Enemy Within
Page 42
Karp told her to hold the call. Then he dialed his home.
“How did it go?” his wife asked.
“Terrific. Can I have a job on the dog farm?”
“Send me a résumé. Really, though. Did you smite the evildoers, as always?”
“I smited, but I think my smiter is wearing out.” He gave her a rundown on the events just passed, including the interview with Cooley.
“Do you think he’ll go for it?” she asked.
“I have no idea. I like to think of him a few years out, back with his family and flying around in little airplanes or talking in jetliners. I shouldn’t be thinking that, the guy killed a man and all, but there it is, I’m being honest. For a change.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. You have innumerable faults, as I know to my cost, but dishonesty is not one of them. I say that as an accomplished liar.”
“Then how do I know you’re telling the truth?”
A raspberry sound over the phone. He asked, “How’s Lucy holding up?”
“Oh, shattered, shattered. She cares so much and sees the good in people. It knocks her down when it turns out they’re all too human. What she needs is a nice kid with piercings and blue hair and a heavy coke habit. Then we could be real parents.”
“Well, she’s got a do-good foundation named after her. That should take some of the sting out.”
“Oh, the Lucia Foundation isn’t named after Lucy, or not directly. It’s named after the person she was named after. You know, Nonna Lucia, my mother’s grandmother.”
“I don’t know.”
“You do! I’ve told you that story a million times.”
“Nope.”
“Yes, but you never listen to a word I say. Lucia di Messina, a sprig of the old aristocracy, which is where I get my classy bearing, if you noticed. She ran off with the gardener’s boy, around 1890 this is, ran off to Naples. Her father sent heavies after her, and she scooted all over Italy with the guy, hiding. They caught up with them in a hill town in the Abruzzi. By that time, my grandfather Paolo was around, a little kid, I guess.”
“Oh, right, now it’s coming back. They killed the gardener.”
“Uh-huh, the handsome Lorenzo, and as the family legend has it, she stood in the doorway of her house, in her blood-spattered shift, over the dead body of her husband, and blew them both away with a shotgun. Split to America with the cops on her heels, and the rest is history. Pazza Lucia to the family, a real character. I’m sorry I never knew her.”
“Look in the mirror,” said Karp.
“Oh, yeah, it’s been noted.” Marlene laughed. “But really, blood will tell, don’t you think? I’ve tried to be respectable, you can’t say I haven’t, but au fond, when all is said and done, I’m just a thug. I can’t imagine where Lucy comes from. Were there any really good people on your side?”
“I doubt it. Maybe a tzaddik slipped in on my mom’s side way back in Bessarabia. As a matter of fact, she was the only person in my family no one had a bad word to say about.”
“Anyway, Lucy was moping so much that I dragged her out of the house and took her grocery shopping.”
“What about the little elves who kept the refrigerator stocked with overpriced food?”
“Things of the past, my dear. While I yield to no one in my ability to lounge about all day in a silk peignoir, there is something about walking down Grand Street with a net bag breaking my shoulder that’s really kind of terrific. The rich have no idea.”
“Did she perk?”
“Yeah, she did. And then we had lunch out, at Heavenly Sanitary Noodle Company, and Lucy spotted one of Tran’s henchmen and got to talking to him, and he said Tran was practically suicidal with shame, and so we went to see him in this tacky place he stays at on Bayard.”
“And did the magic work?”
“Of course. She said something to the effect that we loved him because he was human, because he had failings, and it wasn’t his fault, and we knew he wasn’t perfect all the time. I thought he was going to burst out crying, the poor old bastard. And I said more or less the same. I do love him so, and how weird is that? My fatal weakness for heroic, brilliant, perfectionist, self-flagellating men.”
“Ahem,” said Karp. “Although I don’t feel particularly heroic.”
“No, really, anyone would have picked up a sparking bomb and put it out with their tongue! Jesus, Butch, give yourself some credit once.”
“Well, I am a lawyer. My tongue is highly trained. Speaking of lawyers, I have Solotoff on hold.”
“Waiting for his new asshole to be reamed, I assume.”
“Yeah. You know, I still can’t figure it out. Cooley is like an open book to me. I actually like the guy. I sympathize with him even while I’m holding him responsible for what he did. But Shelly . . . ? This whole ridiculous business, the thing with Roland, the perjury. It makes no sense.”
“To you, no, because you’re not like that. I think he wanted to somehow involve you in corruption, to show that, yeah, he left the DA not because he got kicked out, but because it’s all a big scam anyway. If he’d pulled it off, he would have waved it in our face, ha ha, the outfit you worked for is shit, and you’re a jerk for believing in it.”
“I don’t know. There are some sewers I won’t go into, I guess. Maybe a career as a kennel person would brighten my outlook. Do you think there’s really a place for me?”
“I intend to be very selective in my staff. Tell me, do you have any experience shoveling piles of dog shit?” said Marlene.
“I worked for the New York criminal justice system for twenty years.”
“You’re hired.”