Nasty Cutter

by Tim O'Mara

  He looked hurt. Not injured. Hurt.

  ‘I’m pretty good at this, Ray.’

  ‘You’re the best, Edgar. Just not right now, OK?’

  He answered me by stuffing the rest of his pizza slice in his mouth and chewing. It was his way of ignoring me. After he swallowed it, he finished his beer in two gulps and sat back.

  ‘Maybe I should go,’ Allison said as she stood. ‘You guys can hang out.’ She looked at the wall. ‘Watch a game or movie or something, and we can hook up in the morning.’

  As much as I wanted to spend the night with her, Allison had hit on a pretty good idea. For his safety – both medical and security-wise – I knew Edgar could use a roommate at the moment. I stood, reached into my pocket, and pulled out my cell.

  ‘I’ll call a car,’ I said. ‘And you stay at my place tonight. That way Uncle Ray’s guy doesn’t have to make two stops.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ she said. She turned to Edgar. ‘You make sure you get plenty of rest. And don’t go playing PI on your computer tonight.’

  I touched her on the elbow. ‘I got him, Allison.’

  She looked me in the eyes and said, ‘That doesn’t necessarily reassure me, Ray.’

  I looked into hers and said, ‘Let’s get that car, huh?’

  ‘I hope I didn’t get you into any trouble with Allison, Ray.’

  ‘It’s OK, Edgar. Just a little leftover tension from a previous conversation.’ I saw the confusion in his face and added, ‘She’s pissed that I asked her not to tell anyone at her paper about Marty’s affair with Maria Robles.’

  He nodded. ‘Yeah, that wouldn’t be good. Gossip’s not gonna help the case.’

  ‘I hope that’s all it is – gossip.’ When I heard those words come out of my mouth, I knew I was second-guessing myself about keeping that information from the cops.

  Edgar was about to say something, but thought better about it. Another skill he’d been working on with some success. Instead, he said, ‘Whatta you wanna watch?’

  I smiled. ‘Something loud with lots of explosions and crappy dialogue. Something that doesn’t require me to think too much.’

  He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and pressed a series of buttons.

  ‘I know just the movie,’ he said.

  It turned out he did, but we were both asleep on his couch before the ending.

  FIFTEEN

  In the morning – the late morning – I ran out to the bagel place and came back with breakfast for Edgar and me. This included two very large coffees. We ate in the living room with the TV on mute playing the local sports channel. We ate and watched last night’s silent highlights of the Mets’ and Yankees’ pre-season games.

  ‘Hard to believe the season starts in a few weeks, huh?’ Edgar said.

  ‘First sign of spring,’ I agreed. You can keep your robins. Just tell me when pitchers and catchers report, and I can smell the vernal equinox in the air.

  ‘You going to the memorial today?’

  ‘To the house,’ I said. ‘There’s no memorial, and the burial’s private.’

  ‘Can I come?’

  ‘Why would you want to do that, Edgar? You didn’t know Marty Stover.’

  ‘Just thought it would be interesting,’ he said. ‘I’ve never been to a shiva.’

  What he really wanted was to be around what he considered ‘the case.’ Maybe he felt that last night’s attack earned him a place at the table. Maybe he was right. But that didn’t mean I was going to take him to a stranger’s shiva.

  ‘You need to rest,’ I said. Before he could protest, I said, ‘And maybe you can go over some of Marty’s files you downloaded. See if you can find anything someone might consider worth stealing.’

  He thought about that. ‘You sure you’re not just giving me busy work, Ray? Like I’m one of your students who needs to be kept out of trouble.’

  He was learning.

  ‘I know it’s kind of like looking for a needle in a virtual haystack, Edgar, but if anyone can do it, it’s you.’

  ‘And now you do that thing where you flatter me. If you don’t want me to go, Ray, just say so.’

  ‘I don’t want you to go. But I also want you to rest and take care of yourself, and there’s no better way for you to do that than to pore over files looking for evidence.’

