Jack led me out of the room amidst the hubbub of Jimmy and Ben shouting, “Who?” and Raymond questioning who was Paulie. “Keep quiet,” Jack said and steered me down the hallway. I thought he might be headed to the office – he was definitely wearing his cop face, not his bedroom one – but we passed the office, and he gently pushed me by the lower back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind us.
“What do you think you know?”
“Not what. Who.”
He waved his hands in a get on with it motion. “Who?”
“Carla.”
His body tensed, and I knew that I’d hit on something. Maybe Jack already knew that Carla had done it – or had it done – and just didn’t have enough for an arrest. Maybe I could help him with that.
“Why do you think Carla did it?”
“The ledgers.”
He crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. He motioned to the floral, upholstered chair that sat in the corner of the room, and I moved to it and sat down, casting aside a pair of pants and a top that I’d thrown there the previous night. He pulled a small notebook out of his back pocket and grabbed a pen from my bedside table.
It seemed all the men in my life carried around tablets, notebooks, or ledgers of some kind. Whether it was full of borrowed money and interest rates, betting odds and sports scores, or information on a murder investigation, depended on which man. And which type of ledger.
“Spill,” Jack said, pen poised over paper.
“Whenever I play in one of Vince’s games, I sign in for money borrowed in a ledger that Carla keeps.”
“Vince Santini allows that stuff to be written down?”
“I don’t know if Vince ever even has contact with the ledger. Carla usually keeps it. I don’t know that it could ever be connected to Vince if it came down to that. I’m sure it would be destroyed long before it got to that point.” He looked at me skeptically. “There’s a lot of players involved here, Jack. Too many and too big of numbers to go solely by memory. Plus, when you borrow, you sign the ledger.”
“Which in no way could be legally binding if you’re talking about extortion,” he pointed out.
“Right, and we – the players – know that, but there’s something about signing that ledger in front of Carla – and Paulie – that, I don’t know, makes it feel a little less seedy. Like we were just going to a cash cage at a casino and getting a line of credit or something. Cashing a check at a bank.” I leaned forward, my arms resting on my thighs, trying to understand it myself, why signing that ledger lent a sense of…honor to something so dishonorable. “I’m sure it started as old school, just a way to keep track of it all. Obviously, it could now all be entered into something electronic that could be easily erased, but they must have known that the ledger would be more influential for a borrower. More…binding somehow.”
“Honor amongst thieves?”
I leaned back in the chair, crossed my arms over my chest, not really liking Jack’s summation. But not able to disagree with it either.
“Okay,” he said, sensing my mood change, “let’s get back to this ledger. The one Carla kept.”
I uncrossed my arms, leaned forward once again, fully engaged now. “It’s a blue leather one, with a red piping stripe across the front and down the binding. Jimmy’s smaller one reminded me of it, that’s what triggered this.”
He wrote something in his notebook and motioned for me to go on. “But when I went to talk to Vince last night, he brought a ledger into the bedroom with us.” Jack looked up sharply at me. “At a hotel suite,” I tried to clarify, but that didn’t seem to help. “Where a poker game was being played. With lots of other people there.” Jack studied me for a second, then put his head down, writing and motioning for me to continue. “He wanted to talk in the bedroom of the suite for some privacy, but he brought Carla’s ledger in with us because he didn’t want the other players to think there was anything other than business going on between us.”
“Which is true, right?”
“I wouldn’t have crawled into bed with you last night if it wasn’t.”
He nodded. “So, the ledger last night?”
“The one he took from Carla and brought into the bedroom with us was a black leather one, with a gold piping stripe.”
“So? They started a new ledger.”
“No, I saw this one. It was half full with really recent dates in it. It had my signature in it from past games.”
“So?”
“I never signed a black ledger. Always blue.”
“You can be sure of that?”
“Yes. I’m absolutely sure of that.”
“Double books.”
“Yep.”
“No way are there going to be two sets of something so incriminating. One is bad enough, but necessary.”
