Saints Of New York (62 page)

'Caitlin,
we just don't know what happened,' Radick said, and in that moment everyone
present understood that there was something deeper here than a cop and his
partner's daughter.

Clare
Baxter turned back to look at Jimmy Radick. Valderas frowned, Marie Griffin,
too - almost unnoticeably. Eve glanced at Robert, Robert looked at Caitlin,
then at the man beside her, and they all understood that these people weren't
strangers. No-one said anything; there was nothing that needed to be said.

'Whatever happened/
Valderas said, 'it happened because he believed he was doing the right thing.'

Clare Baxter
made a sound. It was dismissive, perhaps, even condescending.
I
lived with the man, that sound said. I lived with him, I carried his children
... so don't you come here and tell me what to think about someone that you
don't even know.

'Shut up, Mom,'
Robert said. 'Just shut the fuck
up.'

Caitlin's eyes
were wide. 'Robert!'

'And you can
shut the fuck up too,' he snapped. 'You don't know him. Jesus, none of you do.'

Clare Baxter,
her face like a deflated balloon, walked slowly to the chairs on the other side
of the room and sat down.

The silence was
oppressive, uncomfortable, electric.

'I know him,'
Eve said, and with those three words she not only broke that silence but
everyone in the room turned and looked at her with a quizzical expression. 'I
know him, as well as anyone else I know, that's for sure.' She paused, then she
smiled, and then seemed to laugh to herself as if remembering some
half-forgotten moment. 'Last time I saw him he spent three hours trying to talk
some kid out of killing his girlfriend. He gave it his best but the kid killed
the girl anyway . . . killed the girl and then killed himself.' Eve looked up.
She looked at each of them in turn. She returned her gaze to some indefinite
space in the middle of the room, and she smiled pensively. 'They were in a
bathtub. The boy had already cut the girl's leg, in her thigh, you know? She
was bleeding very badly. Then he cut her throat and then he cut his own throat,
and Frank spent however long trying to wrestle the kids out of a bathtub full
of blood to save their lives. But he didn't do it. He tried his best but he
didn't do it.'

'Frank is a good
cop,' Valderas interjected. 'He has his issues, he has his difficulties, but
he's one of the best.'

'Like his
father,' Radick said.

Valderas smiled
knowingly.

'What?' Caitlin
asked.

'Nothing,'
Valderas replied.

'No, tell me,'
she said. 'Tell me what made you smile.'

'It was just the
old crew that Frank's father used to belong to. They were called the Saints of
New York. They were the ones who helped get organized crime out of New York. No
question about it, Frank came from good stock.'

Marie
Griffin opened her mouth to say something, and then she closed it. She wanted
to say something, wanted to tell them about Lufthansa, about the unsolved
deaths of Joe Manri and Robert McMahon, about what Frank Parrish really felt
about his father, but she could not.

'He's
a good detective,' Jimmy Radick said. 'I mean, we've only worked together for -
what? - nearly three weeks, but I've learned a hell of a lot—'

'Does
Frank know you're sleeping with his daughter?'

Radick
looked up at Clare Baxter.

'Mom!
Jesus Christ, what the fuck is your problem?'

Clare
Baxter was angry. Her eyes flashed as she looked at Valderas. is that even
allowed in the New York Police Department?'

'Mrs
Baxter, it's none of our business. We don't regulate the personal lives of
officers, except where the law is being broken—'

Radick
was speechless. What was it with this woman? Did she just hate Frank? Did she
hate her kids? Was she jealous, perhaps afraid of something? He made a mental
note that if Frank came through this he would congratulate him for divorcing
the crazy bitch.

'Yes,
Mom, it's none of your business,' Caitlin said. 'We're talking about Dad here,
not you. Be content just for one second not to be the center of attention,
okay?'

Valderas
glanced at Marie Griffin. She didn't even raise an eyebrow, she didn't need to.
Everything that needed to be said was there in her eyes. The whole fucking
family was nuts. No wonder Frank Parrish had a hard time at work.

'And
who the hell are you?' Clare Baxter said, turning on Eve.

Eve
smiled. 'I'm Eve,' she said. 'Eve Challoner. I'm a very, very expensive escort,
but Frank comes over to see me every once in a while and gets it for free.'