  That made him smile. He took a bit of his cinnamon raisin bagel and a sip of coffee. ‘I guess I’ll work backwards. Chronologically, I mean. Most recent cases first, then the ones before that.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan. But don’t do too much.’ Another thought occurred to me. ‘And don’t answer the door for anyone. If you were followed last night, the guy’s still out there. If your vision starts to get blurry or you get a headache, give yourself a break.’

  He’d spend the whole day going through those files no matter what. The only thing that would stop him would be a dead battery coupled with a blackout. Even then I couldn’t be sure he didn’t have a back-up generator somewhere around the apartment. Before he could argue with me, my cell rang. I didn’t recognize the number.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Mr Donne,’ a young man’s voice said.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘This is CJ. Officer Gray. From the other day at The Tippler.’

  I almost laughed. ‘I remember you, CJ. How’re you?’

  ‘I’m good, sir. I’m supposed to pick you and Ms Rogers up at your place at one o’clock.’ He recited my address. ‘Do I have that right, sir?’

  ‘Lose the “sir,” CJ,’ I said. ‘It’s Ray. And yes, you’ve got that right. You sure you don’t mind picking us up? We can take the train. I feel kinda funny having you—’

  ‘Chief’s orders, sir. I mean Ray. And I’d feel even funnier not picking you up after the Chief’s orders, if you catch my drift.’

  ‘I gotcha, CJ. We’ll be ready at one. Just call when you’re downstairs.’

  ‘That’s a four, Ray.’ That’s a yes in cop-talk. He hung up without saying good-bye. I wondered if he learned that technique from my uncle.

  I put the phone in my pocket but not before checking the time. ‘If you’re sure you’re OK,’ I said, ‘I should probably get back to my place.’

  ‘I’m good. What time are you getting back tonight?’

  ‘Probably after dinner. Why?’

  ‘In case I find something, I wanna call you.’

  Whatever else I could say about Edgar, the guy was nothing if not optimistic.

  ‘How about I call you?’ I said. ‘As soon as I get back.’

  He nodded. ‘That’ll work.’

  I grabbed my jacket and looked at the remains of my breakfast on Edgar’s coffee table. I was leaving him with a small mess, but it would give him something physical to do before planting himself in front of his computer screen for the rest of the day.

  ‘Later,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t forget to call me.’

  This was the second day in a row I was in a car headed east to the suburbs of Nassau County. Again, the traffic was light, but this time the ride was much more comfortable, as we were in my uncle’s department-issued town car and someone else was doing the driving. I felt a little guilty enjoying the perks of Uncle Ray’s position, but as Allison snuggled up next to me, the guilt seemed very far away.

  ‘And you felt OK leaving him there by himself?’ she asked. ‘I mean not just his health, but what if he was followed?’

  I answered her in a low voice, reminding her that what Edgar was spending the day in the safety of his apartment doing was the result of an illegal download and that the car we were riding in was being driven by one of New York’s Finest.

  ‘He’ll be fine,’ I said. ‘He has enough food in the fridge for a few days and he’s got his computers.’ Before she could ask, I added, ‘And he’s got the number to the clinic, and there’s a few car services minutes away. He also knows how to dial nine-one-one.’ I patted her thigh. ‘He’s good.’

  ‘I hope so,’ she sa
id. ‘He seemed so … fragile last night.’

  ‘He’s always fragile. This time it’s physical. It’s like a kid getting into his first fight. Whatever doesn’t kill you …’

  ‘Jesus,’ she said. ‘Sometimes you sound so, I don’t know, male. Do all guys think like you do?’

  ‘Most of them, I guess.’ I motioned with my head to our driver. ‘I know most cops do. Every day is another opportunity to test yourself. You never know what’s coming, so you never know how that test will present itself. If it will present itself.’

  She shook her head. ‘Doesn’t sound like a healthy way to live.’

  ‘It’s not,’ I agreed. ‘But you learn how to live with it, or you don’t last too long.’

  ‘The same can be said about a lot of cops’ marriages.’

  ‘That’s true.’ I turned my head and raised my voice. ‘Hey, CJ?’

  ‘Sir?’

  Again with the sir. I’d correct him later. ‘You have a girlfriend?’

  He waited before answering. ‘Not at the moment.’

