Chapter Twenty-Five #3
“I don’t suppose there’s some unspoken list of dirty cops out there?
” Vivian asked without much hope. The tables in the restaurant were covered with lace-edged tablecloths, and a cheerful yellow curtain hung over the bottom half of each window.
The counter even had little jars full of flowers spaced along it, next to the morning’s paper.
But all she could see were the shadows in the corner of the room.
“Guys that everyone knows about but no one talks about?”
Leo shrugged, grimacing. “Sure, to some degree,” he said.
His hat rested next to his plate on the counter, and he absently spun it in circles as he thought.
“But I’m not in with them enough to know many details.
The only guys I know are the ones my uncle has specifically asked me to work with, and even they don’t like me much.
But I don’t think that’ll help us narrow it down.
Plenty of cops in bed with mobsters these days. Just look at today’s paper.”
“I didn’t see it,” Vivian said, shrugging. “Not much for keeping up with the news. Especially not this week. I always figure it doesn’t have much to do with folks like me.”
“Here.” Leo stood, reaching out to snag one of the papers that was a few feet away from where they were sitting. He shuffled through the pages, then refolded it and slid it toward her. “See there, cop who was killed last month in a suspected mob hit. Young fella, too.”
The article was a profile of the young officer’s service, accompanied by quotes from his fellow officers.
Most of the photos were from what looked like his funeral, full of flags and medals and a horse-drawn hearse.
But one of the photos was him in uniform.
He hadn’t been a good-looking man; his nose was too big for his face, and his eyebrows gave his eyes a scowling expression, even though he was smiling at the camera.
But something about the photo made Vivian frown.
“You knew him?” she asked.
“I worked with him when I first came back to the city, just a quick, one-night job for my uncle. And he was dirty as they come. If he got offed in a mob hit, it was probably whoever he was working for tying up some loose ends. Or someone sending the fella he worked for a message. Either way…” Leo shrugged.
“Everyone’s got a racket on the side. It’s almost a job requirement. ”
It reminded her too much of what Hattie Wilson had described.
Vivian shivered, wondering if it was the same man, trying to pay off his family debts and losing his life for his trouble.
“He was real young,” Vivian said quietly, glancing through the pictures, but she trailed off as one in particular caught her eye.
“Hey, anyone in this look familiar to you?”
She slid the paper over so Leo could take a look at the photo from the funeral, and he frowned in thought as he stared at it. “That guy at the front, in the dress uniform. I think I’ve seen him before, but I couldn’t say where.”
“I think he was the one at the pawnshop,” Vivian said. In the photograph, the man’s face was drawn into a tight expression that showed no emotion at all. Serious and stoic, like the rest of the officers around him. “Arthur, the owner called him. Does it say who he is?”
“Caption says he was the poor bastard’s dad.” Leo let out a low whistle, shaking his head sympathetically. “Gambling problem and a son getting offed on a boss’s orders? Tough time for him. No wonder he said he was getting out of New York.”
“His dad?” Vivian pulled the paper back toward her to take a closer look.
“Maybe that’s why the dead fella looked so familiar…
” Her voice trailed off again as she stared at the caption, which listed the names of the officers in the picture by initial and last name.
P. Rossi, H. Gonzales, G. Flannigan … She looked back at the text of the article, scanning quickly to find the name of the dead man.
“Everything okay?” Leo asked when she stopped talking.
“Yeah.” Vivian gave herself a little shake as the waitress behind the counter came to take their plates away.
“Anything else, kids?” she asked.
“I’m all set, thanks,” Vivian said. She pointed to the paper. “Mind if I take a copy of this?”
“Help yourself,” the waitress said cheerfully, beginning to stack their dishes. “They mostly just get read by the morning crowd. Anything else for you, sir?”
“Nah, that’s it for today,” he agreed, pulling his wallet out from inside his jacket. “Swell meal. Where to next, Viv?”
“That’s all for my day,” she said, folding up the newspaper and tucking it under her arm.
Leo gave it a brief glance but didn’t ask why she wanted to take it with her.
She was glad about that. If he had asked, she would have had to lie to him.
“I’m just going to go see how Bea and her family are doing. ”
“I’ll keep you company on the way, if you don’t mind?”
Vivian couldn’t have said what they talked about as they caught the nearest streetcar and headed west and south past the park. She expected him to leave her at the station, but he insisted on accompanying her to the door of Bea’s building, just to be cautious.
“We still don’t know if someone might be keeping an eye on you,” he pointed out as they walked. “Better safe than sorry.”
“Sure,” Vivian agreed, not meeting his eyes, her fingers clenched around the paper. “But probably best that you don’t come up. Bea’s not really your biggest fan.”
“Still doesn’t trust me?”
Vivian made a face. “Can’t quite get past who your uncle is.”
“And what about you, Viv?” he asked, stopping on the sidewalk in front of Bea’s building and putting a hand on her arm. “Do you trust me yet?”
She didn’t want to answer flippantly, but after a moment she nodded. “I think so. I think I got there.”
There was a long pause, as though he were waiting for something else. “I sure am glad to hear that,” he said at last, giving her a smile and a quick kiss on the cheek.
The spot where his lips had brushed tingled.
Vivian hoped she wasn’t blushing. There had been plenty of sparks between her and Leo not long ago, try as she might to ignore them.
As he stepped back, she wanted to reach out and pull him closer, to bury her face against his jacket and pretend she was safe and cared for, that everything around her was simple.
But just at that moment, she couldn’t afford to be distracted by a handsome smile or a fella who smelled like sandalwood and wintergreen.
She couldn’t afford the fantasy that anything was safe or easy.
And she couldn’t afford to let him know what she was planning, because there was no way he would let her go without trying to stop her.
Her fist tightened around the paper once more.
Leo tipped his head toward the building’s door. “Go on, get up there. I’m sure Bea could use a friend right now.”
It took her a beat to find her voice. “Yeah. Thanks again for lunch. I’ll see you around?”
“Count on it.” He waited for her to go inside the building.
Before the door closed behind her, she saw him give a quick glance around, an instinctive gesture from a man who was used to trouble following him. Then he set off down the street. Vivian took a deep breath and began to climb the stairs.
Bea was usually home alone this time of day, with her family members at work and school. She crossed her fingers that Alba was out, too.
She and Bea had a visit to make.
“Girls.” Dr. Harris stepped back from the door, looking surprised as he gestured for them to come inside. “This is unexpected. Is one of you sick? Is Alba all right?”
“We’re just fine,” Vivian said, her voice steady. Her hand was steady, too, as she pulled the snub-nosed revolver from her purse and pointed it right at him.
Dr. Harris’s eyes went wide, and he held up both hands in front of his chest as he took a quick, stumbling step back. “What—”
“I’m here for the dress,” Vivian said coldly.
“It doesn’t belong to you, and it didn’t belong to me.
And Bea—” She tilted her head toward her friend, who was standing just behind her, but she didn’t take her eyes off the doctor.
“Bea is here for some answers.” She pulled the hammer back on the revolver. “So start talking.”