She laughed at his hyperbole as she looked into his unsteady eyes. "You're not gonna get too drunk tonight, are you, Nick?"

"Not if you don't let me."

She pulled her black shirt over her head and tossed it aside.

"That's a start," said Stefanos. He kissed her, running his hand down her bare arm. "Your skin is soft. You smell good, too. I ever tell you that?" He smiled.

"Why so happy?" she said.

"I can't explain it. Adrenalin. I had a good day today. What happened today wouldn't be good to someone else, but it was for me. And now there's you."

They embraced. The room was warm, and they stripped naked. Stefanos put a Stan Getz on the platter. He came back and held her, and they joked and talked. They made it on the couch and they woke in the morning in each other's arms.

THIRTY.

NICK STEFANOS HANDED a stack of photographs to Terrence Mitch.e.l.l. Stefanos sat in the morning light that streamed through the front window of Mitch.e.l.l's house and looked at the pa.s.sing traffic out on Chillum Road. He looked at a squirrel running up the trunk of a dogwood tree. He didn't want to look at Mitch.e.l.l. a stack of photographs to Terrence Mitch.e.l.l. Stefanos sat in the morning light that streamed through the front window of Mitch.e.l.l's house and looked at the pa.s.sing traffic out on Chillum Road. He looked at a squirrel running up the trunk of a dogwood tree. He didn't want to look at Mitch.e.l.l.

When Mitch.e.l.l was done he straightened the stack as he would a deck of cards, straightened it again as he struggled with what he had just seen. His shoulders sagged, and he leaned back into the couch.

"Who is that with Erika?" asked Mitch.e.l.l.

"A drug dealer by the name of Sean Forjay," said Stefanos. "Your daughter's seeing him regularly."

Mitch.e.l.l looked away. "Are they tight?"

"After you drop her off at Fort Totten, he picks her up at the P. G. Plaza station every morning and returns her there early in the evening."

"So Erika has no job."

"I don't know that, Mr. Mitch.e.l.l."

"But she has has been lying to me." been lying to me."

"I would say so, yes."

"This world," muttered Mitch.e.l.l. He stood, went to the window, and stared out into his front yard, the fence that surrounded it, its barbed-wire cap. With his back to Stefanos he said, "You can't stop it from reaching you. You can try, but it doesn't work."

"Mr. Mitch.e.l.l -"

"Isn't that right."

"I suppose it is."

Mitch.e.l.l touched his hand to the gla.s.s. "I know you think I'm some kind of stiff. But there was a time... Let me tell you, I knew how to have fun. The house parties we'd have in the bas.e.m.e.nts, with those blue lights, dancing with the young ladies to the Motown sound. The concerts at the Howard, back in the early sixties? You could check out six bands for a buck-fifty, man. h.e.l.l, I saw James Brown and the Flames at the Howard when J. B. was the boss for real. Yeah, I knew how to have fun. And the city was alive.

"But the city changed. And then my wife left me, and it was just Erika and me. So I moved us out here... to this. A brown patch of gra.s.s and a pile of bricks under the power lines. I wanted to protect her, see? But I couldn't protect her, Stefanos. You can't stop it from reaching you. No, you can't."

"This is the world we've got," said Stefanos.

Mitch.e.l.l continued to stare through the window for another minute and then he stood straight. "Go ahead and give me the rest of it. I know there's more."

"Okay. Here's what I think. Forjay is the top dog down around First and Kennedy. Randy Weston and Donnel Lawton were small-change dealers compared to him, but he still wanted them out. He also wanted Erika, who was tight with Weston, all to himself. He figured out a way to get everything he wanted at once."

"What puts Forjay at the crime scene?"

"A tricked-out red Torino was spotted leaving the crime scene just after gunshots were heard around the time of death. I found that Torino last night, parked in Forjay's garage."

"So Forjay framed up Weston."

"Yeah. He got ahold of the key to Weston's apartment. It would have been easy for him to plant the gun. An anonymous call tipped the police to the whereabouts of the murder weapon. They made the arrest."

Mitch.e.l.l nodded slowly as he put it together. Stefanos didn't feel the need to go the rest of the way: that it was Erika who had the key to Weston's crib. That Erika, most likely, had made the anonymous call.

Mitch.e.l.l said, "What's going to happen to my little girl?"

"I don't know," said Stefanos. "But I still need you to alibi Randy Weston."

Mitch.e.l.l turned, his eyes rimmed red. "Randy Weston could not have killed Donnel Lawton. He was here in this living room when that boy was killed."

"You'll testify to that?"

"Yes." Mitch.e.l.l looked down at Stefanos. "What you said to me the other day, about me bein' no better than those criminals out there... You were wrong."

"I know it. The truth is, I knew it then."

"You try to keep Erika out of this," said Mitch.e.l.l.

"I'm going to meet with Weston's defense counsel this afternoon." Stefanos stood and shook Mitch.e.l.l's hand. "I'll do the best I can."

"You're a cheap date," said Elaine Clay, watching Stefanos chew his food.

