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Neil was already slicing open the boxes. The Premium salesman squatted next to him, filling the lower shelves.

“Hey, Gordon! C’mere and see,” Neil called, gesturing. “This is it. The icing on the cake.” He held up a jar of capers. “So what do you think? Is this a first-class operation or what?”

The salesman looked up and started to smile.

Gordon hurried past them into the storage room.

“What was that all about?” Neil asked, coming in a moment later. “I ask you a question and you just walk away?”

“I had to do something.”

A smile quivered at Neil’s mouth. “You know who that was?”

Gordon nodded. Eric Reese, Jerry Cox’s best friend. At the trial, Reese had testified that he and Cox had skipped school. They spent most of the afternoon drinking at Reese’s house, which was across the street from the Walterses’. Cox told Reese that Mrs. Walters was always trying to come on to him. Whenever he did yardwork, she walked around inside half-dressed. Wishful thinking, said Reese. Cox then made similar remarks about Reese’s girlfriend. They argued, and Reese told him to leave. A little while later Gordon turned a corner and ran into Cox, who was angry and drunk. Gordon was pleased Cox knew his name and flattered by his confidences as they hung out in the park. He didn’t know who the horny Mrs. Walters was, so Cox said he’d show him where she lived.

“He’s as surprised as you are.” Neil stepped closer. “He didn’t know you were out. Nice guy, you ought to go say hi to him.”

“I don’t think so.”

“He said he always felt bad for you. He said right after Jerry got out they went drinking, and Jerry starts crying and telling Reese the thing he felt worst about, worse even than the girl’s dying, was you. He said you got screwed. The next day he blows his brains out. Reese said after that he always wondered. He just asked me, he said, ‘What’s he say about it?’ ”

“I’m not going to talk about this.”

“Well, I’ve got a right to know. I mean, I’ve got obligations to those people out there.” He pointed to the door. “They don’t know what to think. All they know is what they heard. The girls, they won’t ask you, but ever since that thing with Ferguson, they’re scared.”

“Well, if they are, I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Yes, there is. They want to know, they keep asking me, what’s the story. What am I supposed to tell them?”

“Whatever you want, Neil. It’s up to you.”

CHAPTER 10

Gordon was getting ready for his appointment with his parole officer. Their first meeting had been little more than a bureaucratic checklist, restating the terms of parole along with names of various social service agencies and temporary shelters if he needed them. He showered, shaved again, shined his shoes: nothing left to chance. Mazzorio would have no doubts about his suitability as a free man. He was struggling with his tie knot when the phone rang.

It was Delores. Her sister Karen had told her about Mrs. Jukas coming into the emergency room, and she just wondered how she was doing. All right, he told her. As it turned out, she hadn’t had a heart attack. She was supposed to come home in a few days.

“What about you? How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. I’m okay. Busy, I’ve been really busy.” That’s really why she called, he thought. Surely her sister knew more about Mrs. Jukas’s condition than he did.

“Karen said you were so nice to the poor old woman.”

“She was having a lot of pain. I think she was scared more than anything.”

“That must be so awful, getting a call like that in the middle of the night.”

“She was pretty upset.”

“Poor thing. Especially being all alone like that. My neighbor upstairs, she’s eighty-six. Sometimes I’ll think, Oh jeez, now when was the last time I saw Edna, and then I’ll go running up. And usually she’s in—”

“Um, excuse me. I’m sorry, Delores, but I can’t talk. I have to go. I have to do something.”

She apologized. She hadn’t meant to bother him, she said, but if he ever felt like going somewhere, or if he needed a ride, anything, he