Page 102 of Witness 8

‘Oh, and I need one more thing. Ask Jimmy if he can set up a meeting with Buchanan. It’s time I met New York’s Finest.’

‘A meeting? Jimmy don’t fuckin’ meet no cops.’

Denise had been listening, and gave Tony the eye – he was swearing.

‘Not for him. For me.’

‘You’re going to have a fuckin’ sit down with a bunch of crooked cops who are trying to kill you?’

‘Do you have any better ideas on how to end this?’

‘Sure, fuckin’ kill ’em all.’

‘Tony, watch your mouth,’ said Denise.

Tony held up a hand by way of apology.

‘I can’t take on a whole crew. Not without more people getting killed. I’m not going to ask Jimmy to start a war for me. Just ask him to set it up. I’ll go on my own. I want to be in a room with Buchanan. Tell Jimmy I want to make them an offer.’

Tony started laughing, said, ‘You got some fuckin’ balls on you, kid.’

Denise tossed her head in frustration.

‘I need time to think. I’m going for a long walk to West 74thStreet,’ I said.

‘Eddie, just be careful,’ said Denise.

‘I have to finish this. I’m sick of being careful. It’s time I started being smart.’

45

Eddie

Manhattan is life.

Walking these streets is like plugging your brain directly into humanity itself. Some people think that this city is defined by its great buildings that reach for the sky, the sheer volcanic opulence of Times Square at night, the grandiose romance of Central Park or the enormous scale and wonder of the Brooklyn Bridge.

It is none of those things.

Manhattan is made by the people who pound its sidewalks, by the cab drivers who battle through its traffic, by the sounds and spirit of those who pour beer, sell newspapers, flip burgers, buy and sell the world, count the money and the people who protect them all.

In Manhattan, it’s hard to see starlight. The people make this city burn too brightly.

Clarence and I made our way through the park, headed west. The summer sun was beginning to warm the sidewalks and the cars and the people. And all the while my brain boiled with questions. Especially after I’d taken the call from Bloch. She’d gone home for an hour to shower. There had been no movement from Ellis or Bale last night.

‘You said last night that Brett Bale told you he wasn’t targeting the Jacksons,’ said Bloch.

‘That’s right,’ I said.

‘And you believed him?’

‘Yeah. Do you think I got it wrong?’

‘No, I think you got it right. I think he’s interested in the nanny – Ruby Johnson. I didn’t know who she was until last night. She was the girl who watched Lake and me in the Blakemore house. She saw me outside the Jacksons’ last night. There’s something about her . . .’

‘What do you mean?’

Bloch sighed, said, ‘I’m no good with people. But I know how to think. And I know how to fight. When I see Ruby, I make fists. My jaw clamps down. And I can’t take my eyes off her. Same thing happens when I see a spider. Or a snake. I don’t know why it happens. It just happens. That’s the best way I can explain it.’