"Look at this," he said, excitedly pointing the knife at his plate. "Chopped steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, tossed salad, and biscuits. The whole thing was, what, four and change?"

"Uh-huh."

"How's yours?"

"A little bland, to tell you the truth."

"The food is good, but you have to spice it up yourself. They don't salt it on account of all the potential heart attacks in this place. They keep the A-1 and soy sauce behind the register. You have to ask for it when you pa.s.s through."

"You're the Scholl's expert, huh?"

"I've been coming here my whole life. Well, not here here. My grandfather used to take me to the old Scholl's at Vermont and K."

Stefanos looked around the cafeteria, filled with old folks, working stiffs, and bus tourists, and a diligent multiethnic staff. Religious sayings and Christian icons hung on the walls. He nodded to an ancient geezer with a flowing gray beard, reading a newspaper with the aid of a magnifying gla.s.s.

"See that guy? He eats here the same time every day."

"That's great, Nick. Can we get back to the case?"

"You're just upset because there's no lawyers in this place." "Yeah, I'm really feeling naked around all these common folk." Elaine had a bite of chicken a la king and laid down her fork. "So Terrence Mitch.e.l.l is definitely going to testify."

"That's right. You going to get Sean Forjay charged with the murder?"

"It's not my job to get anybody charged with murder, you know that. I'll feed the information you dug up to the D.A.'s office as a courtesy. Other than that, when Weston gets acquitted, I'm out."

"The cops should have nailed this one to begin with."

"They made what they thought was an easy and clean arrest. There's too many unsolved homicides out there for them to overcomplicate the ones that fall into their laps solved."

Stefanos swallowed a mouthful of mashed potatoes. "Sean Forjay's gonna walk, isn't he?"

"The car proves nothing. The murder weapon had no prints. There are are no witnesses. From where I sit, I don't think they even have enough to charge him." no witnesses. From where I sit, I don't think they even have enough to charge him."

"Unless they put Erika Mitch.e.l.l on the stand."

"They're not going to know a thing about Erika Mitch.e.l.l. I need Terrence Mitch.e.l.l's testimony. If he gets angry or fearful for his daughter and decides not to testify, Randy Weston goes to prison. I'm not going to jeopardize Weston's acquittal for some vague concept of justice."

"What's justice got to do with any of this?"

"Nothing. You need to get past all that. If you want justice -"

"I know, I know." Stefanos pushed his empty plate to the side and sat back in his chair. "Anyway, it's a job."

"You did a good good job, Nick. Randy Weston is not a hard kid. You know what would have happened to him in prison? What he would have become? You saved his life." job, Nick. Randy Weston is not a hard kid. You know what would have happened to him in prison? What he would have become? You saved his life."

"I hear you. Thanks."

"I owe you for this one."

"There is something you can do."

He asked Elaine to run a background check on Manuel Ruiz and Jaime Gutierrez. He gave her the address of their garage. The lease records would have their home addresses. Knowing this would prevent Elaine from confusing them with anyone else.

"Here's one more name while you're running those checks," said Stefanos. "A guy named Thomas Wilson."

Elaine hesitated for a moment. "What's going on? You taking side jobs again?"

"No."

"Okay, go ahead and play it like that if you want to. Anything else?"

"Well, yes. You could reimburse me for a flashlight."

"Why would I do that?" said Elaine.

"I broke it on the job," said Stefanos. "If it's all right with you, I'll just go ahead and send you the bill."

THIRTY-ONE.

WILLIAM JONAS PICKED up his phone and punched a number into its grid. While he listened to the phone ring, he rubbed his finger on the checkered grip of the service revolver that was lying in his lap. He sat behind the bay window of his house, looking out onto Hamlin. up his phone and punched a number into its grid. While he listened to the phone ring, he rubbed his finger on the checkered grip of the service revolver that was lying in his lap. He sat behind the bay window of his house, looking out onto Hamlin.

The call was answered, and the voice on the other end said, "Boyle." Jonas heard a young kid and a teenage kid arguing in the background.

"Danny, it's Bill Jonas."

"Hey, Bill. Sorry I haven't gotten back to you on the letter and envelope."

"That's why I'm calling. I've been contacted again by the man who sent the letter."

"Through the mail?"

"By phone. I'd like to see you, Dan. I need to see you tonight tonight."

"Any idea where he was calling from?"

"He's in town. He followed my son. He threatened threatened my son." my son."

"All right," said Boyle. "Have you contacted anyone else yet?"

"You mean have I called the station?"

"Yeah."

"You're a cop. I'm calling you."

Jonas listened to dead air as Boyle put his hand over the mouthpiece. Then Boyle got back on the line. "Okay. I'll be right over. But I'm bringing a friend."

"Who?"

"A guy named Nick Stefanos."

"I met him last week at the meeting," said Jonas. "Private cop, right?"

"Don't hold that against him. I've been with him in situations before. He's good at what he does, and we're gonna need him. He's friends with Dimitri Karras, the father of -"