Authors: Keith Gilman
The front door of the deli opened again and a cold wind ran across the floor, blew a napkin off a table in the back. The old men rotated on their stools once more, their eyes following the napkin waving in the wind like a white flag floating to the ground, then turning to Sarah Blackwell, framed in the doorway, clutching a heavy gray wool coat to her neck, her eyes searching. Lou jumped off the stool, flew to her, shut the door, and ushered her to a booth in the corner. She didn’t seem ready to give up the coat. Lou signaled to Hesh and the waitress brought over two cups of steaming black coffee.
She raised the cup to her lips, took a hesitant sip as if her lips were testing the temperature of the hot liquid. Her face was red, burned from the wind, Lou thought. She could have been crying. She had dark red hair, the color of cherry, the glow of polished wood, hair that couldn’t have come to that color naturally, the way it darkened by shades depending on how it caught the light. It was cut short, barely touching her shoulders, falling at severe angles over her face. It was a style Lou had seen on women much younger than Sarah Blackwell, but few that wore it as well. She was at least forty, and if Lou hadn’t known better, if he wasn’t looking into her eyes, he would have assumed she was in her late twenties.
She was obviously thin beneath the coat, a narrow neck and wrists, a model’s face of smooth skin and sharp bone. Her blue jeans clung to her hips, worn thin at the thigh and frayed at the cuff. She wore black boots, that had a pointed toe and spiked heel.
“I don’t know where to begin, Lou.”
“It has been a long time.”
“Too long. You haven’t changed. You’re the same person, Lou. I can see it. Any other man I called, any of Sam’s old cop friends, would have met me in some sleazy lounge or a club. Louis Klein meets me at a deli in Overbrook.”
“I figured you might be hungry.”
She forced a smile, took another sip of coffee, and put the cup down on the table. She slid out of her coat and let it fall from her shoulders. She wore a black sweater underneath and it was pulled tight across her breasts.
“Carol Ann has run away. She’s done it before, Lou, but she’s always come back. This time it’s different. I can feel it. She’s been through so much.”
“When’s the last time you saw her?”
“Last Saturday. She left for work in the afternoon, about three. That’s the last time I saw her. She said she was going out with her friends after work. She never came home.”
“Anything unusual happen that day, anything that might have got her upset?”
“We argued, Lou. We argue a lot. It seems like the only way we know how to communicate. I’d yell and she’d yell, and pretty soon we were at each other’s throats. It’s not like we don’t love each other. She’s the only thing left in my life. I think we’re both dealing with a lot of the same feelings toward Sam and the suicide, and just don’t know how to express them . . . how to let it go. She took it really hard.”
“I only know what I read in the papers, Sarah. There were a
lot of rumors floating around back then. I meant to talk to you about it.”
“I wish you’d been there, Lou. Everything changed after the accident. He just wasn’t the same. It changed him. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose a leg, especially like that, in a car crash, but it seemed like he just gave up.”
“It wasn’t just the leg, Sarah. He lost his career. Sam dreamed of being a cop since the first day I met him. Those dreams die hard.”
“They had to cut him out of the car. He was trapped and the artery in his leg was severed. He was bleeding to death. He was in surgery at the University of Pennsylvania Hospital for eight hours. I got over there as soon as I heard but the leg was already gone.”
“I wish we could have stayed close. I could have been there for him.”
“I think he wished the same.”
“The news traveled fast. It’s not every day a fully loaded garbage truck hits a police cruiser at a busy intersection. He probably never saw it coming.”
“At the hospital, Lou, he wouldn’t see me, wouldn’t even let me in the room.”
“I’m sure he was out of it. Maybe he just needed time alone.”
“It was really bad there for a while. He came home but things weren’t the same. It was the whiskey and the fights and then days of complete silence. I could have lived with it. But it was the way he treated Carol Ann. He hardly ever played with her any more. He shut her out of his life, just like he shut me out. He was cold and withdrawn. Carol Ann was only about nine or ten and couldn’t understand.”
“It sounds to me that you two might have been dealing with a lot of resentment toward him and now that he’s dead, you feel guilty. I felt the same way after my mother’s death.”
An icy film formed over Sarah’s eyes, thick with doubt, as if the memory had sucked her dry. She caught Lou watching her. This was the first time they’d even approached speaking on intimate terms.
