Page 52 of Two Kinds of Stranger

‘Did you tell this cop the guy he’s looking for is called Joe?’ asked Lake.

‘Nah, we didn’t slip up that time,’ said the tall man.

‘Shit man, I didn’t mean to,’ said the short man.

‘Okay, what’s Joe’s second name?’ asked Lake.

‘Don’t know. We don’t know shit. Now leave us be,’ said the tall man.

Bloch took two fifties from her wallet, gave one to the short man, and the other to the tall man, along with a card with her name and cell phone number.

‘If you see Joe, or you see this cop come by again, call me. There’ll be another fifty for each of you. What are your names?’

They looked at the bills in their hands, then each other. The short man was waiting for his pal to take the lead.

‘I’m Pat, this is Sean,’ said the tall man. ‘You sure Joe’s not in trouble?’

‘None at all. The cop who asked about Joe, do you know what precinct he was from?’ asked Lake.

‘Didn’t say,’ said Pat. ‘I thought it was kinda strange at the time. He didn’t show no badge. Just said he was a cop and he was looking for Joe.’

‘The guy gave off a weird vibe,’ added Sean.

‘Weird in what way?’ asked Lake.

‘He was wearing all black. Combat pants, shell hoodie. Sunglasses and a black baseball cap. Had a big-ass Rolex on his wrist too. Never saw a cop like that before,’ said Sean.

‘Was he tall? Short?’

‘Average height. White guy. Built like a sprinter, or an athlete or something. Strong and lean. Had a little scar on his chin.’

‘I don’t like the sound of this cop. If he comes around again, you let us know,’ said Bloch. ‘We really need to find Joe. He might be in danger. Any ideas?’

Pat shook his head, but Sean looked at his friend then said, ‘His name is Joseph Novak. Try the VA. Joe was gonna try and get into a program again. If we see him, we’ll let you know.’

No rebuke from Pat this time.

Lake and Bloch thanked the men and headed back to Bloch’s car.

‘The Veterans Administration office is on West Houston Street,’ said Bloch, pronouncing itHowston, like all New Yorkers.

‘What kind of cop goes looking for a witness and doesn’t give a card or a contact number, or his name?’ said Lake.

‘The kind of person who isn’t a cop. Could be Elly’s man with the suitcase is trying to take care of loose ends.’

‘Or it could be nothing to do with this case. Might be a coincidence.’

‘You don’t believe in coincidences,’ said Bloch.

‘I believe in logic. Why draw attention to yourself by hunting down a homeless man who may or may not be able to identify you? Think about it. Soon as we get the MTA footage from the subway, we’re going to know exactly what this guy looks like anyway.’

Bloch’s phone rang.

She picked up. Listened. After thirty seconds, she ended the call.

‘My contact is gonna check the traffic and NYPD Argus cameras. There’s no subway footage for the day Elly was poisoned,’ said Bloch.

‘What?’