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  ‘I’ll call you,’ he says to me. That’s the way it has to be for now. Harlan has no phone of his own and there’s no other way to reach him. He’s not even sure where he’ll sleep tomorrow night.

  Harlan S. lives in the now. He has to; it’s all he has left.

  ‘Wow,’ I said when I was done. ‘That is really good stuff, Allie.’ I paused to take a sip of my coffee. ‘I mean like Jimmy Breslin/Pete Hamill good.’ Part of me knew I was kissing her ass a bit, comparing her to two of the best investigative reporters to ever write for New York City papers, but I meant it. I skimmed through it again. ‘I see why you were so surprised the other night when you saw Duke Lansing on Edgar’s computer. You think Harlan is connected to Lansing?’

  ‘Harlan’s never come right out and said so. I’ll push around the edges of it the next time we speak. I’ll obviously find a way to work it into the series. But I don’t want to scare Harlan off by asking more than he’s ready to tell me. He’s just a kid. A scared kid.’

  I gave that some thought. ‘You know I usually don’t believe in coincidences.’

  ‘It’s not as coincidental as you think, Ray.’ She paused. ‘The other night when I saw that video with MoJo and Lansing, I wasn’t as surprised as I let on.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  She looked like a kid who’d just been caught lying. She tapped the computer screen. ‘MoJo put me in touch with Harlan. Now that part of the story is weird.’

  ‘I’ve got nothing but time,’ I said, trying to hide the fact that I was unhappy that she’d kept this from me. I took a final bite of my bagel and another sip of coffee. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘You remember that part of the video MoJo took with Lansing when Lansing said something along the lines of MoJo was going to have to leave the same way he came in?’

  ‘You spoke with MoJo about what he was doing?’

  ‘I did. And he made me promise not to tell anyone. Especially you and Edgar. He did not want you two involved.’ She waited for me to say something. When I didn’t she continued. ‘The part about how MoJo should come and go?’

  ‘I wasn’t sure what that meant.’

  ‘MoJo told me it was like something out of a bad spy film. He was instructed to drive upstate to a service station and wait for one of Lansing’s people to pick him up.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘When MoJo got picked up – each time at a different service station – they blindfolded him so he couldn’t see where they were going. And where they were going was Lansing’s secret compound.’

  ‘That does sound like a bad movie.’ It also sounded like something Allison was going to have to tell Detective Royce. Holding back stuff from me was one thing; not telling the detective-in-charge was quite another.

  ‘Anyway,’ Allison continued. ‘MoJo had been there a few times because he was doing business with Lansing. He told MoJo that his group, The New White Man, had been receiving lots of threats lately. Texts and emails to their website mostly, some from other ultra-right-wing groups. You’d think there’d be enough hate and fear to go around, right? Lansing really did feel the need to upgrade his security.’

  ‘Why MoJo though? How did Lansing know about him?’

  ‘MoJo didn’t tell me that. He said it was better off I didn’t know.’

  ‘Any idea why he was so secretive?’ I said, and then realized the obvious.

  ‘He was playing it safe. For both of us. This is a White Nationalist, remember.’

  ‘And how did he run into this guy in your piece? Harlan?’

  ‘That’s even weirder. Long story short, Harlan somehow hid himself in the trunk of the car that shuttled MoJo back and forth between the service station and the compound. The kid’s pretty slick. He was able to get into and out of the trunk without being seen. Like if Houdini were in the KKK.’

  I let out some air that sounded like a laugh. It wasn’t. ‘And this kid just calls you up when he feels like talking?’

  ‘Friday was the first time he called. MoJo told me he’d given Harlan my info, but that was it. MoJo knew Harlan had a story to tell. No promises, no guarantee that he’d call. We’re supposed to meet again later this week. That’s not a sure thing either.’

  ‘You think he’s gonna be OK out there by himself?’

  ‘Harlan was raised pretty much to be a survivalist, Ray. That’s a big skill when you’re a White Nationalist. I’m not sure whether he’s staying in the city or whatever, but between the shelters and Dumpster diving, I hate to say it, but he’s going to be fine.’

