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  ‘I shouldn’t be telling you this, Ray, but it was red, white and blue.’

  ‘The American flag? That’s kind of a common tattoo, I’d think.’

  ‘Not when it’s shaped like a swastika.’

  ‘That’s what the kid said? It was a swastika?’

  ‘Turns out our knucklehead paid some attention in school.’

  ‘Man.’

  ‘And there’s another thing.’

  Uncle Ray could be such a tease. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘The bags your boy Gator was holding were labeled. Specially tagged.’

  Holy shit. I thought about letting him tell me, but decided to take a shot at either impressing him, confusing him, or pissing him the hell off. Maybe I’d hit the trifecta.

  ‘Don’t tell me,’ I said. ‘Double-Eights. Dice’

  Two beats of silence. ‘How the fuck did you know that?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that right now. It would get certain people in trouble.’

  ‘Certain people you live with, Ray?’

  ‘I’m pleading the Fifth on this one, Chief. For the moment.’

  I could tell by his silence the shade of red his face was turning. ‘You’re not gonna get a lot more of these moments, Nephew.’

  ‘Thanks, Uncle Ray.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, but not in a nice way. And just when I thought he was going to chew me out some more, he added, ‘You know it’s never too late, Ray.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For you to return to the fold, Boyo. You know you want to. I can hear that now more than ever.’

  I did not expect this discussion again. ‘I really don’t, Uncle Ray. Despite what you may think, I feel those of us teachers who take what we do seriously make your job that much easier. We wanna get to these kids before you do.’

  ‘Ahhh, I know you do, Raymond. I’m just putting it out there. Again.’

  ‘And that’s why I love you, Uncle Ray.’ I looked at my watch. ‘I gotta go. Thanks again and I’ll see you at Easter.’

  ‘Don’t forget the Scotch. And after this conversation, it just aged two years.’

  ‘Wouldn’t dream of anything less.’

  I couldn’t keep from thinking about White Nationalist Duke Lansing, sixteen-year-old Harlan S. from Allison’s series, and now a drug courier with a red, white, and blue swastika on his hand. And Double-Eights.

  Ask any good cop and they’ll tell you they don’t believe in coincidences. Uncle Ray was right about one thing. In that respect, I was like most cops.

  During the last period, my cell phone rang. It was Richie Hebner.

  ‘I found your translucent, drug-dealing white-ass scumbag,’ were the first words out of his mouth.

  ‘That was quick.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I guess there’s not too many guys who look like that slinging heroin on the mean streets of Canarsie.’

  ‘I would imagine not. I assume you got a name?’

  ‘Albert Biancotto. Which clearly gave rise to his professional name,’ Richie said. ‘Al Bino.’

  ‘You are shitting me,’ I said, remembering that’s what Hex had called him the other night outside the dice game.

  ‘I shit you not. I ran him through the system and – quite to my surprise – the guy’s got no record. Drugs, possession, jaywalking. Nada. He doesn’t even have a traffic ticket, probably because Albert Biancotto doesn’t own a car, at least not one registered in his name. Nor does he seem to have a permanent address.’

  ‘Is he really an albino?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Richie said. ‘But my guy who knows him says he’s whiter than professional hockey.’

  ‘So,’ I said, ‘with no record, how does your guy know Biancotto?’

  ‘Al spends just about all his time on the streets talking with young men who do have records for dealing. If guilt by association were a real crime, this guy would be doing hard time upstate. And the guys he associates with, they are not what you would call discriminating dealers, Ray.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘They deal whatever the flavor of the month is. Crack, weed, Ritalin. Right now, the drug of choice, as you know, is opioids, and heroin for those who can’t scrape together the cash for opioids.’

  No surprise there. ‘Did you find out anything about the double-eights?’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ he said. ‘You’re gonna love this.’ Meaning I was not going to love this. ‘Tell me, Mr Donne, what’s the eighth letter of the alphabet?’

  I did that real quick. ‘H.’

  ‘Right. Now double that.’

  ‘Two H.’

  ‘Or HH.’

  That was not the same mathematically – two H is two times H whereas HH is H times H – but I didn’t want to teach a math lesson here. ‘OK,’ I said. ‘HH. So what?’