Clare
Baxter sat open-mouthed and incredulous. Robert laughed. Valderas smiled.
No-one spoke for at least a minute.

Clare
Baxter made a performance of hunting through her purse for cigarettes. She
found them, and then flounced out of the room like a petulant child.

'Jesus,' Robert
said. He turned to Eve. 'I'm sorry about that,' he said. He looked at Valderas,
at Griffin, at Radick. 'She's stressed, man, seriously stressed. I don't know
what the fuck is going on with her, but she is worse than usual.'

They all nodded.
No-one spoke. It was understood.

'Is there
anything else you can tell us about what happened?' Caitlin asked. Her question
was directed at Valderas.

Valderas shook
his head. 'Like I said, I know very little about what actually happened. I'm
waiting for more info, and as soon as I get it I'll tell you.'

'So is he really
good at his job?' Caitlin asked. 'Is he really a good detective, or are you
just saying that because we're here and he might die?'

'Cait—' Robert
started.

'No, Robert, I
want the truth. I want to hear the truth from someone who knows him
professionally. You've known him a long time, right?'

'Sure have,'
Valderas said. 'I knew him before he became a detective.'

'So?'

'So what?'

'So is he good?'

'One of the
best,' Valderas replied.

'So what the
fuck is it with the driver's license and the suspended pay? What the hell did
he do?'

Valderas shook
his head. 'Frank isn't one for rules and regulations,' he said. 'Never has
been. Frank is old-school. He gets frustrated with the system, as we all do,
but he gets more frustrated than most. You get cases where you know the truth,
but there is nothing you can do about it. Charges get dropped, guilty people
make plea bargains with the DA's Office, cases fall apart on technicalities,
criminals go free to do the same thing all over again. He struggles with it,
and every once in a while he does something out of line and he gets reined in.
It is not an easy job, let me tell you, and I feel the frustration and
disillusionment these guys experience. Unfortunately, the system is the system,
and however much we complain about it it's all we have until something better
comes along.'

'Is
he going to lose his job now?' Robert asked. 'Did he do something wrong?'

'I
don't know, Robert, I really don't.'

'This
is a tough thing to come back from,' Caitlin said.

'He's
dealt with tougher than this,' Valderas replied.

'Michael
Vale,' Eve said. 'He dealt with Michael Vale.'

Antony
Valderas turned slowly and looked at the woman. There were tears in her eyes.
Her mascara was smudged.

'Yes,'
Valderas said. 'He dealt with Michael Vale.'

'He
never told me what happened,' Caitlin said.

'He
didn't tell me either,' Robert added.

'I
know what happened,' Eve said.

Valderas
nodded. 'So do I.'

Caitlin
and Robert looked at one another. 'So?' they said, almost as one.

'You
want to hear what happened when Michael Vale was killed?'

'Sure,'
Caitlin said.

'Abso-fucking-lutely,'
Robert added.

Valderas
looked at Eve Challoner. 'You wanna tell them?' he asked.

'Let's
both tell them,' she replied.

'You are a fucking loser. Jesus,
Mike, what the fuck is this?'

I Frank Parrish held up a
polystyrene cup of coffee, and from a small hole in the base a continuous
stream of liquid dribbled into the bin beside his desk.

'High quality utensils, ably
provided by the New York Police Department. You want another one, go get it
yourself.'

Parrish did so, returning in a
moment with a new cup.

'So what's the news today?' he
asked Vale.

'We go back and check on that
thing from yesterday, the girl from the Heights, and then we spend the rest of
today and tomorrow looking busy. I have a weekend away planned, and I want to
get out early. Last thing I need right now is another case starting up.'

'Where you going?'

'Upstate,'
Vale replied. 'Last time Nancy and I had a weekend away was like . . . Jesus,
it must be three years ago.'

'You
had that wedding. Who was that - your nephew or someone?'

'Someone
else's wedding doesn't fucking count. You have to go on up there and be on your
best fucking behavior. I hate that shit. Anyways, it's been too fucking long, I
know that much, and she's stir crazy. I get something that stops me going she's
gonna go find a lawyer and take
him
away for the
weekend.'

Parrish
laughed, he drank his coffee, and he didn't even hesitate when the phone rang
on his desk.