Page 83 of Fifty-Fifty

A limo sat in the middle of West 46th, its motor running. A garbage truck pulled up behind the limo and the driver stood on the horn. The garbage truck couldn’t get past. The limo didn’t move. I opened the rear door of the limo. The crew from the garbage truck got out of the cab, and some came around from the

rear and began shouting at the limo to move. They were big men. Five of them.

With a job to do. And they didn’t appreciate being delayed by a limo.

‘Move your ass, pretty boy!’ they cried.

Jimmy got out of the car, turned to the men and asked, ‘Do we have a problem here?’

Everyone knew Jimmy the Hat. If not in person, they knew him by reputation.

The men threw up their arms, instantly, and backed away, apologizing profusely.

‘I’m real sorry, sir. We’ll reverse back up the street, don’t worry about it. We didn’t mean no offense.’

Jimmy was a hand grenade. I got into the limo and sat opposite him. He wore black pants, polished handmade Italian shoes, a white button-down shirt open at the neck, and his grandfather’s cap, of course. I hadn’t seen him without that cap since he took over the Fellini crime family. Nowadays, Jimmy’s business was ninety-nine percent legit. He owned a lot of property, had a big slice of legitimate and profitable private businesses, and he had a direct line to the New York planning office. Any developer in Manhattan who wanted a permit could spend two years buried up to their ass in paperwork, or they could call Jimmy.

For a fee, they could start building within the month.

He reached over and we embraced. He slapped my back as he released me, in the way of hard men who express their affection with slaps and kisses on both cheeks that kind of hurt but meant well. I didn’t know a kiss could cause me physical pain until I befriended Jimmy.

‘You look terrible. Are you eating?’ he asked.

‘I don’t have much of an appetite these days.’

‘I’m sorry to hear about your girlfriend. I’ve asked the mayor’s office to keep me informed.’

‘She wasn’t my … we were close.’

Silence filled the leather interior of the limo. Jimmy nodded, wet his lips.

‘Like I said, the mayor’s office will let me know if the cops find a suspect,’ he said. Jimmy was practical – if someone hurt a friend, or God forbid a member of his family, Jimmy would ensure that justice was served. He had been a longtime

associate of Frank Avellino, and Jimmy still had friends in the mayor’s office it seemed. If Jimmy wanted information on any murder case in the city, he could

get it in a heartbeat.

‘Was she working any dangerous cases? Anyone have a grudge against her?’

I shook my head.

‘Far as I know the only case she was working was mine – the Avellino trial.

She put some bad people away when she was a fed. I think the cops did a full check on her previous cases – making sure no one with a reason to kill Harper

had recently been released from federal prison. They got zip.’

‘It looked like a professional job,’ said Jimmy. ‘You don’t take somebody out like that in their own house and disappear. At least it was quick, Eddie.’

‘She died instantly. That’s what the cops told me. I don’t know. Did you get what I asked for?’

Jimmy glanced to his left and the brown envelope that sat beside him.

‘Cops say you were there that night,’ said Jimmy.

‘Yeah, but I don’t remember much about it. She’d already been taken away by the time I got there. I pushed my way into the hall, found her necklace lying on the floor and I just knew she was dead. I took the necklace. I just couldn’t leave it lying there.’

At that moment, I felt the need to touch my neck. I wore a Saint Christopher’s medal on a chain, for good luck. I’d kept Harper’s necklace, got the links mended, and wore it alongside my own. It felt good to let something of ours be