Death by Chocolate

by Steven Henry

  The other two detectives stared at Erin. “I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again,” Vic said in tones of respectful admiration. “You’re one cold, hard bitch.”

  “Yeah,” Webb said. “Mothers have a soft spot for their kids. Especially ones that are still living at home. It’s a good idea, O’Reilly. You think Paulie’s a momma’s boy?”

  “Probably,” Vic said.

  “So what do you think Mom’s willing to do to keep her little boy out of prison?” Erin said, hating herself a little.

  “Maybe tell the truth,” Webb said. “I’ll talk to the DA, see if we can get him to play ball.”

  * * *

  As Erin climbed the stairs up to Major Crimes, her phone buzzed. She fished it out on the landing, letting the other detectives go on ahead.

  “O’Reilly.”

  “Hello, darling.”

  “Hey,” she said, glad she recognized Carlyle’s accent. He didn’t like to identify himself by name on the phone. “Miss me already?”

  “Aye,” he said. “But this is more of a business call.”

  She dropped her flirtatious tone. “What’s up?”

  “I know you were wanting a pleasant evening with me, but I’ve a fellow who’s wanting a quiet word with you, when it’s convenient. Perhaps at the end of the day?”

  “This fellow have a name?”

  “You saw him at a meeting on the subject of applied probability.”

  “Try that in English?”

  “He’s a card player, but not a particularly accomplished one. You’d recall a lad with a bit of a sniffle?”

  “Oh, yeah. Him.” She thought of Liam McIntyre, with his twitchy face and runny nose.

  “Is there a problem, darling?”

  “You’ll understand if I’m a little less excited about seeing him than you.”

  Carlyle chuckled. “Aye, that’s a fair point. What would you like me to tell him?”

  She sighed. “Sure. I’ll meet with him. But there better be a payoff.”

  “Darling, I’m shocked. I didn’t think you wanted that sort of relationship.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant!”

  “I know what you meant.” He sounded amused. “I’ll make it up to you. Feel free to collect, at any time of your choosing.”

  “It’s not like you to make an open-ended commitment like that.”

  “What can I say? You bring it out in me.”

  “Where does your guy want to meet?”

  “Here at the Corner. Nine o’ clock would be grand. Come around back.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there.”

  “I’ll have a drink poured and waiting.”

  * * *

  “Good news,” Webb said when Erin joined them in the office. “The DA would love to trade a low-level drug conviction for a murder collar. He’s in. Shortest conversation I’ve ever had with him.”

  “Okay,” Vic said. “Let’s go get the bitch.”

  “Let’s do this with a little tact, Neshenko,” Webb said. “She’s a grieving widow, remember.”

  “Who we think killed her husband,” he shot back. “Don’t they say crocodiles fake crying to put you off your guard?”

  “I think that’s an urban legend,” Erin said.

  “Urban crocodiles?” Vic said.

  “Hey, it’s New York,” she said. “You’ve been down in the sewers. You know what it’s like.”

  “Which is why I’m working Major Crimes and not Animal Control,” he said. “So how about it, boss? We gonna get this girl, or what?”

  “Okay,” Webb said. “But just so we’re clear, you are not playing good cop.”

  “That’s okay,” Vic said. “The bad cop gets to have all the fun.”

  * * *

  They rolled up on the Bianchi apartment with just the three of them, plus Rolf. As Webb pointed out, one middle-aged woman shouldn’t present too much of a threat to a full squad of NYPD detectives.

  “I’m spending more time at this apartment than I am at home,” Erin commented as the elevator whirred toward the top floor.

  “Plenty of time to sit at home after we retire,” Vic said. “Except the Lieutenant, here. He’ll keel over from a coronary two weeks before he collects his pension. It’ll be tragic, except for the irony of it.”

  “Half my heart trouble is because of you, Neshenko,” Webb said. “If I kick off, I expect O’Reilly to put you away for manslaughter.”

  “Where’s the other half come from?” Vic asked.

  “It’s a three-way split,” Webb said. “Cigarettes, my second ex-wife, and O’Reilly.”