“Don’t get me wrong. There were good times, early on, when he first worked for the city. He’d come home in his uniform and Carol Ann would meet him on the stairs. I know it doesn’t sound like much but the pay was decent and the benefits were good. You knew what it was like, Lou. You had the same thing. We were like a normal family back then. I’d make his supper while he played with Carol Ann in the yard. He brought home an old truck tire one day, tied it up on the oak tree in the back. Carol Ann would swing on it all day, back and forth for hours, while Sam pushed. They’d never get tired of it. I remember looking out the kitchen window, watching him climb that tree with a thick rope over his shoulder. He tied it to a branch that hung out over the yard. All the kids in the neighborhood came to swing on it.”
“Those were good times for both of us.”
“It came to an end pretty quick, though. He was a sick man, Lou. I think he was always that way and the accident just brought it out of him. Between the pills and the booze, Sam was in a stupor twenty-four hours a day. The guy was numb for the last six months of his life and he wanted it that way. It was like he was on another planet. We were all waiting to see what would finally happen and then it did.”
“You’re still angry about it. Aren’t you?”
“Wouldn’t you be? If it was your kid? I understood how severe his injuries were. But, no, I could not forgive him for his treatment of our daughter. She was a child. She didn’t deserve what she got.”
“They never do.”
“Sam had been on a bender all week. He was walking
around the house muttering to himself, cursing out loud and punching the walls. I thought he was slipping over the edge. I tried to protect Carol Ann the best I could, sending her to my mother’s for days at time. I couldn’t hide him from her forever.”
The waitress came over with a fresh pot of coffee and refilled their cups. Sarah lit a cigarette, took a few drags, and let it smolder in the ashtray.
“Sam usually stayed in the basement. He had a little room set up down there, where he would smoke cigarettes and drink. After Carol Ann and I went to bed he’d come upstairs and lay down on the couch in the living room. He’d leave the television on all night with the volume up. I’d come down in the middle of the night and turn it off.”
“On that last night, I awoke about three-thirty and noticed how quiet it was in the house. I came down and didn’t see him sleeping on the couch. He wasn’t in the basement either. He so rarely left the house. I couldn’t imagine where he was and I got worried. I went into the kitchen. I got out the bottle of whiskey he kept in the refrigerator and was standing over the sink pouring a glass.”
“That’s when I saw him. I thought I was dreaming. I kept telling myself it wasn’t real, that I’d wake up and I’d be back in bed. He was hanging from the swing in the backyard, the swing he hung for Carol Ann. He was just dangling there, swaying, with the rope wrapped around his neck and that big truck tire weighing him down. His eyes were open, looking at me, his lips pulled apart in a gruesome smile. His tongue stuck out, all bloated and black. He wanted me to see him like that. He blamed me for what happened to him. But why did Carol Ann have to see? I was frozen at the window. She came down the stairs and I couldn’t stop her. It was like she had seen a ghost. She covered her eyes with her hands and fell to her knees.”
“It’s like a nightmare, Sarah. I had no idea.”
“I thought I was going to lose my little girl too, that night. She ran out the back door and almost ran right into her father’s body. She screamed and kept running, through the backyard into the alley. I was frantic. I didn’t know what to do. I called the police and they came out here and cut him down. They brought her back, too. She was shaking so hard I thought her bones would break. She was white as a ghost. She didn’t utter a word for months afterward. She wouldn’t sleep at night and I had to take her out of school. I started bringing her in the bed with me. This is the first time I’ve told anyone about that night since it happened.”
Lou let out a long sigh while Sarah tried to puff the cigarette back to life. Two of the customers at the counter shrugged into their topcoats and waddled out the door, giving Lou a lazy wave. Joe Giordano finished his coffee and folded the paper neatly in half. Heshy was drying dishes, stacking the plates and glasses on the shelf.
“Has she been seeing anyone recently, a boyfriend?”
“She’s been going with a guy named Richie Mazzino. I don’t like him, Lou. He hangs out at a place called the Rusty Nail. He fancies himself some kind of biker. He’s bad news. Carol Ann knew I didn’t want her with him but that didn’t stop her. Talk to her friends, Lou, the ones I told you about. They’ll know more than me.”
Sarah pushed a few strands of hair from her face. She stood and Lou helped her on with her coat. She rested her purse on the table and pulled out a wallet.