  The thought of any kid having to live like that in this city put a burn in my gut. The richest city in the world and we’ve got a sub-demographic who live off other people’s garbage. I know the movies make it seem romantic sometimes, but it’s anything but. I’ve heard that New York City throws away almost forty percent of the food it has, enough to feed some small countries.

  ‘I know it’s not in your piece,’ I said, ‘but do you think he knows anything about MoJo’s murder? Did he say anything?’

  ‘If he does, he’s playing it real close to the vest,’ she said. ‘I’ve thought about that, though. But he’s been in hiding for over a week and concentrating mostly on staying underground and alive. Again, I’ll try to work the conversation around to it.’

  My mind started working the way certain people keep complaining that my mind works. ‘There might be a chance that someone from Lansing’s group made the connection between MoJo and Harlan and came looking this way.’

  Allison thought about that. ‘That makes some kind of sense, but then why kill MoJo? If he’s the link to Harlan, they just got rid of him.’

  She had a point there. ‘I’m still not comfortable believing that MoJo was willing to work for someone like Duke Lansing. We weren’t best friends, but I knew him pretty well; MoJo didn’t strike me as the kind of guy to do something just for the money. Even with a kid on the way.’

  ‘You have any other ideas that might explain what we saw on the recording?’

  ‘No, I don’t.’ And now the tough part. ‘Royce needs to know about this, you know that, right?’ She already knew I was planning to call Royce about MoJo’s recording of Lansing.

  ‘Know about what part of this, Ray? I’m not going to risk scaring Harlan away. He’s frightened enough right now. The last thing he needs is the cops on his ass.’

  ‘I know that. But you agree Royce needs to know MoJo was involved with Duke Lansing. I think that includes your boy Harlan.’

  ‘Then he’s going to want to talk with Harlan. I’m not sure about that.’

  ‘It’s not your decision, Allie.’

  ‘I’m not saying it is, but is sure as hell isn’t yours,’ she said. ‘It’s not even Royce’s. You read the piece, Ray. This kid is all over the place. He may be a survivalist, but he’s frightened. If he doesn’t want to be found, trust me, he’s not going to be found.’

  Goddamn it. ‘So I have to call Royce and tell him about MoJo and Lansing while not telling him about this kid Harlan who may be connected to MoJo’s murder?’

  Allison leaned back on the futon and closed her eyes. ‘That’s what I need you to do, Ray. Think you can control yourself?’

  I stood up. ‘Don’t do that, Allie. We’ve had this talk before. I have information Royce needs. You have information Royce needs. The information is almost certainly connected. If it helps Royce find out who killed MoJo, I think he should know about it.’

  ‘And,’ she said, eyes still closed, ‘if it ends up scaring Harlan away – or worse – what then? You willing to make that call? Literally?’

  I’m not proud of the next word out of my mouth, but if I had held it in I think I might have imploded. ‘Fuck!’

  That got her to open her eyes. ‘Real mature, Ray. Is that how you teach your students to handle conflict? Pick the first four-letter word that comes to mind and scream it loud enough for the neighbors to hear?’

  Like I said, I wasn’t proud of myself. I took a few deep bre
aths and picked my phone off the coffee table and walked to the kitchen.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Allison asked.

  ‘To the balcony,’ I answered in the calmest tone I could muster. ‘I need to call Detective Royce.’

  ‘Be careful what you say, Ray.’

  I looked at her and pointed my index finger at her. ‘Don’t,’ I said. Again, I’m not real proud of that. My conflict resolution training said to never point your finger in anger. I headed out to the balcony and pressed the number for Royce.

  ‘You have got to be kidding me, Mr Donne,’ he said. ‘I’m just getting out of my car and heading into church.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have called if it weren’t important.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘You wouldn’t have called if you didn’t think it was important. I’ve learned there’s a big difference when it comes to you.’

  I breathed. Deeply. I decided to come right out with it. Just like I teach the students to at school.

  ‘Maurice Joseph was somehow involved with Duke Lansing.’

  That was met with ten seconds of silence. Then, ‘You are talking about the Duke Lansing, I assume?’