  ‘But you had one recently?’ Allison asked.

  Gray turned his head just enough to give a look that said How did you know that? Then he said, ‘We broke up just before I entered the academy, ma’am. Last year.’

  ‘It’s Allison,’ she said. ‘You mind me asking what happened?’

  Again, a pause before he answered. ‘She didn’t like the idea of me being a cop. We were in our senior year of college together. I was less than a year away from graduating with an accounting degree when the NYPD called me up. It’s not like I could ask the police academy to wait a year, you know?’

  ‘So,’ Allison said, ‘she thought she was getting an accountant and ended up getting a cop? I can see how that would be hard for her to wrap her mind around.’

  ‘Hard for both of us,’ he said. ‘If the cops had waited another year, I’m not sure what my choice would’ve been.’

  ‘What do you think about your choice now?’

  Damn, she was pushing it. I almost said something, but Gray beat me to it.

  ‘I like the camaraderie, I guess. The feeling of being part of something bigger than myself.’ He paused for a few seconds. ‘I obviously never saw myself in this position, though. You know, driving the Chief around. Being his’ – he didn’t want to say boy – ‘his assistant. But it’s a step in the right direction.’

  ‘And your ex?’

  ‘That’s enough,’ I said. ‘Leave the guy alone, Allison.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ Gray said. He changed lanes and said, ‘I miss her. We still keep in touch with emails and texts. I’m hoping she comes around to my way of thinking.’

  ‘And she’s hoping you’ll come around to hers,’ Allison said.

  ‘You’re probably right about that, ma’am. Allison.’ Gray signaled again and took the exit ramp. ‘Chief Donne said to drop you two off first. Then, I’m to pick up him and his wife. They’re not too far from here.’

  To Allison’s credit, she took the cue from Gray that the conversation was over.

  There were a lot of cars parked on Marty’s street when Officer Gray dropped us in front of the Stover house. As he pulled away, I noticed a couple of men standing in the driveway, smoking. They each had a cigarette in one hand and a longneck beer in the other. Both of them looked as if they couldn’t wait to get out of there and out of those suits. The shorter of the two made a swinging motion with his beer hand that made me think their current discussion revolved around golf.

  Across the street, there was another guy standing outside a car; he was also smoking, but without a beer. He looked to be about my age, maybe a little older. He was wearing a white shirt and dress pants, no tie or jacket, but appeared untouched by the late-March chill. He didn’t strike me as a driver waiting for his client, and the car he leaned against wasn’t nearly as classy as the one we’d just been in. After looking at him for a bit, my curiosity got the better of me. I knew it was going to bug me if I let it go, so I headed over to him.

  Allison grabbed me by the hand and said, ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Introducing myself. You can go on inside if you want.’

  ‘Not without you, I’m not.’

  As we approached the guy, he gave me a quizzical look. He dropped his smoke to the street, stepped on it, and put his hands in his pants pockets. I offered him mine.

  ‘Raymond Donne,’ I said. He kept his hands where they were. ‘Do we know each other? You look familiar.’ He didn’t, but it was always a good way to get someone to talk, or at least consider talking.

  He stayed quiet for a five-count and said, ‘You’re the lawyer’s kid, right?’

  ‘Robert Donne was my father, yes. This is my girlfriend, Allison.’

  They nodded at each other.

  ‘You knew my dad?’ I asked.

  ‘Kinda,’ he said. ‘I’m Chris Miller.’ When I didn’t respond, he added, ‘Melissa Miller’s brother?’

  Why did that name— Oh, shit. The girl Billy Taylor was convicted of assaulting. The general public didn’t know her name – back then the papers still did a good job of keeping the names of victims out of their stories – but my father had let it slip once at the dinner table, and after that he mentioned her a few times following the conviction. Again, it was primarily Marty’s case, but my dad was there throughout and helped out when Marty needed an extra hand. What was her brother doing outside the house of the lawyer who defended his sister’s attacker?

  ‘You’re wondering why I’m here, right?’ he asked.

  ‘I was wondering exactly that. Yes.’ I turned to Allison. ‘Chris’s sister was the girl Billy Taylor was convicted of assaulting.’