“Exactly,” I said. He was with me now.
“She cooked the books on Vince. When she ran a game alone, she used the one ledger then showed Vince the other one.”
“Right.”
“She would have had to forge the players’ signatures.”
I shrugged. “Not so hard to do if they’re right in front of you. I’m sure Vince wasn’t studying the signatures too closely. He’d be looking at amounts borrowed and start figuring how much he’d make in interest. He’s seldom at the games. In fact never when Paulie was alive, so he wouldn’t have noticed the different books.”
“So, somebody borrows 20K, signs for it in Carla’s ledger. Then she writes 18K in Vince’s ledger. When they collect, she pockets the difference.”
“Right, but she couldn’t do it alone. She had to have the cooperation of the collector, the enforcer.”
“Paulie,” we both said at the same time, Jack scribbling away.
“So they were skimming off the top from Vince Santini.”
“Probably little amounts, but who knows for how long. I’m sure it added up.”
“So, why would she kill the only man who can keep their scam going?”
I shrugged. “Maybe Paulie was skimming off of her share? Or she was on to him? Maybe he was going to rat her out to Vince? The way she spoke about him at his funeral, I don’t think there was ever any love lost between the two of them. Something probably came to a breaking point.”
“That’s a long leap to murder,” Jack said calmly, but I noticed there was no skepticism in his voice.
“That leap is made every day, you know that.”
“Yes, it is.”
“There could have been all kinds of other things going on, too. You’ve said yourself you never really know what’s going to make people snap. Look at Saul.”
“That’s true.”
“It makes sense, Jack. I don’t know all the whys, and the hows, but it makes sense.”
He was nodding and folding up his notebook. “I need to go,” he said, rising from the bed and coming to stand in front of me. He knelt down onto his haunches, putting himself level with me. “I probably won’t be back tonight. We’ll want to move on this.”
“So you think there’s something there?”
“I think you’re on to something, yes.”
I let out a long breath. I was glad I could help out Jack, and in a way, Vince. But I liked Carla and didn’t want to be the one to cause her downfall. Though I guess she did that herself the moment she decided to get rid of Paulie.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, rising.
I got up from my chair and put my arms around his neck, kissed his strong jaw. “Be careful,” I whispered.
“Always.”
“Call me as soon as you know anything.” He looked down at his feet, avoiding my gaze. “Please,” I added. He slowly looked up, met my eyes, and gave a small nod of consent. He kissed me and left the room.
Sunday was Day Sixteen, and I desperately wanted to place a bet. Not so much for the bet itself, but for the distraction a Hummer would create. I hadn’t heard from Jack by noon, and that’s when I called him for the first time, leaving him a message on his voice mail asking him to call me back.
By two, I’d almost gotten in my car and drove to a casino, but Ben, sensing my agitation, asked me to help him set up a new jigsaw puzzle with him in his bedroom. I spent a few hours with him, turning pieces over, separating the edge pieces.
I’d told Jimmy and Ben (and Raymond, but he didn’t know any of the players) about my suspicion of Carla last night after Jack left. After I laid out my case, they seemed to think I was on to something. Not hearing a word from Jack was, I thought, confirming my suspicions.
Was Carla right now being interrogated in that dreaded room at the station? Were Jack and Frank Botz searching her apartment for the murder weapon? I couldn’t see Carla shooting Paulie in cold blood, but recently I’d seen a lot of stuff happen that I wouldn’t have believed from people I thought I knew well.
And really, did I know Carla all that well? Sure, I’d seen her a few nights a week, talked with her as I got my chips and cashed out. She always had a magazine with her at the poker games, and we’d often chat about the celebrities on the cover or an article she was reading.
I liked her, but it was more the type of relationship you might have with a waiter at a restaurant you frequented a few nights a week.
Except for the extortion part.
Finally, around eight, and after three voicemails, Jack called me back.
“I can’t talk long,” he said. “I have to get back to it. I wanted to let you know I wouldn’t be coming over tonight. I think it’s going to take all night.”