  “Why the second wife?” Erin asked.

  Webb shook his head and sighed. “I did something stupid and married a lawyer the second time around. The first wife got the kids, the second one got the house.”

  “Ouch,” Vic said. “So why don’t you like lawyer jokes?”

  “Lawyers hurt too much to be funny.”

  The elevator doors slid open. “We gonna take her downtown, or do it here?” Erin asked.

  “We’ll start here and see how it goes,” Webb said. “I want her thinking about her kid, not about herself. We haul her into an interrogation room, she’ll be thinking about her own chances.”

  “We’ve got no proof,” she said quietly.

  “She doesn’t know that,” he said and rang the doorbell.

  A young Italian man answered the door. He was wearing a black suit and had slicked-back hair. From the look on his face, they weren’t the people he was expecting.

  “Who’re you?” he asked sharply.

  Webb held up his shield. “Lieutenant Webb, NYPD. We’d like to speak with Mrs. Bianchi.”

  “You got a warrant?”

  “We’re not searching the apartment, and she’s not under arrest,” Webb said. “A warrant isn’t necessary.”

  “Take a hike,” he said. “She ain’t talkin’ to you.”

  “And who, exactly, are you?” Webb asked.

  “The guy who’s tellin’ you to get lost.”

  Vic cracked his knuckles and gave the other guy a long look. “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “I ain’t tellin’ you shit. And I don’t have to.”

  “You know the rule book,” Vic said. “You’re right, you don’t have to show us your ID. Of course, we can haul your ass down to the station and keep you there until we can ID you. But you probably know that already, since you’re such a smart guy.”

  “Hey, Carlo!” Nina’s strident voice called from the living room. “What’s goin’ on out there?”

  “Carlo,” Vic repeated. “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

  Carlo scowled at them but didn’t budge from the doorway. “She ain’t takin’ visitors.” Then he called over his shoulder, “It’s the police.”

  “That so?” she called back. A moment later, Nina Bianchi came into view like a black-clad, overweight force of nature. “Oh no you don’t. You bastards. What, it wasn’t enough to drive Lorenzo into a heart attack and arrest Paulie? Now you gotta come here again? You got a whole lotta nerve. I can’t believe you got the guts to stand there on my doorstep and look me in the eye! You and your goddamn posse, with that bitch, her lousy fleabag, and that meathead. Get out of my house!”

  “Ma’am,” Webb said, without changing expression, “we’re not inside your home. But if I could talk to you for a few minutes—”

  “This is harassment,” she went on. “I’m callin’ my lawyer.”

  “I think that’s a good idea, ma’am,” Webb said. “He can advise you on your best option for avoiding prison time for your son.”

  “By the time he gets done with you,” Nina said, “you’ll be writing parking tickets in Albany. Whaddaya mean avoidin’ prison?”

  “You want to keep Paulie out of jail, don’t you?” Webb asked quietly.

  “Yeah? How you gonna help me do that?” Nina was obviously suspicious.

  “Mrs. Bianchi,” Carlo said. “I really think we oughta wait for Vinnie
.”

  “Paulie has been charged with possession of heroin,” Webb said. “We’ve got a deal for him, but it’s good for a limited time. If we could just have a few minutes, it could save your son fourteen years of his life.”

  Nina’s face blanched. “Fourteen years?” she echoed. Apparently no one had told her that piece of information.

  Erin knew they’d won that round. The other woman sagged as some of the fight leaked out of her.

  “Okay, come in,” Nina said.

  “I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Carlo said.

  “Carlo, you ain’t paid to think!” Nina retorted. “You’re paid to do what you’re told. You wanna talk to Vinnie? Go talk to Vinnie. This is my family we’re talkin’ about here. I’m gonna take care of my family. Get outta here, go run to the guy who does your thinkin’ for you.”

  Carlo looked like he was going to protest, but he snapped his mouth shut. He shouldered past Webb and went toward the stairwell, pulling out a cell phone as he went.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Webb said. “This shouldn’t take long.”

  Erin hoped he was right. If that call was going where she thought, they were on a clock. The Oil Man or his henchmen would be showing up soon.

