Doppelgangster - Laura Resnick [39]
“You’re being naive,” Lopez said.
I again tried to think of what to say. Lucky wanted to find Charlie’s killer before the cops did so he could whack him. Of course Lopez would oppose my helping with that, and I agreed with him. I hadn’t initially intended to help. But Chubby Charlie had seen his perfect double before dying and had talked about a curse. No one could figure out how the murder had been committed, and Max had a theory about a doppelgänger. So I suspected this crime might be something that a smart cop like Lopez just wasn’t equipped to solve.
It was the sort of situation I would have thought was insane before getting to know Max and the nature of his work. And I had a fair idea of how insane it would sound to Lopez if I tried to explain it. So I just stared at him in silence, wondering what to say.
“I want to take you into protective custody,” he said firmly, putting his hand over mine. “I’m afraid your life is in danger.”
“From Lucky?” I shook my head.
“More likely from the Corvinos.” He added, “But it’s not as if the Gambellos appreciate witnesses, even in a case where the victim is one of their own.”
I thought about it. If Max was right about the doppelgänger, I doubted the cops were equipped to protect me. And if Max was indeed right, then the assassin, whether a Corvino mobster or someone else, was no ordinary hoodlum who’d whack me on nervous impulse, as Lucky had initially implied and as Lopez obviously feared.
So I said, “If I agreed I was in potential danger—”
“Esther . . .” He looked impatient, realizing I intended to refuse.
“—I’d go along with this. But . . .”
The strange logistics of the homicide made me suspect Max was right.
And if Max was wrong, well, I hadn’t seen anything revelatory last night—but I had seen enough movies to suspect protective custody would be unpleasant and not even all that protective.
“I don’t think it’s the best thing for me,” I said.
“Esther, you’re—”
“I’ll reserve the right to change my mind.” Just in case Lopez was right. “How’s that?”
“Not good enough,” he said.
“But it’s the only answer I’m going to give you,” I said. “At least for now. So let’s not keep arguing about it.”
He looked like he really wanted to argue, but he evidently realized it wouldn’t accomplish anything. So he said, “All right. I’ll let it go for now. But you keep your cell phone with you at all times, and you keep my number on speed dial. Promise me.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “That’s a good plan. I promise.” When he didn’t say anything else, just sat there looking glum, I asked, “So that’s the talk? I mean, it’s what you came here to say?”
“Huh? Oh. No. Not entirely.”
I sighed. “Well?”
“I want to go over everything you saw last night. Until I figure out what the missing piece is.”
I groaned as I folded my arms on the table and rested my head on them.
“We need to do this,” he said, sounding tired again. “Right now, you’re suspected of obstruction, at the very least. And my captain would ream me a new one just for coming here to talk to you alone, never mind sleeping with you.”
“We didn’t do any—”
“It doesn’t matter. I can’t be involved with someone who’s a suspect in an open investigation.”
That statement certainly had a sobering effect. We’d been in this situation before. During his investigation of Golly Gee and the other disappearees.
“Then why did you even come here this morning?” I grumbled.
“Because I don’t want this thing to go bad for you.” After a moment, he added, “Or for us—you and me, I mean.”
With my head still on my arms, I waited for him to continue.
He said, “Napoli wants to get a material witness warrant for you.”
“What?” I sat up. “Why? All he has to do is ask me to come in again. I haven’t refused to answer his questions.”
“He says you did. He says you refused to keep talking last night and you walked out.”
“Well, of course I did! At the time, I mean. It was late, I was tired, and he was just saying the same idiotic, accusatory crap over and over!”
“That’s what cops do. We wear you down