“Yes. Of course,” Maude said. “What’ll be next exactly?”
“My first priority is getting Zach out of Rikers on bail. And that’s really about some legal technicalities at the moment. After that, assuming Zach is charged with murder, we’ll start factfinding, talking to witnesses. We might need your help with that.”
“Yes, definitely. Would it be okay if I also checked back in to get an update? Under the circumstances, the party—I guess we feel responsible, in a way. Especially, with Case … Do you have a card?”
“Of course,” I said, digging for one. But there weren’t any in my bag. I’d been so distracted after finding the earring that I’d left them—and God knows what else important—at home. “I don’t have one on me. You can reach me on my cell, the number I called you from.” But from the way Maude was looking at me, she wanted something more than just that. Maybe she didn’t believe I was who I claimed to be. “I can text you my other contact information if you want?”
“That would be great,” Maude said.
I scrolled through my contacts to the appropriately vague“New Office” one I’d created right before I started at Young & Crane, and sent the firm address and my direct line.
“You can check in with me anytime,” I said, though Maude seemed so relieved to have my contact information, I wished I hadn’t given it to her. I moved toward the door. “Thank you for your time.”
It was nearly four o’clock when I stopped in front of a deli at the corner of Seventh Avenue and Flatbush near the entrance to the Q train. I quickly scanned the newspaper racks for theNew York Postor theDaily News,the perennial bellwethers for the city’s most tawdry news. A group of rich Park Slope parents, a sex party, and one gorgeous dead mother was a tabloid trifecta. Sooner or later “Key Party Killing” or “Park Slope Perverts” would surely be emblazoned across their covers. But today they were dedicated to a corruption scandal at the MTA, something about hundreds of thousands of dollars in overtime paid to a single driver.
I felt light-headed suddenly. The heat, the sleep deprivation, the emotional drain of the night before. I also hadn’t eaten all day. I rested a hand on the doorway as I made my way into the deli.
After a minute of aimless browsing, I approached the counter with a Diet Coke, a pack of M&M’s, Mike and Ikes, and Twizzlers.
“I hope you won’t eat this all today,” the friendly man behind the counter said, shaking his head gravely. “So much sugar is no good.”
“Of course not,” I said, though I planned on doing just that the second I hit the sidewalk.
He was getting my change when I noticed a box of matchbooks next to the register.Enid’s.I pulled one out, my heart picking up speed.
“Where did you get these?” I asked.
Here was an alternate theory for the case against Sam. Maybe he hadn’t been off drinking during the day yesterday, after all. This particular deli was more than twenty blocks from our fourth-floor walk-up, and Sam wasn’t much for Center Slope—too many bankers and five-dollar lattes—so I didn’t think he’d gotten the matches therespecifically. But if that deli had them, maybe others did, too. And if I was wrong about him drinking at Enid’s, maybe I was jumping to the wrong conclusion about the earring, too. Maybe he was being a Good Samaritan after all? Maybe it had even gotten accidentally dropped into his bag. Why hadn’t this totally plausible explanation occurred to me before? After all, New York City was a crowded place. Who knew how many other possibilities I was not considering?
“Get what?” The man eyed me over the top of his reading glasses.
“These matches,” I said, gripping a pack. “This place is in Greenpoint, isn’t it?”
“Closed down. Twenty years it was in business.” He shook his head in disgust. “Now the cigarette distributor gives them out for free.”
Grand Jury Testimony
DETECTIVE ROBERT MENDEZ,
called as a witness the 7th of July and was examined and testified as follows:
EXAMINATION
BY MS. WALLACE:
Q: Good morning, Detective Mendez.
A: Morning.
Q: Were you at 597 Montgomery Place on the night of July 2nd?
A: Yes.
Q: What did you do after you arrived at the scene?
A: I approached Mr. Grayson and asked him to step outside with me in order to give the crime scene unit detectives room to work. I also thought Mr. Grayson would be more comfortable that way. Generally, it’s best to have family members away from a scene like that.
Q: And by a “scene like that,” what do you mean?