“What will, exactly?”
There was a lot of noise in the background, men shouting, so he must have been at the station. “I can’t tell you exactly, you know that. But it’s all coming to a head.”
“So, it was Carla? Were you able to find her?”
There was a hesitation. “Come on, Jack, I’m the one who turned you on to her.”
He let out a long breath. “She’s here now.”
“Did she confess?”
“She’s uh…being cooperative, that’s all I can say.” He sounded distracted, and I knew I wasn’t going to get much out of him.
“But she’s in custody?”
I heard someone in the background shouting for Jack. “What? Yeah,” he said, then to the background person he yelled, “Coming.” And then softer, to me, “Listen, I have to go.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks for keeping me up to speed.”
“I’ll call you when I can,” he said and hung up.
So, it was over. Paulie’s murder solved. Well, if not completely over, it was well on its way. I’d been questioned by Frank and Jack myself. Those guys knew how to work it.
It had been wrapped up at the end of the episode, much as Jack – and I – thought it wouldn’t be. I guess I should have felt something more than I did – pride that I’d helped, satisfaction that justice would be served. But I didn’t.
I felt bad for Carla and what was going to happen to her. I felt worse for Vince, who not only lost his best friend but would now also lose another piece of his past. And would find out he’d been betrayed by both.
God, it would kill him to know that Paulie and Carla had cooked the books and stolen from him. As loyal as he’d been to those two on his climb up the loan shark ladder? It would be devastating. And to find it out from Frank Botz, or worse, Jack? Cruel, cruel salt in his wound.
As if I’d conjured him up, my phone rang and my caller ID showed Vince. Would he have known about Carla already?
“Hi,” I said when I answered.
“Anna, are you busy?”
“No.”
“I need to see you.”
“Vince, I thought we kind of decided…”
“This isn’t about that. About us. It’s about Carla.”
Did he know about her being questioned? Possibly arrested.
“What about her?”
“I’d rather not talk about it on the phone. I could come there if – ”
“No,” I said quickly. I did not want him here with Raymond in the house. I didn’t want Raymond to ever see Vince if at all possible. Vince wouldn’t want that either. “I’ll come to you. Where are you?”
“I’m at home. At my condo.”
“I’ll be right over.”
“Thanks,” he said and hung up.
On one hand I would have rather met somewhere public so that there were no misinterpretations of me going to Vince’s condo. From either Vince or Jack. But on the other hand, anywhere else would probably be a casino and after the last twenty-four hours of being on edge about Carla, Jack and this whole damn thing, I wasn’t feeling particularly strong.
I went into the book room to tell Ben I was going out for awhile and saw a flash of concern in his eyes. “I’m not going to a casino,” I added. “Just to see a friend for a couple of hours.”
His brown eyes narrowed. He knew all my friends.
“I’m going to talk to Vince.”
“You’re not going to tell him about Carla, are you?”
I shook my head. “I’m not going to tell him anything. But I think he already knows. I’m guessing that’s why he called.”
“Oh.” He looked away for a moment, toward the televisions, but I knew he wasn’t watching the game. “You don’t need to meet him, you know. You could stay right out of it. Let Jack handle it.”
“I know. But it sounded kind of important and I owe him. He was…he got…” I looked at Raymond, who sat in a chair next to Ben and had been silently taking this all in. “He’s the reason Raymond – and I – are safe and out from under an investigation.”
Ben looked from me to Raymond, who remained silent, then back to me and began reluctantly nodding. “If you owe him, this would be a good payback. You’re right, he probably already knows and just wants to talk about it with somebody who knows all the players. It’s awful to be betrayed by a friend. It’s easier if they’re with someone they trust and…love.”
I knew Ben wasn’t just talking about Vince, but also about the news I’d had to break to him after Saul had died.
“I won’t be long,” I said softly and left.
I put on my jacket, left the house, fired up the Porsche and drove toward Palms Place.