I had the taxi drop Roland off, then take me over 410 St. Nicholas Avenue. The front door was open. The lock had been jimmied. I went inside and had to walk around a drunk sleeping in the lobby. I went upstairs, anticipating the look on Beth’s face when she saw me. She didn’t disappoint me.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“We need to talk.”
“Well, come back tomorrow.”
“It can’t wait.” I pushed past her.
“You can’t bust in on a person like this.” She slammed the door and turned to me. “I never did like you.”
“That’s too bad, ‘cause I sure liked you.”
Her mouth dropped open, but nothing came out. She didn’t know how to answer.
“Beth, I need the truth.”
“About what?”
“About you … and Eric and what happened to Esther.”
She was wary. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Beth, it’s over. This is your chance to save yourself.”
“Go away.”
“Don’t make me do this the hard way. I don’t want to call the cops on you. Not yet.”
She swallowed. “I got nothing to say to you.”
“All right. Let’s try it this way. Esther disappeared on a hard, cold night, a night as cold and lonely as this one. Either she went away by herself, or she was kidnapped. Well, we know she didn’t just go away, don’t we? She was taken. It’s just a question of who did it. Was it a crazy boyfriend? If so, then it was a one-man show. But it wasn’t, was it? The kidnapper had help: somebody who posed as Esther when Mrs. Goodfellowe’s Packard was sold, somebody who faked Esther’s scar, wore Esther’s clothes and made believe she was Esther.”
“You’re nuts.”
“Would a crazy boyfriend enlist a woman’s help? He wouldn’t—but thieves would.”
She didn’t answer and I knew that Roland was right.
“You never were pregnant, were you? It was just a ruse to get Mrs. Goodfellowe to fire you.”
Defiant. “Why the hell would I want to get myself fired?”
“‘Cause it would’ve been too dangerous to walk out on your own. If you’d quit within months of the heist, the cops would’ve been suspicious. Ruth said you were scared. Of course, you were. You thought that if they suspected Esther, they’d suspect you—and they would’ve been right.”
“You get outta here.”
She went to the apartment door and yanked it open. I stood my ground. I wouldn’t have been doing her any favors by leaving.
“You’d better close that door and listen. You’re on the losing team, baby. What has Eric done for you? All this time, what has he done? Has he bought you fine clothes? Or paid for a nice place? He hasn’t and he won’t. He’s left you like a sitting duck.”
“Shut up!”
“Talk now—’cause the clock is ticking.”
“Get outta here!”
“I can help you. I can help you find a good mouthpiece. But if you don’t speak up—”
“I don’t need your help. You hear me? Now get out! Get out!”
“It’s over, Beth. Don’t you understand? I’m going to make it over.”
We locked eyes. She saw my resolve and I saw her fear. Her bravado wilted. She looked out her open door as though it was her last vision of freedom, then sighed, closed the door and leaned against it.
“Nobody’s gonna believe you,” she said in a monotone without conviction. “You got no proof.”
“It doesn’t matter. Once I tell them what happened, they’ll start digging. They’ll pull you in and make you talk. And there’ll be no negotiating. The time for that is now. Come on, come with me. I’m sure we can make a deal.”
“I’m not talking to no cops.” She shook her head. “They’d kill me.”
“We’ll go to my office. Talk to my boss. Write up your story. I’ll call a lawyer.”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “It’s too late.”
“It’s not too late. Come with me.”
She thumbed the tears away, smearing her eye makeup. Hugging herself, she came back down the hall and collapsed in her sole chair.
“What am I going to do? Oh, God, what am I going to do?”
I told myself not to feel sorry for her, but I did. “Esther told you about her problems with Whitfield, didn’t she?”
Beth nodded.
“So you did know his name,” I said.
“I was too scared to give it to you.”
“Maybe,” I studied her. “But I think you were just doing what you were told to do.”
She straightened up. Fear flashed across her eyes. “What did you say?”
“You were given instructions, weren’t you?”
“How did you know?”
“Lots of little things. I don’t want to go into it right now. What I want to hear about is Esther.”
She was quiet, then swallowed and closed her eyes. “It was my fault,” she said in a small voice. “What happened to Esther, it was my doing. She told me about Whitfield, and I told Mr. Eric. Next thing I knew, he was telling me to make sure Esther got to the hospital that night. He didn’t say why. I wouldna never done it if I’d known why.”
“What did he do to her?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t tell me. Really. He never told me.”
“And you didn’t ask?”
She looked down. “I was afraid to.”
“Do you know where he’s hiding?”
“He’s gone. Been gone.”
“Where? Don’t protect him anymore.”
“Protect him? Oh, please, no! You think I’m here ‘cause he left me? They killed him. Said it was too dangerous to have him walking around. Someone might recognize him. And that if I ratted, they’d kill me too.” She shook her head. “I’m not saying nothing more. They’ll kill me if I talk.”
“You’ll go to jail if you don’t.”
Thick tears spilled down her face. “Please, give me time to think.”
I let out a deep sigh. She’d had three years to think. Three years more than she’d given Esther.
A sound came from the hallway. She and I exchanged looks. She got up and went down the hall. I heard her open the door.
When she reappeared seconds later, she wasn’t alone.