3. Maddie #2
The woman skids to a stop in front of us.
“You are Nick Devlin, aren’t you? Can I have your autograph?
I saw you play at Craic and Laughs and the Chubby Cat.
I’m a huge fan. I can’t believe you’re in my neighborhood.
I saw you on the subway, and I was playing it cool.
But then I called my friend, and she said I’d kick myself if I didn’t get your autograph. So I ran back.”
Nick releases me gently. He autographs a postcard with an illustration of his last album and takes a photo with her. I stand off to the side. Nick then excuses us, saying we’re off to meet friends. His fan then thanks him and waves as we walk off.
It’s a warm day for January—the temperature is in the fifties—so lots of children are running around the playground, their shrieks of joy and high voices filling the air.
An open circular space with a currently closed sprinkler in the middle takes up one side of the playground, with a long lane branching out that leads into a smaller shallow pool area.
Tasha was excited about now having a sprinkler nearby for the summer days.
On the other side is a huge space filled with sand and several rope structures for climbing.
Trees tower over the playground. Their branches are bare, but the shade will be great during the heat.
A sign across the gate announces a concert to celebrate its opening on January 25th.
Tasha waves hello as I unlock the green gate to the playground and let us in.
Tasha and her friend both have newborns, and Tasha told me they are currently on maternity leave.
Nick locks the gate behind us, and we cross over to meet them.
The blue surface is so bouncy that it cushions my sore ankle.
Tasha introduces her friend, Dulce, and her two children, and I introduce Nick.
Nick offers to play with their toddlers in the sandbox while we talk.
The three of us sit on the green metal benches that line the perimeter of the playground.
I’m happy to take the weight off my ankle.
Nick settles down on the sand with the two kids.
He’s totally into it. He’s helping them build roads and drive the truck as I turn to the women.
“He’s mighty fine,” says Dulce.
Tasha takes a photo and AirDrops it to me. “He seems worth keeping,” she says.
“We’re just friends,” I say.
“That’s too bad.” Tasha shakes her head.
Yes . I can’t help smiling as I watch Nick scooping up sand to create a road for the truck.
He clearly likes kids. He also babysits one of our neighbor’s kids most afternoons, and yet he doesn’t date.
This is a different side of him that I hadn’t recognized before.
He treats his band members as if they’re his family.
He’s so protective of Sayo, Kyla, and Amira, like a big brother.
But the mystery of Nick Devlin is not for me to unwrap.
I focus on Dulce, who has the same story as Tasha, with a repair that left her in worse straits than before.
“But listen to what Beatrice told Dulce,” Tasha says. “Beatrice is the property manager, so she’s responsible for everything—collecting rents, making repairs, etc.” She shows me a photo of Beatrice from the building’s website.
“I told Beatrice I was going to report her to the Infrastructure Department for taking bribes,” Dulce says. “And she laughed.”
“Cackled, more like,” Tasha says.
“She said, ‘Good luck. Do you think I came up with this on my own? I pay him his cut of each repair contract to keep my job. Report me, and he’s got enough connections for you to lose your apartment.’”
I hastily scribble that down. “Wow. So she implied it was someone high up in the Infrastructure Department? Did she say anything more about who it was?”
“She implied it was someone very senior who had all the power. She said, ‘He runs the district.’”
It must be Commissioner Johnson or one of the deputy commissioners. How am I going to figure that out?
“Did you ever report it to the Infrastructure Department?” I ask.
“No. She seemed confident,” Dulce says. “I don’t want to lose my apartment.”
“Beatrice seemed cozy with all the government officials who showed up for the ribbon cutting a few weeks ago,” Tasha says. “They should be here again at the concert on January 25th to celebrate this new playground.”
I note down the date to attend. “If it is someone senior at the Infrastructure Department, then it’s probably widespread. Do you have any friends at other buildings with similar issues?”
They both shake their heads.
I ask a few more questions and then wrap up the interview. Hopefully, I can help them.
Both kids are now sitting in Nick’s lap, where I was sitting last night.
My cheeks heat up. Stop it. We’re friends.
“Can we hire him for babysitting?” Tasha asks.
“Seriously,” I say. “He’s full of hidden talents.”
The three of us walk over to Nick. The kids clamber out of his lap and return to playing in the sand. I thank Tasha and Dulce for their help, asking them to call me if they discover anything more that would be helpful to prove this.
One child cries out, saying he hurt his finger on something sharp in the sand. We search the sand but don’t find anything. I give him a Band-Aid from my bag, and he stops sniffling.
As Nick and I walk away, I offer to pay for lunch, but Nick passes because he has to get back downtown. I tell him about the allegation that someone senior is behind this.
“That makes sense,” he says.
