Doppelgangster - Laura Resnick [59]
“Oh!” Max relaxed. “I see.” He smiled. “My dear fellow, clearly I should leave this in your hands. I apologize!”
My caller was Lopez. I flipped open my phone. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me. I’m sorry about last night.”
Lucky whispered to me, “Should I suggest the bookstore?”
“For what?” I said.
Lopez said, “Uh, for canceling our date.”
I covered the phone for a moment so he wouldn’t hear me speaking to Lucky again.
Lucky said, “For the sit-down. Do we want to meet here?”
I shook my head. I was disinclined to hold a Mafia sit-down in the place where Max lived and worked.
“Esther?” Lopez said, sounding puzzled. “Are you okay?”
I removed my hand from the receiver and assured Lopez, “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. You really don’t need to worry so much about me.” Then I said to Lucky, “How about Bella Stella? It’s closed and empty.”
“Oh, please, don’t you start on me, too,” said Lopez. “Stella Butera is bad enough.”
“What?” I said absently into the phone.
Lucky shook his head. “No way will the Corvinos come to Stella’s. It’s Gambello turf.”
Lopez said, “Stella’s lawyer is claiming restraint of trade and . . . oh, a bunch of other stuff. I can’t keep his jabbering straight after two minutes. And it turns out Stella’s got friends in high places. So it looks like we’re going to have to let her reopen the restaurant soon.”
Lucky said, “Danny’s suggesting St. Monica’s.”
“That’s good,” I said with a nod to Lucky.
“Not it’s not good.” Lopez sounded irritable. “Look, I know you like Stella, and I know you want to start earning again—even though I really want you to find a safer job—but it’s a crime scene, Esther. A crime where we can’t even figure out how the crime was committed! So we might need to go over the scene again. But it looks like that’s just too damn bad, and Stella will get her way.”
Lucky said to me and Max, “Okay, we’re on. The sit-down is set for St. Monica’s. Tonight at eight o’clock.”
“Meanwhile,” Lopez continued wearily, “the Shy Don’s lawyer—who, by remarkable coincidence, is the same lawyer representing Stella—is pressuring us to release the bodies of Chubby Charlie and Johnny Be Good, so that the family can hold their funerals.”
“So release the bodies,” I said absently.
Lucky and Max looked at me. I waved a dismissive hand at them.
“It’s a murder investigation, Esther,” Lopez said. “And we’re not scheduling our work around the Gambellos’ social calendar!”
“Sore subject?” I guessed.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Lopez sighed. “Anyhow, until we sort out the discrepancies between the physical evidence and various witness statements, releasing the bodies to be embalmed isn’t our favorite choice.”
“I know there are discrepancies,” I said. “But I told you exactly what I saw. I told Napoli. I told you both. Over and over.”
“I didn’t mean you,” Lopez said soothingly. “Well, not just you.”
“Oh?”
Nearby, I heard Lucky making the exchange of insults with Danny that signaled they were preparing to say good-bye and get off the phone.
Lopez said to me, “We’ve got witnesses who say they talked to Johnny Gambello hours after the medical examiner says he was already dead.”
“So there’s confusion about when Johnny Be Good died?” I asked, a little loudly. When Lucky and Max looked at me again, I nodded.
“We’re going to have to reinterview everyone we’ve talked to,” Lopez said, sounding tired.
I prudently decided not to mention that I was one of the people who’d spoken with Johnny after he was dead.
Deciding it was time to change the subject, I said to him, “Never mind dead wiseguys. How are you? You’ve been working ridiculous hours. You haven’t even had a day off since coming back from Long Island!”
“Oh, I’m fine. Actually, that’s why I called,” he said in a lighter tone. “They finally noticed my overtime and ordered me to take a couple of days off. Are you free tonight?”
“Tonight?”
“Yeah.”