  “And don’t you try bein’ all polite,” Nina snapped. “I trust you more when you act like an asshole.”

  “Wow,” Vic whispered in Erin’s ear as they went inside. “It’s like she knows him.”

  When they were assembled in the living room, Nina turned to face them, arms crossed. “Okay,” she said. “I’m listenin.’”

  “Mrs. Bianchi,” Webb said. “I understand you’re worried about your son, and I know this is a difficult time for you. We’d like to help Paulie, and we want you to help him.”

  “You wanna help my kid? After you get that mutt to chew on him and you haul his ass to jail? Bullshit.”

  “The important thing, ma’am, is that you want to help him,” Erin said. “Paulie isn’t the one we want.”

  “You don’t want him? Then let him go.”

  “Mrs. Bianchi,” Webb said. “We’re not a Narcotics unit. We’re Major Crimes. Our concern is to solve a murder.”

  “What murder? I dunno what you’re talkin’ about.”

  “It’s two murders now, actually,” Webb said. “The first one is a dentist, Norman Ridgeway.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “He was poisoned,” Erin said, watching Nina closely.

  “That’s tough for him,” she said. “What’s that got to do with me?”

  “I thought we were talking about Paulie,” Erin said quietly. “Not you.”

  She saw it then. Nina flinched just a little. Gotcha, Erin thought.

  “I don’t know nothin’ about no dentist,” Nina said, and the moment was gone.

  Webb leaned forward. “What about Lorenzo Bianchi?”

  “What about him?” Nina shot back.

  “I suppose you don’t know he was poisoned, too?”

  “He died of a heart attack!”

  “Caused by an overdose of his heart medication,” Erin said.

  “Lorenzo, God rest his soul, wasn’t the most careful guy in the world,” Nina snapped. “Maybe he took a couple extra pills.”

  “You had a family dinner the night he died,” Erin said. “An unusual occasion, according to Paulie. You served spicy pasta sauce, which nicely covered the bitter taste of the pills.”

  “You’re crazy!” Nina retorted. “You think I poisoned my whole family?”

  “No, I don’t,” Erin said. “But I think you all got a dose of propranolol. And there’s probably traces of it still in your system. How do you think that looks?”

  “I don’t care how it looks, ‘cause you can’t take my blood. You got no warrant.”

  “We don’t need to take your blood,” Erin said with a grim smile. “Because we’ve got Paulie.”

  “We have him on drug possession,” Vic added, seeing where Erin was going with this. “We’ve got a warrant for him. If we find that drug in his system, and he was eating the same stuff his dad was…”

  “You poisoned Lorenzo,” Erin said. “Just tell us why. We’ve got a deal with the DA. Write out the statement, your kid walks on the drug charges.”

  “Free and clear,” Webb added. “Not even probation. All charges will be dropped.”

  “You think I killed my husband?” Nina said.

  “We know you did,” Erin said. “What we don’t know is why.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Nina said. “You ain’t got nothin’ on us that’ll hold up in court. We got a good lawyer, he’ll take you apart on the stand. I think we’ll take our chances.”

  “We’ve got a witness who’ll swear he got the poisoned candy from Paulie,” Webb said softly. “That makes Paulie an accessory to murder, along with the drug charges. He’s not looking at fourteen years. He’s looking at the rest of his life behind bars.”

  Erin was waiting for Nina to crumble, for her defiance to collapse under the weight of all those years. But she’d misjudged the other woman. Nina didn’t crumble; she exploded.

  “You got any idea what it’s like, livin’ with a guy like Lorenzo? Yeah, you think it’s great. He’s got money, he’s got respect, he’s a big man, a man with a belly, you know? When we first hooked up, he’s somebody, know what I mean? Guys take off their hats to him. Big guys, important guys, not just little nobodies. He’s got the nice clothes, the fancy car. You think, this guy’s goin’ somewhere. And you climb in for the ride. The ride, it’s okay, and hey, your looks ain’t gonna last forever. I mean, sure, you’re hot now, but just look at your mom, you’ll see what you’re gonna be one of these days.

