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Fifteen
JIMMY CUNNIFF IS STANDINGwith Kevin Ahearn, end of the dock, Montauk Marine Basin. I see the chief of police from East Hampton, Larry Calabrese, with them. In the water next to them is a trawler with “Nick O’ Time” written on the bow in a fancy Old English font.
Nick Morelli’s boat.
I know it’s his, or used to be his, because Jimmy told me.
“Blood inside the cabin” is Jimmy’s greeting to me. “And on the deck. Not a lot. But enough.”
“How much is enough?”
“It’s like thatjudge said about porn that time,” Jimmy says. “You know it when you see it.”
Jimmy likes to get to it. He thinks small talk is for people who need more to do.
“Jane,” Larry Calabrese says to me.
“Chief.”
A good guy. Good cop. I like him a lot.
Ahearn just nods.
“A perfect shitstorm,” Calabrese says.
“What are the odds?” Ahearn says, squinting out at the water. “My star witness.”
“Your star witness until I got to cross-examine him,” I say.
“Well, counselor. Good luck with that now.”
“A disappearing witness could set you up to ask for a mistrial—we both know that.”
“Not happening.”
“Just wanted to raise the subject.”
“You plan to raise it with the judge?”
“Nope.”
“Then at least we agree on something.”
Ahearn somehow looks out of place here, out of court, in a short-sleeved polo and jeans and even boat shoes.
“And by the way?” Ahearn says to me. “It’s like I told you in court. Morelli had more testimony to give, none of it good for you.” He points at Morelli’s boat now and adds, “Good fortune has goddamn smiled on the defendant in the nick of time.”
“Good one,” Jimmy says.
“We’re not in court, Kevin. You can use his name here.”
“Piss off, Jane. You know what I think? I think your guy knew it was only going to get worse for him on Monday and maybe had the money to do something about it.”
“Killhim?”
Ahearn shrugs. “What’s one more?”
“Thanks for sharing, Kevin.”