“There are three deputy commissioners, so that narrows it down somewhat.” I stop suddenly. “Didn’t you say your next performance was to celebrate some playground renovation?”
“Yeah, Amira booked us the gig,” Nick says. “Some joint Infrastructure Department and Parks Department deal.”
“Could it be this playground? The ceremony is January 25th.”
“I’ll check, but that date sounds about right.”
As we turn the corner of the building, ahead of us a woman stops a man with a toolbox. It looks like Beatrice! I pull Nick back out of sight against the brick wall.
“That’s the woman. C’mon.” I slip back around the corner, holding tight to the wall. A huge dumpster next to the wall blocks her view of us and ours of her.
I pull Nick by the hand and quickly scuttle up behind the dumpster. And then I take a deep breath as my ankle painfully reminds me that I don’t have full mobility.
Wow. It smells rank—as if it’s holding a million dirty diapers and poorly closed dog poop bags. I hold my nose.
“The smell…” Nick gags.
“Shh.” I hobble closer to where they are standing on the other side, but I also can’t get too close to the side of this dumpster because who knows what it’s been coated with. Other than dog piss. I can definitely smell that.
“Thanks for repairing that shower so quickly,” Beatrice says. “I have another job in 11J.”
The man says something, but I miss his reply because a car honks at that exact moment.
A phone rings, and Beatrice says, “I have to take this.”
It seems she takes a few steps back because her voice is closer as she says, “Hi, Deputy Commissioner, how are you?”
Deputy Commissioner.
I try to peek around the edge to get a closer look at the guy she was standing with. Maybe I can follow up with him. I snap a quick picture before ducking back.
“Can I help you?”
We look up to see a woman dressed in a green suit with heels staring at us from a few feet away—probably to stay out of the draft of this odor.
“Good luck,” Nick whispers.
I put my finger to my mouth and whisper to her, “Do you see a bunch of female fans on the other side?”
She looks around the dumpster. “No. Just Ms. Beatrice and that contractor, Pablo.”
Pablo!
I limp away from the dumpster, and Nick practically runs ahead of me to escape the smell.
“I told him I didn’t think any of his fans were about to mob us, but you know, you never can be too cautious,” I say.
As she takes in Nick, she seems to believe my cover story. Nick definitely has rock star looks, with that wavy hair, along with those well-worn jeans that hug his hip bones.
“I don’t like to disillusion him that we don’t have to worry about fans every place we go, so I try to humor him.”
Nick shoots me a look that promises retribution later.
“But as I told him, it’s only Ms. Beatrice and that guy Pablo,” I continue. “I forgot his last name.”
“I only know him as Pablo,” the woman says.
“Has he done any work on your apartment?”
“No, he worked on my neighbor’s sink.”
“Was he able to fix it?” I ask.
“I wouldn’t recommend him. You live in this building?” She folds her arms. That question was bound to come up.
“No, I’m visiting a friend,” I say.
“We should go,” Nick says. “Before my legions of fans return.”
We walk away, Nick offering me his arm as he realizes I’m still limping. When we’re far enough away that no one can hear us, he shakes his head. “Wow. That was unbelievably smooth, Maddie Hughes.”
Thankfully, the escalator is working for our ascent to the 125th Street subway platform.
“Your rock star persona is really handy for investigating,” I say. “Now whenever I’m wearing a disguise, I can say that I don’t want your fans to recognize me as your next-door neighbor.”
“Ah yes, my fans,” he says. “The hordes that follow me everywhere.”
“That fan earlier was running at us like her life depended on it. Does that happen often?” I ask as we wait for the train on the outside platform.
“Once in a while,” he says.
I glance at him. “I would find it hard to give up my privacy. Do you consider it a necessary evil, or do you enjoy the attention?”
“Are you asking in earnest?” he asks.
“Yes, but not as a reporter,” I say. The platform shakes slightly as a subway train pulls in.
“It’s not that I want to give up my privacy, but I really appreciate their fandom,” he says. “They’re the ones who make it possible for me to play music. And some put so much effort into promoting me. It’s mind-boggling.”
“That feels like the answer you would give a reporter,” I say.
His mouth curves up slightly. “You are a reporter—and a very slick one, as I just witnessed. But it’s also my honest answer. There are compromises with everything.”
“Even with art?” I ask.
“I want to sell my art,” he says. “I’m willing to make a lot of compromises if it will get me where I want to go.”
“Is your no-dating policy one of your compromises?” I ask.
Nick stares at me as if surprised that I noticed.
I may be focused on my career and burned out from my last experiences dating, but it seems like a waste for Nick not to be dating anyone.
He shrugs, saying he has to get back downtown to prepare for the meeting with MusEn, and quickly enters the train before the doors close.