ques
tion.”
“Well, it’s nice,” Ellie said. “-It’s a beautiful instrument.”
“You’re looking at just about eight hundred dollars worth of glass.
-Lenses are what cost.”
“Not eight hundred for the whole thing, though?”
“Hell, no. Try one thousand, two.”
“Can you get a good look at a planet with this-I mean really see something’?” Nardone said.
“Damn if I know-I guess you could.”
“You don’t use it to look at stars?” Ellie said.
“You kidding me?” Gershon said. “I look at pussy. -If you’ll pardon my French.”
“Wait a minute,” Ellie said. “-You’re telling us you use this to peep over there at women across the street?”
“Across the street? Honey—this thing brings them in from a quarter mile! Here . . .” Gershon busied himself at the telescope, pulled the lens caps off, unlocked the padlock holding the instrument’s barrel to the tripod then swung the long tube around to cover an apartment building more than halfway down the block on the other side of the Concourse.
Nardone winked at Ellie as Gershon bent over his fine eyepiece-fiddled with adjustments here and there, then slowly rose on his toes to center his focus perfectly on some distant object. -Then he briskly stood up, twisted a screw knob to hold his field, and gestured 81he to the eyepiece. “I got these ladies timed out pretty good,” he said. “This one comes home from work-she always does her exercises except on weekends. I don’t know where she goes, weekends.”
Ellie, in a wavering circular world of bright, uncertain light, followed a round of lucent white within the field, pressing her eye to the eyepiece cup-but saw no woman just home from work. “I don’t see anything,” she said.
“You wear glasses?”
“No-I don’t.”
Gershon came up and gently pushed her away from his machine, bent to the eyepiece, and grunted. Then made a slight adjustment. “Everybody’s eye is a little bit different,” he said. “O.K.”—straightened up and stood away.
Ellie bent to the view again-saw her white, bright disk, saw it slowly roll away, as if in introduction, and then (faintly trembling in her view) a pretty girl, naked, half facing her-slightly fat, tanned to coffee brown, gleaming with sweat and oil, her hair wrapped in a white towel-standing exercising in a deeply rhythmic way (apparently to music). Her nudity occasionally obscured by the narrow, horizontal white pipes of the side of her balcony rail, she was doing stretches-and, as she swept down spread-legged to reach between her knees, then straightened, arched, arms up, to lean far back, straining at that posture till her breasts nearly disappeared, flattened into the flexed muscle of her chest, Ellie saw the soaked black chevron at her crotch, “Isn’t she a beauty?” Gershon said. ‘-No light areas on her.