“Keep your money, Sarah. I’ll be in touch.”
Lou had his back to the door, letting his hands linger on Sarah’s shoulders. Her eyes were closed and she let herself tilt back, let him feel her weight against him. He was close enough
to smell her. Neither one of them pretended it was a moment they wouldn’t have liked to last a little longer. They didn’t immediately notice the man standing in the doorway, staring at them. His eyes were black slits. He wore a green and black Eagles football jacket. His hair was jet black and combed down flat over his forehead. A white scar seemed to split his upper lip in half. His nose was as flat as if it had been broken more than once and was in a different position every morning when he woke up.
“Mr. Trafficante isn’t going to like this.”
The words were spoken casually, in a deep whisper that reached them like the growl of a tiger in the dark. Sarah jumped out of her skin.
“What are you doing here?”
“Mr. Trafficante pays me to look after his interests. I’m just doing my job.”
“Get out of here, Tommy. This is none of your business. Tell Vince whatever you like.”
“Let’s go. You’re coming with me.”
He grabbed her by the arm. He didn’t pull her but there was enough pressure in his grip to convince her. She tried to wrench her arm free and when he wouldn’t let go, she kicked him in the shin with the point of her boot. His hand relaxed for a second and she was able to get away. Lou stepped between them.
“She’s not going with you. Play it smart. Turn around and walk out the same way you came in.”
Tommy planted his feet and pushed Lou in the chest—sent him back about three feet. Joe Giordano jumped off his stool with a gun in his hand. It was pointed loosely at Tommy’s chest.
“You don’t know what you’re getting involved in,” Tommy barked.
“I’ll take my chances.”
Tommy backed out and slammed the door behind him.
Every pane of glass in the place rattled as if it would shatter. Sarah was crying. Lou faced her, his hands on her shoulders again, holding her gently at arm’s length.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t want this to happen. I thought getting remarried, starting over, would be good for me, good for Carol Ann. Now, I’m not so sure. I’m like a prisoner, Lou.”
“Who’s he?”
“Tommy Ahearn. He works for my husband. But he’s more than that.”
“More in what way?”
“It’s a long story, Lou. I’ll tell it to you some time. Suffice it to say, he’s got Vincent’s blood in his veins and that makes him a ruthless son of a bitch.”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
“Is there a bathroom in here? I need to freshen up.”
He pointed to a door against the back wall. She held her purse tight against her as if she’d almost been robbed. Her heels clicked lightly on the linoleum floor.
“Thanks for backing me up, Joe.”
“My pleasure.”
“If you’re going to use my place as your office, Lou, you’re going to have to give Joe here a cut. He’s good security,” Heshy added.
“Anything I can help you out with, Lou, just ask. Retirement is making me slow and fat. I could use a little excitement.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Joe.”
The waitress had just finished wiping the counter with a damp rag. She’d gone from table to table with a bucket and a sponge and swept the crumbs from the floor. She pulled her coat off a hook on the wall and slid into it.
“Hey, Judy. Before you go, could you check on Lou’s friend in the ladies room? She’s been in there awhile. Maybe she needs some help.”
Judy rolled her eyes and did as Heshy asked. She got one step inside and screamed.
“You better get in here, Hesh. I think she’s dead.”
Lou got there first. Sarah was sprawled out on the bathroom floor, her legs pinned awkwardly beneath the white porcelain sink, her face a ghastly shade of pale. Her mouth hung open and a rusty brown liquid, saliva mixed with blood, seeped out. Her lip was split, probably from hitting the sink when she fell, Lou thought. The floor could be a long way down. An open pill bottle lay near her outstretched hand. It was empty.
Lou felt for a pulse, first on her wrist, then her neck. He’d found it, the faintest of drumbeats, slow and distant. Her pallor was turning a bluish tint from lack of oxygen. She’d stopped breathing. He cupped her chin in his palm and pressed his mouth to hers. Her chest rose slowly as he blew in two deep breaths. The rattle in her throat as the air escaped sounded like snoring. The taste of blood was bitter in his mouth. He waited for her to take a breath—to breathe on her own. He pressed his lips to hers again, fitting his open mouth tightly over hers. Her lips had grown suddenly cold. He heard the sirens in the background. Joey had called for an ambulance.