  ‘Whatta you know about the White Nationalist movement? Or neo-Nazis?’

  ‘A bit more than I did a week ago before MoJo was killed. Why?’

  ‘HH, Ray. Heil Hitler. Half the white boys in the movement’s got that tattooed somewhere on their lily-white supremacist bodies. This guy, Biancotto, puts it – very discreetly for a drug-dealing racist, I might add – on the bags of whatever it is he’s not getting caught selling.’

  He let that sink in for a bit. ‘I take it you never heard of the CCC?’

  I ran that through my brain. ‘The Civilian Conservation Corp? It was part of The New Deal back in the thirties that put unmarried guys to work out west. What does that have to do with this?’

  ‘Absolutely squat, Ray,’ Richie said. ‘Nowadays, here in the Borough of Kings, it stands for the Canarsie Christian Crusade.’

  ‘Jesus. Tell me that’s not what it sounds like.’

  ‘If it sounds like the KKK, then I can’t do that. And I’ll give you three guesses who’s an active member of the council, and the first two don’t count.’

  ‘Al Biancotto.’

  ‘Ding ding ding.’

  Shit, I thought. Does everything about MoJo’s murder involve White Nationalists?

  ‘Now,’ Richie said, ‘there’s an ugly rumor out there about the CCC.’

  ‘Uglier than being White Supremacists.’

  ‘Oh, yeah. It’s only a rumor, but talk is they got someone in their group who puts heroin out there on the streets that’s not always pure heroin. It’s mixed with fentanyl.’

  ‘On purpose?’ I said. ‘Why would they do that? They’re killing off their base.’

  ‘They’re not putting it out for their base, they’re putting it out for other dealers’ bases. Bases of a certain shade, if you get my drift.’

  I thought on that. ‘They’re putting fentanyl into the bags of heroin sold to non-white users in the hopes they’ll OD?’

  ‘You catch on as quickly as Billy said you would. That’s some evil shit right there, huh?’

  ‘Evil’s not the word. That’s old-time Nazi.’

  Richie let out one of the most humorless chuckles I’d ever heard. ‘That’s a good way to say it, Ray. A real good way.’

  ‘So,’ I said, ‘no address for this guy?’

  ‘Not a residence, no. But I do know where he spends most of his indoor time when he’s not on the streets supervising. Some kind of computer shop in Canarsie. You got a paper and pencil?’

  More than I could count. ‘Shoot.’

  ‘It’s at the end of the subway line. It’s called The Last Stopp for Lap Topss. You’re gonna love this clever part. The Stopp’s got two Ps and Laptopss got two Ss. What’s that? A palindrome?’

  ‘Almost an anagram,’ I said. ‘One more t than there should be.’ I agreed that it was clever. For a neo-Nazi. I also asked if he had any more info for me.

  ‘No,’ Richie said. ‘No more info, but I do have some good advice for you.’

  ‘What’s that?’ I asked, knowing the answer already.

  ‘Stay away from this guy, Ray. Billy told me how much you like to play PI. This Biancotto’s the real deal. The fact that we got nothing on
him proves that.’

  ‘I’m not planning on paying him a visit, Richie.’

  ‘Billy told me you’d say that. But if you decide to – and again, I’m saying please don’t – do me a favor.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Bring some backup. You’re gonna need it.’

  I considered that. ‘Thanks, Richie. For the info and advice.’

  ‘Use them both with caution, Ray.’

  ‘Will do. And, hey, you should swing by The LineUp some Wednesday night. I work the sticks once a week. Beers are on me.’

  ‘I might just do that. I’m a big fan of the barter system. See ya later, Ray.’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  Backup?

  I’m a schoolteacher. A dean. Where the hell was I going to get backup if I made the unlikely and inadvisable decision to take the L train out to Canarsie and have a talk with Albert Biancotto?

  Oh, right.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  After all the distractions of the past week, it felt good to be at my desk with the kids dismissed, the teachers gone, and just the cleaners and me in the building. I took the opportunity to finish up some paperwork, send some emails, fax some forms to the mother ship in downtown Brooklyn, and throw some crap out that had been building up in the office over the past few weeks. I felt a little like I was back in college, putting off studying for a test.

