Eye in the Ring Page 4

  I was about to reply, but he held up one hand to stop me.

  “Let’s not argue the point. Think about it and make your own decision. Will you let your sister-in-law know that I would like to go downtown with her? I prefer to do it that way. She will introduce me to the investigating officer, making it seem as if she was the one to bring me into it.”

  “I’ll let her know right away.”

  “Tell her I’ll pick her up at”—he checked his watch, then said—“ten-thirty this morning.” I had come to his office at nine, hoping to catch him before he went to court. If he was going to pick Julie up at ten-thirty, he must not have had any court appearances scheduled for that day.

  “Here’s the address,” I said, writing it on a piece of his stationery. He took it, glanced at it and tucked it away in his breast pocket.

  Getting up, I said, “I appreciate this, Heck.”

  He waved my appreciation away and said, “You might not. Let’s wait and see, shall we?”

  “I’ll go over and tell Julie to expect you. In fact, I might see you there.”

  “Fine. Miles?”

  “Yeah?” I said, stopping at the door.

  “I’ll do the best I can,” he promised.

  “I know it, Heck. I’ll see you.”

  Chapter Ten

  The cops were finished with Eddie’s office, so I was able to use my key to let myself in.

  I had gone from Hector’s office to Julie’s apartment, to let her know that Heck would be along to take her downtown.

  “What about you?” she asked. “Are you coming?”

  “No, Heck doesn’t want me around when he interviews Ben,” I told her.

  “And you don’t really want to come anyway, do you?” she asked.

  “Julie—”

  She held up her hand, then put it on my arm and said, “It’s all right, Miles. I understand. Eddie Waters was your friend.”

  “And Ben is my brother.”

  She rubbed her hand on my arm, as if to soothe me, but it was having the opposite effect. “You do what you have to do, Miles. I’ll understand,” she promised.

  I backed away from the touch of her hand, hopefully without seeming to.

  “I’ll do everything I can do to clear Ben, Julie. You know that.”

  “I know it,” she assured me.

  “But you’re right. I just don’t want to see him right now. Tell him—tell him I’m sorry about yesterday, about shouting at him. Tell him—”

  “I’ll tell him, Miles, don’t worry.”

  As I was leaving she said. “Call me later?”

  After that I went straight to Eddie’s office. It was locked, but the police seal on the door had been broken, indicating that they had gotten all the evidence they were going to get from within. I unlocked the door and walked in.

  I stood just inside the doorway, listening to the silence. I’d never been in the office when it wasn’t inhabited by either Missy or Eddie himself. It was an odd feeling. I felt like I was in Eddie’s tomb.

  I walked through the anteroom to Eddie’s office and sat down in front of his desk. I imagined him sitting behind his desk, as he had been so many times, teaching me, scolding me, encouraging me.

  Now he was dead, and if Benny didn’t kill him, who did?

  I got up and walked to Eddie’s file cabinets. The answer just might be in one of these drawers, I told myself, but which one? It could take me forever to sort them out, open cases from closed cases, most likely and least likely. I had never been involved with the files. That was Missy’s responsibility, and she was the only one who could help me and save me a hell of a lot of time.

  If she would do it.

  Missy had been very close to Eddie, not as a lover, but as a friend. He had given her a job when she was alone in the city, had given her something to take her mind off being alone. She had worked for him for eight years. If she was convinced that Ben had killed him, would she help me try to prove otherwise?

  There was only one way for me to find that out.

  I left the building and walked to Fifty-third and Third, where I caught the downtown train. At Delancey Street I changed to the M train to Queens. Missy had a house in Middle Village, and I was some detective because there I was on the train already and I hadn’t even called to make sure she was home. One of Eddie’s primary rules of private detecting was, “When you’re on a case, never waste time.” A ride to Missy’s house when she wasn’t even there sure came under the heading of wasting time.

  It was a good thing I lucked out.

  She was home.

  I walked to her house from the subway and rang the bell. I was about to hit it again when she opened the door. She’d been crying, and recently.

  “Hello, Missy.”

  “Jack,” she said, and started crying again. “Come on in,” she said through the tears.

  I’d never been to her house before. It was well kept, and from where I was I could see the living room and the dining room. Also a stairway leading upstairs.

  Missy was wearing a bathrobe, and her hair wasn’t combed, but she still looked fine to me. The robe was a short, terrycloth type and showed off her legs and thighs, a fact she seemed totally unaware of. I couldn’t say the same for me.

  “Missy,” I began, sitting next to her. “I need your help.”

  “I was just on the phone with the police,” she said, as if she hadn’t heard me. “They told me that I could go ahead and make funeral arrangements, they’d be releasing the body in a few days.”

  “You’re taking care of the arrangements?” I asked her.

  She nodded, holding a handkerchief to her nose. “Eddie didn’t have any family.”

  That stopped me because I never knew that about Eddie, and I felt that I should have. I guess there were a lot of things I didn’t know about him.

  “He was my friend,” I said out loud, “I should have known that.”