  “So you marry the chump, and next thing you know? You see he’s just another asshole in a nice suit. You fight with him all the time, he slaps you around a little, you break some dishes, and then what? He retires!”

  Nina rolled her eyes to give the ceiling a look of long suffering. “That’s worse. I mean, before that, he’s goin’ places, he’s out all night, sure he’s ballin’ the cocktail waitresses, but what guy ain’t? Now he’s home all the time, and you find out you can’t stand each other. You fight until you get tired, then you just sit around and pretend you don’t hate his guts and he don’t hate yours. He’s got no ambition, he’s not goin’ nowhere but down the drain. And you look in the mirror and see, this is your life! This lousy, no-good, has-been wiseguy is your husband. A bald, fat loser with a heart condition.

  “But hey, it could be worse, right?” she went on, looking back at the detectives. “You got money, food on the table, a roof over your head. You can’t get divorced, I mean, I’m a good Catholic, right? You get divorced, you go straight to hell!”

  Vic gave Erin a quick look that asked what the rules were about divorce versus murder when it came to the afterlife. She smothered a smile.

  “The worst thing is, the bastard’s tryin’ to kill me!” Nina finished.

  All three detectives started. “Wait a second,” Webb said. “Lorenzo was trying to kill you?”

  “Of course he was!” Nina snapped. “What, you didn’t see that look on his face when you were askin’ him about the candy box? The candy he gave me for Valentine’s Day? The hell kind of man tries to poison his wife on Valentine’s Day? You see how quick he shut you down once you started askin’ about that?”

  “Lorenzo gave you the candy,” Erin said.

  “I just said that,” Nina said. “When they give you a badge, do they forget to check your ears? Or your brains?”

  “Why didn’t you eat it?” Erin asked.

  “I was gonna, but I had an appointment. I was gettin’ a foot massage. So I set the box on the counter, and it was gone when I got back.”

  “What did you think had happened to it?” Webb asked.

  “He wouldn’t have eaten them himself. The man loved his wine and sausages, but he didn’t care for chocolate. I thought maybe he gave them to his girlfriend.”
<
br />   “He had a girlfriend?” Webb asked.

  Nina gave him a look that suggested he was the dumbest man she’d talked to in a very long time. She let the silence stretch out just long enough to make sure he got the message before going on.

  “I didn’t know Paulie took the box until you lousy coppers showed up here askin’ all your damn questions. That’s when I saw it in his face, and I knew what he was tryin’ to do.”

  Erin silently cursed herself for missing Lorenzo’s reaction. “How did you know Paulie wouldn’t overdose on the heart meds like Lorenzo did?” she asked.

  “You shittin’ me? That boy don’t respect his heritage.” Nina tossed her head. “He don’t go for home cooking. I knew he wouldn’t take more than one helping. But Lorenzo never left food on his plate in his life.”

  “Just so we’re perfectly clear,” Webb said. “Paulie didn’t know anything about any of this?”

  “Not a thing,” Nina said. “My boy’s innocent.”

  “Except for the drug thing,” Vic interjected.

  Nina turned her tongue on Vic. “Shut up! You don’t know nothin’ about that! Your boss said they’re droppin’ the charges, so you don’t say one word about my boy! Or I swear to Mary mother of God, I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass it’ll tickle your throat when I wiggle my toes!”

  Vic raised his eyebrows. Nina braced her arms on her chair and looked like she was getting ready to carry out the threat.

  “Everyone take it easy,” Webb said, holding up his hands. “We’ve got what we need here. Mrs. Bianchi, we’re going to need you to come down to the station and fill out a statement confirming what you’ve just told us. The district attorney will be there, and he can verify the deal.”

  “Can I see my boy?”

  “Once we’ve got the statement, he’ll be released,” he assured her. “You can have a few minutes with him then. I promise.”

  Vic stood up and took out his handcuffs. “Ma’am, I’m going to need you to turn around,” he said.

  “You need those, big guy?” she asked contemptuously. “What, you think you couldn’t take me without ‘em?”