  At five o’clock, Allison called. ‘Been real busy, Ray. Had my meeting with Royce, then the Here and Now staff got together for lunch, my mom called and we ended up on the phone for almost two hours. I had to hang up because my phone died. At least that’s what I told her. She still doesn’t know I can talk while charging my phone.’

  ‘Everything OK with your folks?’ Phone calls between Allison and her family in Missouri were often, but brief. Two hours would add up to a month of calls.

  ‘My dad fell and broke his pelvis,’ she said. ‘He’s gonna need surgery and lots of rehab. I might head out next week and spend some time with them.’

  ‘Sorry about that,’ I said, knowing the older Allison’s folks got, the more she missed them. Dad’s broken pelvis or not, she’d be looking forward to the time back home.

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Still at my desk,’ I said. ‘How was your talk with Royce?’

  ‘He was not pleased that I had taken some photos during my trip the other day, but I told him about the Roman numerals. He found that interesting enough that he allowed me to ride over to the new crime scene with him. It’s not his case, but he wanted to check it out.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘We didn’t find anything connecting the other murders to last night’s.’ A pause, then, ‘Not at first.’

  I waited. ‘You teasing me again?’

  ‘Royce called the detective-in-charge of the new case and told him about the Roman numerals. On closer inspection of the murder weapon – the fucking spear – there were three vertical lines on the staff, connected by two horizontal lines.’

  ‘Roman numeral three.’ Then I told her Henderson’s serial killer theory. ‘Pretty hard to wrap my mind around.’

  ‘I had a math teacher back in middle school who used to tell us “Two does not make a pattern. But when there’s three …”’

  ‘I said the same thing to my kids when I was in the classroom. They taught us something very much like that in the academy, too.’

  ‘Royce said something else, too. Unlike MoJo, the other two victims were killed somewhere else and their bodies were moved to where they were found.’

  ‘To make sure they were found,’ I said.

  ‘That’s what Royce and the other detective are going on.’

  I told her about what my uncle had confirmed about the bags of heroin Gator had been caught holding.

  She was silent for a bit. ‘This is getting weird, Ray.’

  ‘Ya think?’ Then I said, ‘Where are you now?’

  ‘Waiting on the G train to take me home to my live-in boyfriend.’

  ‘Very cool. I’ll be back by seven and pick up something for dinner then.’

  ‘I could use that,’ she said. ‘And maybe another shower.’

  ‘Feeling dirty?’ I said, trying my best to sound flirtatious. I really just needed some healthy skin-to-skin contact.

  ‘In more ways than one, tough guy.’

  I called it quits around six and headed out of the building. Standing against a very nice blue car were Dennis McLain and – what was his name? – RV, from Newer Leaves.

  They both stood up straight when they saw me. McLain spoke first.

  ‘Mr Donne. We were told you were still inside.’

  ‘By whom?’

  ‘A Ms Josephine Levine. Seems she puts in late hours, too.’

  ‘Giving the taxpayers their money’s worth.’ I shook both of their hands. McLain was wearing a blue suit the exact color of his car. ‘What brings you down to Brooklyn? Or back down, I should say.’

  ‘Fundraiser,’ McLain said. ‘I think I tapped the well up north about as dry as it’s gonna get, so I have some old friends throwing me an event down here.’

  I turned to RV. ‘Hey, man. How’s it going?’ His outfit was a black jacket and pants. The work boots I’d seen the other day had been replaced by a pair of dress shoes.

  He looked nervous. ‘Good. I guess. I don’t like the city that much.’

  ‘A little too different from your neck of the woods?’

  ‘Something like that,’ he said. ‘Yeah.’ A truck went by and startled him.

  ‘If I knew you were having an event,’ I said to McLain, ‘I might’ve dropped by, but I have other plans.’

  ‘Just as well,’ he said. ‘It’s more of a private dinner. A club I used to belong to in Ozone Park. Kind of a church thing.’

  ‘Yeah. My dad used to belong to Knights of Columbus on the Island.’