  She looked at me and then touched my face with her hand.

  “He used to say that you and I were the only family he had, Jack,” she told me, then fell against me and started crying again. I held her until she was all cried out, and then she offered to make some coffee. I agreed, only because it would give her something to do and a chance to pull herself together.

  By the time she came back with two cups of coffee, she seemed to have control of herself.

  “Thanks, Missy.”

  She made a face and said, “I hate that name. Eddie was the only one to call me that, until I met you, then you started.”

  “I only called you that because he did,” I said in my defense.

  “I know, I know. I tried to break him of the habit, but I finally gave up.” She sipped her coffee, staring straight ahead. I knew she was looking at something that I couldn’t see, so I tried to keep the conversation alive so she wouldn’t have the time to start crying again.

  “What’s your real name?”

  She made another face and said, “I hate that one, too. Just call me Missy,” she told me, “it’s the lesser of the two evils.”

  “Missy”—she made a face again, but I went on—“I need your help.”

  “To do what?” she asked.

  I hesitated a moment, because I knew my next remark was going to remind her that I was Ben’s brother.

  “I have to clear Ben, Missy,” I finally said.

  “Oh, no,” she said, putting down her cup and getting up from the couch. She took a few steps toward the middle of the room with her arms crossed in front of her.

  “Missy—”

  She turned quickly and said, “Jack, I know he’s your brother, I know that, but he killed Eddie!”

  “Honey,” I said, getting up and taking her by the shoulders, “did you see Ben do it?”

  “No, I didn’t see him, but—”

  “Missy, I don’t think my brother is a killer, but since I didn’t see what happened, I can’t be that sure. Can you?”

  She said, “I—” a couple of times a
nd then I went on.

  “I have to find out for sure, honey, for myself, and I need your help. Whether Benny did it or not, I have to know for sure. Missy, I need your help to go through Eddie’s files.”

  “The files? What for?”

  “If Ben didn’t do it, somebody else must have. It has to have something to do with one of Eddie’s cases. It would take me forever to go through those files myself,” I explained. “I need you to pull out the recent ones so I can go over them. I also need you to tell me if Eddie has had any, uh, disagreements recently with any of his clients, that sort of thing, Missy, I think we owe it to Eddie to make sure the right man is punished for killing him.”

  She digested that a moment, rubbing her arms as if she felt a chill, then said, “And I guess you owe it to your brother, too, huh?”

  “I owe it to myself to find out if my brother really did kill my best friend,” I replied.

  We stared at each other for a few moments, and then she said, “Give me some time to shower and change.”

  “I’ll get a cab.”

  “There’s a car service number by the phone,” she said from the steps. “Tell them half an hour.”

  “Okay.”

  I told them half an hour; they were there in forty minutes; she was ready in fifty. There wasn’t much conversation during the ride. I was wondering how Heck was doing with Benny. I had no way of knowing what was going on in Missy’s head, but I could imagine. She was probably wondering if she was doing the right thing in helping me. I hoped, for her sake, that it would turn out that she was.

  When we got to the office I used my key to open the door, but she balked at going in.

  “Missy—”

  “Just give me a minute, Jack,” she told me, holding up one hand, “just a minute, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Go on in. I’ll be along,” she assured me.

  I went in ahead of her, through the anteroom into Eddie’s office. I was puzzled by her reactions and wondered if I had been wrong in assuming that she and Eddie had never been more than friends.

  I went into his office and automatically headed for the visitor’s chair before catching myself. I hesitated to sit at his desk, but that was plain silly. It wasn’t his desk anymore, because he was gone. I sat down in his chair and waited for Missy to come in. When she did she started a bit when she saw me sitting behind the desk but recovered and sat in the visitor’s chair.

  “I guess if that desk does belong to anyone now it’s you,” she said.

  I wasn’t sure how to take the remark.

  “You want to switch places?” I asked her.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head, “and I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t mean to sound like—”

  “Missy, forget it.”

  She looked down at the floor, and I thought she was going to start crying again. I got up and walked around the desk and crouched down next to her.

  “Honey, were you and Eddie . . .” I started and let it trail off. She knew what I meant though, because she put her hand to her mouth, started crying and nodded her head.

  “I’m sorry,” I told her, letting her put her head on my shoulder. “I didn’t know.”

  She struggled to regain her composure, succeeded and said, “Nobody knew, Jack, nobody.”

  “Okay, honey, it’s okay,” I said, repeating those stupid words that everyone says when they know it damn well isn’t “okay.”

  “I’m sorry, Jack,” she said, finally, sitting up straight. “We came here to do something, so let’s do it.”

  “Missy, if I leave you alone here to pull the files, will you be all right?” I asked her.

  “Leave? Why?”

  “I have to see Hector about my brother.”

  “Hector Delgado?”

  I nodded. “I’ve asked Heck to defend Ben—or, at least, to talk to him. It’s the results of that talk I’m interested in. I’d just be in the way here, anyway. I can’t get started until you’ve pulled the files.”

  “I guess you’re right,” she agreed. “What files do you want pulled?”

