Doppelgangster Part 35

Good answer.

Looking again at the mess surrounding us, Lopez asked, "What is is all this c.r.a.p?" all this c.r.a.p?"

"It's ephemeral matter," Lucky said. "Makes a h.e.l.luva mess, don't it?"

"What's it doing here?"

"It came with the mook," Lucky said.

Lopez stared at him. "Did the mook say why why he had a load of feathers, dirt, and pebbles with him?" he had a load of feathers, dirt, and pebbles with him?"

"He didn't happen to say why," Lucky said. "Fortunately, it's over now and everyone is fine. It's good thing me and Nelli came back from our walk when we did."

"Nelli?" Lopez looked down at the dog. She paused in her olfactory examination of him to meet his gaze. After a moment, she wagged her tail hesitantly. "Max's new roommate, I take it?"

"Yeah."

"And why are there two swords and an ax on the table?"

"They're antiques," Lucky said. "Max was showin' us his collection."

Lopez studied the objects. I had a feeling he was looking for blood. My gaze went involuntarily to the blade which had beheaded his perfect double tonight. Fortunately, the weapons were so old, they really did look like collector's items. It occurred to me they were probably valuable.

"All right," Lopez said, "I'll need a statement from each of you-except Nelli-and a description of the guy who came in here."

"We didn't get a good look at him," Lucky said.

Lopez looked at Lucky, who looked at Max, who looked at me.

I said, "Um . . ."

There was a long, extremely uncomfortable moment of silence.

Lopez sighed and said, "Everyone who isn't Esther, take a walk."

Lucky bristled. "You got a warrant?"

"I don't need a warrant to talk to her." Lopez glanced at him. "And I'm sure I can come up with a reason for probable cause if I decide to search you right now for an unlicensed gun."

"Max, let's take a walk." Lucky clipped Nelli's leash back onto her collar.

"Er . . ." Max looked doubtful.

"It's all right." I squeezed Max's arm rea.s.suringly. We knew from Nelli's reaction that this was the real Detective Lopez. "Take Nelli for a walk."

Already halfway to the door with Nelli, Lucky added, "And bring some plastic bags, for the love of G.o.d. What do you feed this dog, anyhow?"

"Don't say 'dog.' " Max stumbled after them.

As soon as the doorbells chimed to hail their departure, I said to Lopez, "Have you seen your own perfect double?"

That caught him flat-footed. "Huh?"

"Have you seen anyone who looks just like you?"

He frowned. "You mean . . . ever? ever?"

"No, I mean quite recently. Today. Maybe yesterday?"

"No," he said. "Now what the he-"

"Think hard," I said. "It might be someone who you think just looks a little little like you." like you."

"What are you talking about?" he said impatiently.

"We tend to think we look like the image we see in the mirror. But that's a reflection, so what we're seeing is actually in reverse. Actors have to know what others see when they look at us, but many people are surprised by their own appearance in photos and don't really know what they look like."

"Fascinating," he said. "Now let's talk about-"

"So have you seen anyone who looks even a little bit like you? Same height and build? Same age and coloring?"

"Probably dozens of people," he said. "So what?"

"He was wearing the same clothes you're wearing now," I said. "Blue jeans, pale shirt, denim jacket . . ."

"He? Who are we talking about?" Who are we talking about?"

I froze as I realized what I had just said. "The same clothes . . ." Both versions of Charlie were wearing the same suit on the night that Lucky and I saw his doppelgangster at Bella Stella's. And Lopez's doppelgangster had been wearing what the real Lopez was wearing tonight.

"He who who, Esther?"

Did this information mean anything?

"What was Johnny Gambello wearing when he was pulled out of the East River?" I asked.

"What?" Lopez was confused by the sudden change of topic.

"Was it a red shirt and white leisure suit with silver trim?"

Frowning at me, he shook his head. "No."

So was I on the wrong track? No, not necessarily. Johnny had gone home and talked to his wife after seeing his doppelgangster. So maybe he changed his clothes sometime after he was duplicated and before he died.

So maybe . . . "Yes!" I said, grasping it.

"Yes, what?" Lopez prodded.

Maybe the clothing the doppelgangsters wore could help us pinpoint when when they had been created! they had been created!

"I have to tell Max," I said, heading for the door.

Lopez grabbed my arm. His grip was hard. "Tell him what? No, wait, never mind. Whatever you think you have to tell Max, you and I have things we need to talk about first."

