“With gusto,” I say. “Same as with the flower lady, if you ask me.”
“Mucho gusto,”Carlos Quintero says.
“Have it your way.”
“You hear anything, you call me,” he says.
“Yes sir!” I say, snapping off a salute.
“Okay, now beat it,” he says.
Half an hour later, Jimmy and Esposito and I are tearing through cheeseburgers as good as they’ve always been at Fellingham’s. It’s a lot like Jimmy’s bar, a neighborhood place that has survived what I call the fancification of the Hamptons, and one I’m certain would survive a nuclear attack.
One more time it’s Jane and the boys. With me happily being one of the guys.
“I want to remind you,” Jimmy says, “not that you need reminding, that it’s not our responsibility to tie Sonny to Reese’s murder.” He nods at Esposito. “It’s his.”
“And I want to remindyou,” Danny Esposito says, “that my role in this is to be a team player with the various branches of the local police. Because, as I’m sure you both know, there’s noiin team.”
“But there is one in Esposito,” I point out.
“You sure it’s only one?” Jimmy says.
“Nice to know that your new buddy, Mr. Blum, is still a stone-cold killer,” I say, “whoever he had get this done. And about the guy alerting the cops? What’s next, live streaming when somebody else who didn’t pay is getting capped?”
“Capped,” Esposito says to Jimmy. “She keeps trying to convince me how much of a cop she was.”
“If Sonny’s going out, he’s going out in style,” Jimmy says. “But I gotta say, I still don’t see him as being the one who had the Carsons done.”
For a change I’m cleaning my plate, not just the burger but the fries. And for this one night, the cold draught beer is going down fine, too.
“I actually never saw him on that either,” I say. “For whatever reason, Sonny treats Rob Jacobson like there’s some kind of force field around him. So I can’t think of a single reason why he’d go out of his way to set him up on a triple homicide, then wait this long for the evidence to finally come into play.”
“So why are you so fixed on making Sonny part of this trial?” Esposito asks.
“Because I need somebody,” I say.
“Somebody?” Esposito says.
“Somebody else who could have done it. Or had it done. If Sonny is still killing people who don’t pay their debts, he could have killed Hank Carson for not paying. And then things got out of hand.”
Esposito grins. “So if I have this straight, you want to frame Sonny Blum for something you really don’t think he did, the way somebody framed Rob Jacobson for something you sayhedidn’t do.”
“Pretty much.”
“Cool,” Esposito says. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out with me?”
“Yes.”
He shrugs. “I just feel as if I have to circle back on that from time to time.”
“But Blum told me Carson paid,” Jimmy says.
“Yes, he did,” I say. “And if he’s lying about that, well, golly, it’s probably the first time that old dirtbag has ever lied about anything ever.”
I push my plate, with most of my fries gone and only a quarter of my burger still on it, toward Jimmy now.
“This looks like some kind of half-assed bribe,” he says.