  “I want his most recent cases going, oh, two or three months back, I guess. Make a notation on the ones he might have had problems with. You know, dissatisfied customer, difficult client, anything you think I should know about.”

  She nodded as I spoke, and then she added, “I’ll just pile them up on the desk for you. If you’re not back by about six, I’ll go on home . . . and yes, I’ll be fine, Jack, don’t worry.”

  “I know you will,” I told her. I kissed her on the cheek and headed for the door.

  “Jack?”

  “Yeh?”

  She was turned around in her chair, and her face was serious as she told me, “I still think your brother did it . . . but I’m willing to be convinced otherwise.”

  “I appreciate that, Missy, and I love you for it. I’ll call you later tonight.”

  She smiled wanly and nodded. I smiled back and waved. She was okay, that girl. She could’ve said the hell with my brother and the hell with me, but she’d been around Eddie too long—and been close to him too long—to do that.

  Besides, weren’t we part of the same family?

  Chapter Eleven

  “That story sounds kind of flaky,” I admitted.

  “I’m glad you were the one to say it, Miles,” Heck told me.

  “You mean, neither one of you believes him?” Julie asked us.

  I left it to Hector to explain.

  “That’s not really the point, Mrs. Jacoby,” he told her. “If his story sounds funny to us—whether we believe him or not—can you imagine how it must sound to the police?”

  “I see your point,” she told him.

  We were at Julie’s apartment, discussing Heck’s interview with Benny. My brother’s story was an unoriginal one: he remembered drinking, going to see Eddie, and getting into an argument, but beyond that things got kind of hazy. In fact, beyond that, things disappeared altogether.

  According to Benny.

  Did I believe him?

  Hell, I wanted to . . . but ask me again later.

  Benny claimed he didn’t even remember being taken into custody. The arresting officer had stated that he was definitely out of it when they grabbed him.

  “Has Ben ever had blackout before?” Heck asked. “Alcohol- induced or otherwise?”

  “Just the normal morning-after blank spaces, but nothing this complete that I know of,” I answered, looking at Julie.

  “No,” she told Heck, “nothing like this.”

  “What do you say, Heck?” I asked him. “Will you defend Ben?”

  He put down the coffee cup he was drinking from and looked at both of us.

  “I believe your brother was honest with me, Miles,” he said, looking directly at me, “as far as his feelings for Eddie Waters went. He didn’t like Waters, and he felt that he was hurting your boxing career. That gives him a definite motive, but he was honest with me about it. If Mrs. Jacoby wants me to, I would like to handle his case.”

  He looked at Julie, who in turn looked at me. I nodded, and she said, “Thank you, Mr. Delgado.”

  “Por nada,” he said, then added, “yet.”

  “Would you like some more coffee?” Julie asked him.

  “I’m afraid I have some other business matters to attend to,” he told her, standing up. I could see that he was affected by her, as most men were, and it brought out the charm in him all the more. He took her hand and told her, “I will do the very best that I can for your husband, Mrs. Jacoby.”

  “If that’s the case, Mr. Delgado, then I insist that you call me Julie,” she told him, gracing him with a smile.

  “Very well . . . Julie,” he agreed. I thought for a moment that he would kiss her hand, but he gave it a little shake, then extended it to me for a much firmer one.

  “Thanks, Heck.”

  “You insist on thanking me before I have done anything,” he told me. “Bien, then you are welcome. Miles, call m
e tomorrow, eh? There are things we must discuss.”

  I frowned, but said, “All right, Heck. I’ll call you.”

  He nodded, said good night to Julie again, and I showed him to the door. When I returned to the small living room, Julie had her hands up in front of her mouth, and for a moment I thought she was crying. When she dropped her hands, I saw that she was laughing.

  “What’s funny?” I asked her.

  “He is.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, groping for the right words, “but he’s so . . . so . . .”

  “Ricardo Montalbanish?”

  “That’s it, exactly,” she exclaimed, pressing her hands together and pointing at me with the two index fingers.

  “Yeah, I’ve always thought that,” I told her, and then we were both laughing. Suddenly, the smile faded from her face and she sobered.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  “It’s not right,” she said. “Benny’s in jail and here I am laughing.”

  She hugged her arms, as if she were suddenly chilled. I stepped close to her and took her by the elbows.

  “Don’t feel guilty about laughing, Julie,” I told her.

  She looked me straight in the eyes and said, “I don’t think it’s the laughter I feel guilty about, Miles.” She put her hands on my chest and I started to pull her toward me, but stopped.

  We were both thinking the same thing, but she was the first to put it into words.

  “Miles, I think you’d better go. I—I’m a little tired, you know? It’s been a long . . .”

  “I know.”

  “. . . day, and . . .”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow, Julie,” I said as she trailed off. I let go of her elbows and backed away, then turned and headed for the door before something happened that we’d both regret later.

  Down on the street I knew I didn’t want to go home and be alone tonight, so I did something I had swornI’d never do again.

  I went to Tracy’s.