I took an approximation of a deep breath. It didn’t help. I took another one and looked at Levin. “Do you want to tell me just what the hell what you’re talking about?” I had to make sense out of this. Physically shaking it out of a homicide detective would likely be counterproductive and I was too weak to do a proper job of it anyway.
“You know Woo’s from California, right?” Levin was referring to notes on his ever-present spiral-topped notebook.
I nodded. “Yes, he was born in San Francisco. He’s been out here a couple of years now.”
“Yeah, MacKay got him his first job out here. He had to be employed before he could leave the state of California while he was still on parole. And you’ve been together about a year, right?” I nodded. “Well, before he moved out here, your boyfriend served some time in the penal system. It should have been five years, but he pled down and got two, and then got let out after eighteen months, a side benefit of an overcrowded prison system. MacKay only served a year and came right back home to Louisiana. His dad lined up a job for him in the family firm. I think MacKay had better lawyers.”
With a family that rich, I wasn’t surprised. “What, what for?” Michael in jail? I couldn’t envision this at all.
“Cocaine possession, with intent to sell. At least he had enough on him to sell. Like I said, he pled out.” His eyes softened. “You didn’t have any idea about this, did you?”
Not a glimmer of a clue. It was not a totally unfamiliar feeling, but I didn’t like it any more than I had the last time. “No, I didn’t.” As I thought about it, it occurred to me the arrest and conviction might explain Michael’s estrangement from his father. He’d told me once his father considered him a disappointment, to put it delicately. Could this be why? Why didn’t he tell me? What else didn’t I know? I looked back at Levin. “So he knew Ian MacKay. From work?”
“They both worked at Digital Communications Unlimited before it went under. From the people we’ve talked to in California, they were pretty heavy into the party scene. So you didn’t see your boyfriend at MacKay’s funeral?”
“I didn’t see much of anybody, no. When I was invited back to the house, I ended up helping out in the kitchen more than anything else.” Herded there, actually. Something Ian’s sister had started to say to me came back to mind. “You must be with . . .” and then the redhead had interrupted us. That pointed in a direction I didn’t like. Had I missed him in a crowd of a couple hundred at the funeral? It was certainly possible. Had he been at the house, too? It made a certain amount of sense. Michael had known I was there and didn’t want me to know he was there. The realization sat in my stomach like a bad cassoulet. Did he still use drugs? I couldn’t believe that. I would have seen signs. Wouldn’t I? Paraphernalia? How much was the redhead in on it? How could I not have known, not have noticed something, anything, that led up to this?
My mind raced through a variety of scenarios. I wished I could talk to Madeleine. Maybe she could tell me more about her cousin. I wished again I could talk to my dad. Or Michael. Or anyone who wasn’t looking at me with accusing eyes. Speaking of accusing, Jerry and I were going to have a long talk. There’s no way he couldn’t have known about this. He did a thorough background check on everyone that worked for him.
“What made you think Ian MacKay was alive?” Levin’s voice cut into my thoughts. I sneezed before I answered. Neither one said, “God bless you.” Good thing I didn’t believe that I was forcing my soul out of my body when I sneezed.
“I went out to the Inn on Bourbon on Monday night to have drinks with a friend. Marie St. Pierre. You met her last year.”
“She’s hard to forget. Go on.”
“That’s where I saw him the second time; just for a second. The bartender wouldn’t confirm my story, but I played a hunch,” no sense bringing the piano player into it, if she hadn’t been calling me on the sly, she would have left her name. “And I found out the redhead had paid him off not to tell me. If I’d had anything other than a hunch, I was going to call you.”
Levin didn’t bother hiding his disbelief. “If anyone else had said that, Zofia, I might believe them, but let’s face it, our relations haven’t always been cordial.”
That was an understatement. “Well, you haven’t arrested me lately, I was willing to give things another shot.” I kept my face expressionless. Finally, Levin laughed. Washington’s face stayed stony. I wondered what information he had fed to his cousin recently.
“I think we’re done here,” Levin said. “At least for now. If you hear anything, you’ll tell us.” It wasn’t a request. It never was.
“Of course.” I seemed to be saying that a lot lately. For once, when talking to the cops, I actually meant it.