Doppelgangster - Laura Resnick [15]
I hadn’t liked him, but I certainly hadn’t wanted to watch him die.
“There, there, sweetie.” Stella patted my back.
I stared with dazed eyes at Charlie’s corpse, which still lay on the floor. A police photographer was taking pictures of everything, while a veritable army of Crime Scene Unit personnel moved purposefully around the restaurant, gathering evidence. A young patrolman with an awkward expression on his face was watching over me, and two detectives were standing nearby, talking into their cell phones.
“Can’t I leave now?” I said plaintively to the patrolman.
“Just a minute, ma’am.” He went over to speak to the detectives.
I had given my statement to this patrolman, then to another patrolman, and then to the two detectives. Now I just wanted to go home, pull the covers over my head, and try to forget what I had seen.
Above all, I wanted to get out of the restaurant and away from Charlie’s staring corpse.
“I feel like he’s looking at me,” I said to Stella. “I should have listened to him! He said he was marked for death!”
“Of course he was, honey,” said Stella. “He was a Gambello capo. Living to a ripe old age ain’t a standard part of their benefits package.”
The patrolman returned to my side. “I’m sorry, ma’am, you’re going to have to give another statement.”
“Another?” I said, fighting tears of exhaustion, revulsion, and guilt.
Stella stepped in. “What’s the matter with you people? Can’t you see she’s had enough?” she bellowed.
“Er, Detective?” the patrolman said anxiously, backing away from Stella.
One of the detectives glanced out the restaurant window and said to the patrolman, “OCCB just arrived. They’ve got to talk to her.”
The young patrolman said to me, “Sorry, ma’am.”
“Don’t call me that,” I snapped.
“Yes, ma’am. Er, sorry . . .”
Two more cops entered the restaurant. I jumped to my feet as soon as I recognized one of them.
“Esther,” Lopez said, his features creased with concern. “Jesus, I was hoping you weren’t here when it happened.”
I went straight into his arms and clung to him.
“You’re the witness?” he said against my hair.
I nodded.
“Shit.” His arms tightened around me.
“Hey, sweetie!” Stella said jovially. “This must be the guy, huh? The cop everyone’s been talking about?”
I didn’t answer. I just burrowed. Lopez felt wonderful. Strong and safe. I wanted to stay in his arms the rest of the night.
But not in the same room with Charlie’s dead body.
“Can we please go outside?” I mumbled against Lopez’s jacket. “I can’t look at Charlie anymore.”
“Sure,” he said. “Come on.” With one arm still around me, he turned so that I wouldn’t see Charlie again as we made our exit.
The cop who had come in with him said, “This is our witness?”
“Yeah,” Lopez replied. “I know her.”
“So I gathered,” was the dry response.
“Esther, this is Detective Peter Napoli,” Lopez said. “He’s going to be lead investigator on this case.”
“Uh-huh,” I said.
Lopez told Napoli, “I’ll get her statement.”
“I’ll get it,” said Napoli.
Lopez nodded but didn’t loosen his hold on me. I was relieved he wasn’t just going to abandon me to Napoli. If I had to repeat again what it was like to watch Charlie Chiccante die, I’d at least like a comforting face to look at while I did it. And, as I glanced at Napoli, I didn’t think he looked at all comforting. A pale, brown-eyed man who was mostly bald, he had a sardonic, suspicious expression.
As soon as we got outside, where it was nighttime by now, a familiar voice called, “Esther! Are you okay, kid?”
I looked around. “Lucky?”
Bright lights blinked briefly in my face. I was confused for a moment, until I realized it was flash photography. I held a hand up to shade my eyes and squinted. I saw two photographers in the crowd. Not cops. Media. Taking pictures of me.
“Miss Diamond!” one of them shouted. “Hey, over here, Esther!”
“Great, they know your name already,” Lopez muttered.
I ducked my head, suddenly depressed. I dreamed of being photographed as a successful actress at the Tony Awards,