  ‘Is there another one?’

  A few more beats passed. ‘And would you please explain what you mean by “somehow involved”?’

  I told him about the recording we had found on MoJo’s phone. I did not mention MoJo putting Allison in touch with Harlan. Yet.

  ‘So,’ Royce said, ‘if I’m hearing you right, Mr Joseph was doing some work for Duke Lansing and Lansing had no idea that Mr Joseph was recording him.’

  ‘You heard me correctly, Detective.’

  ‘And you found this out when?’

  ‘Yesterday,’ I said.

  ‘After I interviewed Edgar Martinez who also didn’t know about this until yesterday even though they were partners?’

  ‘You know what I know.’

  ‘That’s not a comforting thought, Mr Donne.’ I heard a car door shut. Maybe slam was more like it. ‘Where is this recording now?’

  ‘I have it with me. It was making Edgar uncomfortable, so he gave it to me. We want you to have it.’

  ‘How nice of you both.’ I could hear him thinking. ‘OK, let me explain what is going to happen. You’re at home with the recording?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You are to stay there with the recording, Mr Donne. You got that?’

  ‘Got it.’

  ‘I will be going to church with my family, then a quick brunch and I will be at your place by two o’clock. I assume you’re still at the same address?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Good.’ He waited a bit before saying, ‘Do you pray, Mr Donne?’

  ‘No, Detective. I do not.’

  Just before hanging up, he said, ‘You might wanna start.’

  NINE

  I slipped my phone into my pocket, leaned on the edge of the balcony, and took in the city skyline in the late morning sun. It was promising to be another nice spring day. Like the man said, days like this made me think people who didn’t live in New York City were just kidding themselves. Maybe Allison and I could walk over to the Williamsburg flea market after Royce came. That’s if we were still speaking. Allison and I, that is.

  ‘What did Royce say?’

  Allison was holding a coffee cup and had one foot on the balcony and the other inside, almost as if my answer would be the determining factor in whether she joined me outside.

  ‘He’s coming by around two to pick up the Lansing recording. He also suggested I might want to try praying.’

  ‘Right after the Pope develops a taste for Brooklyn Pilsner,’ she said with a smile. Then she got serious. ‘Did you mention Harlan?’

  ‘You know I didn’t, Allie. I wouldn’t do that until we spoke more about it.’

  ‘Then let’s do that.’

  I looked at the woman I loved. I looked up at the clear blue Brooklyn sky. ‘How about we table that for now? Let me give the stuff to Royce and take my licks. You and I can enjoy today and talk about Harlan later.’

  ‘And you’ll be able to enjoy the day without settling the Harlan thing?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t I?’

  ‘Because when something is running laps in the gray area of your brain,’ she said, ‘you tend to get real distracted. Some of my girlfriends might say morose.’

  I looked at her and waited for a smile. None came. ‘Good thing you’re not one of your girlfriends, huh?’

  ‘Good thing.’ She stepped out onto the balcony. ‘We make for weird bedfellows, Raymond. None of my other friends have this … issue with their partners.’

  ‘Issue?’ I repeated. ‘Is that what this is? An issue?’

  ‘None are in relationships where they have to tiptoe around when they’re talking about their jobs. None of them are with … someone like you.’

  Another deep breath. ‘And what am I like?’

  ‘You know the answer to that, Ray. You may be a schoolteacher now, but you’re still a cop inside,’ she said. ‘You always want to do the right thing – what you think is the right thing – and have trouble hearing the other side.’ She came two steps closer and touched my elbow. ‘Remember how my parents reacted when they heard I was … with a school teacher?’

  ‘They were thrilled you had a partner with a steady job and health insurance.’

  ‘They don’t see this side of the relationship.’ She did that thing where she went back and forth with her index finger: me, her, me, her. ‘They don’t realize that you do police work for a hobby.’

  ‘You know, though,’ I said. ‘You know that I can’t ignore stuff that comes my way if I can do something about it. And it’s not like I seek this shit out, Allie.’