  He looked over at the house and took a few deep breaths. I could feel Allison do the same as she tightened her grip on my hand. Was there about to be trouble?

  ‘Mr Stover treated my sister with respect,’ Chris said. ‘I was there when they took her deposition. She was real nervous and she wanted me there. We were – we are – close, and she wanted someone from the family with her, even if it was her younger brother. She knew our mother and father couldn’t stand to hear the details, so I went. He never once asked a question that made it sound like what had happened was her fault.’

  ‘Marty was a good man,’ I said, feeling Allison’s hand relax.

  ‘He was. And then when he was able to get a confession out of …’ He swallowed hard. This was still pretty raw for him even all these years later. How could it not be? If someone had sexually assaulted my sister, the anger would never fade. ‘When he got Billy Taylor to admit to what he’d done, it meant my sister didn’t have to take the stand and testify to what had happened to her. He saved my family a lot of … I don’t know. Grief?’

  He took out another cigarette and lit it. I looked at his feet. According to the crushed ones on the street, this would be his fourth.

  ‘How long have you been standing out here?’ I asked.

  ‘Half an hour, I guess. Maybe more.’ He slipped his lighter back into his pocket. ‘I was about to go in when I saw the Taylor brothers show up. They got dropped off by a fancy town car, too. I wanted to pay my respects to Mrs Stover, but there’s no way I can be in the same room as those guys.’

  ‘I don’t blame you,’ Allison said. ‘How is your sister doing?’

  Chris shook his head and took a long drag from his cigarette. He let the smoke out about as slow as humanly possible.

  ‘She never went to college like she’d planned,’ he said. ‘After the confession and the case was over, we kind of felt that maybe things would get back to normal, you know? That we’d all get a new start.’ He stared down at the cigarette burning in his hand. ‘People talk about closure in these kinds of things, but there isn’t any. Not really. Not for the victim.’

  Allison stepped forward. ‘And not for the family of the victim, either.’

  Chris gave her a look and said, ‘You a therapist or something?’

  ‘Worse,’ I said
. ‘She’s a reporter.’

  That got a small grin from Chris. ‘Really? For who?’

  Allison told him. She also reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card. You got to hand it to the girl: she was always prepared. Chris looked at the card as if Allison had just offered him a sharp knife. Before I could stop her, she spoke again.

  ‘What’s your sister doing now?’ she asked.

  ‘Why?’ His tone was more wary, now that he knew what she did for a living. I didn’t blame him.

  Allison couldn’t help but put on her professional voice. ‘I’ve always been very interested in what happens to survivors of sexual assault. And their loved ones.’

  He squinted. ‘For a story or something?’

  ‘Possibly,’ she said.

  Chris considered that as he took another drag from his cigarette. The idea didn’t seem to be sitting too well with him. He had just told us how much it meant that the Millers hadn’t had to go through a trial. Why would he, or his sister, want to talk to a reporter two decades later? I was about to say something, when he beat me to it.

  ‘I don’t know, Ms Rogers, was it? Melissa’s done a lot of work putting her life back together. I know it was over twenty years ago, but it doesn’t seem like that to us. To her. She still has nightmares about that night.’

  Allison nodded. ‘That’s part of why I’d like her to consider telling her story. A lot of people think after twenty years these victims should be over it. I’ve got an old friend from college who was date raped, and it took her years to recover to the point where she was able to go back and get her degree.’

  She had never told me about that old friend from college.

  Chris nodded. ‘It’s like that with Melissa. She never went to college.’ He paused for a second. ‘Well, she never made it out of her first semester. It was too much for her. All those guys, all the parties she couldn’t bring herself to go to.’

  ‘What’s her life like now?’ I asked.

  ‘She took an online program in proofreading and copy editing,’ he said. ‘She works out of the house. Our house. We inherited it when our folks passed away. We live there together. We never got out of the house we grew up in.’ He gave that some thought. ‘She puts in about ten hours a day, six days a week. The work just keeps coming. It’s all on the computer, and she rarely meets her clients face to face.’