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“She also told Dad he couldn’t crash at her place after his acting classes on Tuesday and Thursday nights. She just wanted her independence, but I think it hurt his feelings.”
Emma’s sister had given me some insights, but that wasn’t why I’d wandered into the music room. I said, “How are you doing through this whole thing?”
She shrugged again. It made me wonder if all teenagers were trained to shrug in exactly the same way. She said, “I guess I’m doing okay. My parents aren’t quite right. Especially my dad. He never missed one of Emma’s school concerts.”
I wanted to leave this girl on a positive note. I said, “Can you play me something I wouldn’t expect?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know—I wouldn’t expect it.”
A smile slipped across her face. She turned back to the piano and started playing a haunting melody that wasn’t quite classical music. The deep chords resonated inside the room. I could feel the performance suck me in. It was phenomenal.
She wrapped up the song after about two minutes. She looked at me and said, “That was ‘Solace’ by Scott Joplin, but I played a version that was arranged by Marvin Hamlisch.”
I almost couldn’t speak. I felt like this young woman had opened a new musical door for me.
I heard Terri finishing up with Dr. Schrade. I waved to Lauren and she gave me a genuine smile.
Chapter13
AFTER I DROVETerri back to her car, I decided to pay a visit to an informant who’d helped me break some of the biggest cases of my career. He was a little high maintenance to use too often—not so bad that I had to pull all the green M&M’s out of a bowl, more like having to deal with an unending stream of minor bullshit, such as his asking to get out of parking tickets or hoping I’d arrest one of his rivals.
I had to balance the value of his information against the cost.
About six years ago he’d legally changed his name from Ronald Higdon to Ronald Higdon, Esquire. He spelled out the Esquire. It wasn’t illegal, unless he was caught claiming to be an attorney, or acting as someone’s attorney. Anyone who knew him recognized it was just another scam.
About the time he changed his name, he also helped me make an arrest in a nasty drug homicide on the Upper West Side. Two bodies in an alley with no ID. The homicide investigation was stalled. After a day of stumbling around with no progress, I called Ronald. He came up with the victims’ names in less than two hours. The next day, he had the shooter’s name for me. In return, he asked to have his criminal record erased. That didn’t happen. Thatcouldn’thappen. So he’d settled for getting off probation early. Believe me, it was a good trade.
Ronald ran his uncle’s pawnshop on West 127th Street, a couple of blocks from the famous Apollo Theater. Higdon’s Pawn and Jewelry had been in the same spot nearly sixteen years. I was certain that Ronald fenced stolen property through the pawnshop, but it was more of a gut feeling than real information. And frankly, for the kind of help he’d given me in the past, I was prepared to overlook the assumption.
I knocked on the shop’s front door and waited for Ronald to buzz me in. The place was roomy for a New York pawnshop. Clean, but not fancy. The concrete floor was painted with thick gray paint. The shelves, holding assorted electronics and collectibles, didn’t match. The shop didn’t have nearly as much inventory as other pawnshops I’d seen, which reinforced my belief that Ronald was using the place for things other than short-term loans on people’s personal belongings.
The lean man behind the counter gave me a smile. A gold tooth twinkled in the light. He was about my age and had seen some tough times. I have never asked him about the scars on his face or the bullet wound on his wrist. That is sort of the way a relationship with an informant works: you don’t get to know them too well and don’t ask too many questions.
Ronald came from behind the counter and shook my hand. He wasn’t quite as tall as my six feet three inches. Maybe six foot one. But he was sturdy. And he had a strong grip.
“What brings the city’s best homicide detective to my humble shop today?”
I smiled. He used a good narrator’s voice with precise enunciation. There weren’t many informants with a delivery like that and a college education to back it up. Ronald had bragged about how he worked hard at having no discernible accent. I knew it had more to do with tricking people on the phone than any sort of interest in self-improvement.
I gave him a rough overview of the two homicide victims. I was careful not to give him any details he might use for other reasons. You never want an informant to create a suspect from the facts provided. He even made a few notes as he nodded.
“I’ll start making calls right away. I got more and more people around the city. What are you interested in me asking about?”
“Anything unusual. Anyone who might hang with a younger crowd. Or, if we’re lucky, someone’s talking. Maybe a street person saw something. You know the drill—anything that might help.”
“This isn’t my usual kind of thing. I don’t mix with a crowd that talks much about college girls. But I’ll see what I can do.”
“And what will your help cost the city, or me?”
The way the smile slid over his face, I knew he had an answer ready.
Ronald said, “I’m in a little bit of a bind. There’s a lady down in SoHo who claims I told her I was an attorney. She said she listened to my advice on a minor civil matter. Now she’s being sued for two million dollars and is blaming me. A Detective Matthews in the First Precinct says what I did is criminal and he’s not done with me. Could you have a talk with the good detective?”
“Let’s see if you make any progress first.” I was about to tell him I’d make a phone call to the detective to see where he was on the case. Instead, I was startled by someone rattling the door violently.
I heard Ronald mumble, “Goddamn, not now.” He hit the buzzer to avoid his door being shattered.