  ‘Then you know what I mean.’

  ‘What brings you by the school?’

  ‘Actually,’ he said, ‘I’m here to see you.’

  ‘Really?’ Maybe he did want some of my money.

  ‘Yes. I don’t mean to sound crude, but we have another client up at Newer Leaves who’s ready for placement and …’

  ‘Since a spot just opened here, you figured you’d ask?’

  ‘Is that horrible?’

  ‘Not at all,’ I said. ‘But it’s too late in the year to get that ball rolling. Means a lot of forms, background checks, all that fun stuff.’

  He laughed. A paperwork joke between the guys. ‘The fall then?’

  ‘Almost definitely. I think MoJo would like that, Denny.’

  ‘Speaking of whom.’ McLain took me by the elbow. ‘Excuse us, RV.’ We walked closer to the school and he lowered his voice. ‘Did Maurice by any chance mention anything to you about Newer Leaves?’

  ‘Lots. Can you be more specific?’

  We took a few more steps. RV looked more uncomfortable the farther we got from him. ‘There have been some rumors among the men. About drugs finding their way into the house.’

  I shook my head. ‘MoJo said nothing to me about that.’

  ‘Are you sure, Ray? All it takes is a few rumors in the wrong ears for a place like Newer Leaves to get some unwanted attention.’

  ‘From whom?’

  ‘Let’s just say there are some … special interests up in my district who’d like to see Newer Leaves somewhere else. You’ve heard of NIMBY?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘Not In My Backyard.’ I also heard him say ‘my district.’

  ‘There’s been some talk at the town halls. Some vo— folks – are afraid of the type of people Newer Leaves brings in. You noticed the racial makeup the other day.’

  ‘I was impressed with the racial makeup.’

  ‘Not everyone thinks like you and I do, Ray,’ he said. ‘The demographics up there still skew mostly white. A lot of people want to keep it that way.’ He patted my shoulder. ‘But I’m glad Maurice didn’t say anything to you. I know h
e trusted you.’

  ‘Sorry I couldn’t help.’

  ‘But you did.’ We walked back over to RV. McLain shook my hand again. ‘Thanks again, Ray. We’ll talk about the fall.’

  ‘Yes.’ I shook RV’s hand. ‘Are you a member of this club, RV?’

  He didn’t understand the question at first. When he did, he said, ‘Oh, no. I just drive Mr McLain sometimes.’ I guessed that RV must have been the associate who drove Price and McLain down to Maurice’s benefit the other night.

  McLain patted RV on the back, signaling him to get behind the wheel. ‘Let’s talk soon, Mr Donne.’

  I held the door for him. ‘Let’s do that.’ I shut the door and they drove away.

  By the time I got home, Allison already had the table set. I had picked up some baked ziti and a salad; she’d picked up some wine. We opted for the wine first, put on some Sinatra and ended up in the shower before eating. After we dried off, we hit the futon, ate our pasta, and fell asleep, happy and fed, with Frank in the background.

  TWENTY-SIX

  ‘You want a ride to work?’ Allison asked. ‘I have the company car today.’

  ‘Sure, great.’ I was just tying my sneakers. ‘Anything special on your plate?’

  ‘I’ve got some interviews in different parts of the city; I asked for the car and no one had anything else, so it’s mine for the day.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ve had a ride to school since high school,’ I said.

  ‘Just don’t develop any mommy issues.’

  ‘After last night, not a chance.’ I grabbed my backpack.

  ‘I would hope not,’ she said. ‘Now get a move on. You don’t want to be late.’

  ‘How’d your talk with the FBI go?’ Ron Thomas asked as I left the lunchroom.

  I had forgotten about that particular lie. ‘Good,’ I said. ‘Agent Henderson has some smart ideas about raising awareness and a possible career talk with the kids.’

  ‘That’s a great idea, Ray. We should do a whole career day here.’

  ‘Maybe we can put something together for the eighth grade after one of the graduation rehearsals.’

  ‘Now you’re thinking like an administrator.’ I let that slide. ‘Make some phone calls and let me know what you come up with. Good thinking, Ray.’