"You're right." My thoughts were scattered. I was still in shock from seeing him beheaded. I had to pull myself together. Focusing on the single most important thing we needed to discuss, I said, "You're in danger."

"Yeah, of getting suspended." He released my arm.

I looked at him in surprise. "Because of the note that I gave Danny?"

"The one with your phone number? And Max's land line? Yeah, I found it near the body."

I gazed at him in confusion. How could he and his double both both have found it? have found it?

He continued, "At the time, I was . . . upset."

"Upset," I repeated faintly.

He rubbed a hand over his face, looking tired. "But you know, it's been such a h.e.l.l of a day since then, I kind of forgot about it."

"What?" I didn't understand. The doppelgangster had been furious.

With a weary, resigned expression, he reached into his pocket and pulled out . . .

"Photos?" I said.

"Surveillance photos." His voice was flat, tired, a little cold. "We look at most of them digitally. These are just a few that I printed out for myself tonight. Call me sentimental."

They were four-by-six color prints with a matte finish. He laid them out slowly on the table for me to look at, one by one.

The photos had all been taken at night on a city street. The composition wasn't good, and neither was the lighting. There was a dark car outside what looked like the entrance to a church, a couple of men, a gumata gumata with big hair and shiny clothes that were a little too small for . . . with big hair and shiny clothes that were a little too small for . . .

"Oh, my, G.o.d!" I blurted. "I didn't realize how that blouse gapped when I moved."

Even with the bad lighting, you could see a glimpse of my bra in one of the shots. I looked up at Lopez to explain that I'd put together that costume on short notice.

Our eyes met, and I realized that probably wasn't important just now.

I gasped as another thought occurred to me.

"You've got me under surveillance?" I demanded.

"No," he said with forced patience. "We've got capos in the major crime families under surveillance, Esther."

"Oh. Right." And I was so naive, this hadn't occurred to me when I met with Danny "the Doctor" Dapezzo in Little Italy last night. "Of course."

He put another photo on the table. It showed me handing a small piece of paper to Danny. The next photo Lopez laid down was a shot of me, Max, and Nelli leaving St. Monica's together last night.

Lopez said, "What in the name G.o.d did you think you were doing?"

"Napoli's going to want to question me again, isn't he?" I said in resignation.

"No, he thinks these are pictures of Danny's daughter."

"What?"

Lopez shrugged. "There's definitely a resemblance. Well, when you're dressed like that, I mean." After a moment he added, "She hasn't got your cheekbones. And your shape's a little different. But since it was dark and the pictures aren't that good, Napoli didn't notice."

"But you did." Of course.

"I look at you a lot more than he does."

"You have to tell him," I said quietly.

"No, I don't think so."

I shook my head. "I don't want to be the cause of you doing something you think is wrong."

"Too late now," he muttered.

"You can still fix this."

"Well, I know this will sound unconvincing if I wind up having to explain it later to someone, so I hope I don't . . . but we're already wasting time on one dead end, thanks to the Falcone kid's story, and I don't think we should waste any time on another."

"So it was was Angelo who claimed credit for the hit?" Angelo who claimed credit for the hit?"

"Yeah. And, like I figured, it's all over the news now. You haven't seen it?" When I shook my head, he continued, "Something like this makes it harder for the DA to prosecute a case after the cops find and arrest the real killer. So we can't afford not not to treat Angelo seriously, even though he's full of s.h.i.t. We have to take him apart so well that he can't be used to help a slick defense lawyer create reasonable doubt with a jury." to treat Angelo seriously, even though he's full of s.h.i.t. We have to take him apart so well that he can't be used to help a slick defense lawyer create reasonable doubt with a jury."

"Take him apart?"

"Prove he didn't kill Danny," Lopez said. "And prove he had his reasons-however dumb, warped, and shortsighted-for lying and saying that he did."

"I see."

"And that takes time. So I don't want to waste any more time or stretch the team any thinner by giving Napoli a crazy old bookseller and well-meaning actress to chew on."

"Oh."

"Did you have anything to do with killing Danny Dapezzo?"

"No!" Caught off guard, I was startled and indignant.

"But you knew him?" His voice was clipped.

"Briefly."

"How briefly?" briefly?"

"I met him the night before he died." I added in surprise, "Last night, I mean." It already seemed like a long time ago. night, I mean." It already seemed like a long time ago.