  ‘I did and I know,’ she admitted. ‘I didn’t know it was going to be this frequent. I met you when Frankie Rivas’ father was killed and Frankie and his sister went missing. Then there was Dougie Lee getting murdered. After we started dating it was Ricky Torres, and I almost lost you in that shooting.’ She paused to sniffle. ‘Then you find Marty Stover after he got killed at his own party. Now this.’ She came close and hugged me. ‘It’s not that I don’t appreciate your help with my career, Raymond.’ She let out a small giggle. ‘But I think I’m beginning to feel like the spouse of a cop. I never know what’s going to happen when you leave for work.’

  Holding onto the hug, I said, ‘This coming from the journalist who trespassed onto a White Nationalist’s property five years ago and is currently starting a series of clandestine interviews with a runaway who – according to him – is in danger of being killed by the people he ran away from.’

  I could feel her smiling on my chest. ‘We do make an interesting couple, don’t we,’ she said.

  ‘“Interesting” is an interesting word for the kind of couple we make, Allison.’

  ‘Good thing we found each other, huh?’

  ‘More than a good thing,’ I said, squeezing her tighter.

  We stayed like that for maybe another minute: two people hugging each other in silence as the world of Brooklyn did whatever it does on beautiful Sunday mornings. The silence was broken when Allison said, ‘So, you won’t tell Royce about Harlan?’

  ‘Shut up,’ I said.

  ‘OK.’

  Almost to the second when one-fifty-nine turned into two o’clock, my phone went off. It was Royce. ‘Hey,’ I said.

  ‘I’m downstairs. Buzz me up.’

  ‘Why didn’t you just—’ He’d already hung up. When I opened my door to let him in, I finished my question. ‘Why didn’t you just buzz up, Detective.’

  ‘I was afraid,’ he said as he stepped into my apartment, ‘that my annoyed tone wouldn’t translate so well through the intercom.’

  As he passed me, I told him he had nothing to worry about there.

  ‘The recording?’ he said.

  I stepped over to the coffee table just as Allison was stepping out of the bedroom. She had changed from her breakfast clothes into
a more Sunday-morning-going-for-a-stroll outfit: shorts, a Word bookstore T-shirt, and sneakers.

  ‘Good mor–good afternoon, Detective Royce,’ she said. ‘Like some coffee?’

  ‘I just ate, Ms Rogers. But thanks.’ He turned to check out the impressive view from our kitchen. ‘Nice piece on your website,’ he said. ‘You were kind enough to get my good side.’

  ‘Wow,’ Allison said. ‘I didn’t know you read my work.’

  ‘I don’t,’ he said as he turned back to us. ‘My daughter has this weird hobby of googling my name once a week. This one was quite the surprise. You open yourself up to charges of interfering with an ongoing investigation with stunts like that, Ms Rogers.’

  ‘Not until they pass some laws concerning new technology and air space. As far as I know, I broke no laws by shooting that video, Detective.’

  A sound came out of his mouth that was halfway between anger and exasperation. One of the words rhymed with truck.

  ‘Here’s the recording,’ I said, holding out the phone case. Royce gave it a weird look until I explained what it was.

  ‘Fucking technology.’ The word came out clearly when he wanted it to. He held up the case. ‘Who else knows about this, Mr Donne?’ He said it to me, but looked straight at Allison.

  ‘Just Edgar, Allison, and I,’ I said. ‘And now you.’

  ‘I’m not going to see or hear about it – or from it – on any online news sites?’

  Allison spoke before I could. ‘No, Detective. You won’t.’

  ‘Because,’ he said, ‘that would be real close to breaking a law, Ms Rogers. Publicly releasing evidence in an ongoing investigation is up to the police, not the press. The First Amendment protects you only so far. Even on the web.’

  ‘I understand that.’

  ‘Good.’ Back to me. ‘Just so I have this clear, Mr Donne. As far as you know’ – he held up the recording – ‘this went from Mr Joseph, to his wife, to Mr Martinez, to you, and then to me.’

  ‘As far as I know, yes.’ He was rightly concerned about the chain of evidence if the recording were ever entered into evidence in a court of law. ‘Ms Rogers did see it as well, but she was never in possession of it.’