Page 90 of Two Kinds of Stranger

‘It’s exactly because you’re too close that you shouldn’t represent them. We’ve got this.’

‘But you and Kate do things differently than I do.’

Harry stepped forward, put his hand on my shoulder and said, ‘We’ll do the right thing. Kate told me about Elly getting hauled off to solitary after she assaulted an inmate. Did you tell Kate to do that?’

I said, ‘I didn’t tell her to do anything. It was her choice, and she stepped up to protect her client. I know she’s been feeling bad about it since. I just can’t let Christine go to prison for the rest of her life for a crime she didn’t commit. Nor Kevin, for that matter. A couple of years ago, I wouldn’t have minded Kevin being out of the picture, but not like this. And not now. I see he’s good for Christine, Amy too.’

‘You’ve got to trust Kate and me.’

‘I’ve never doubted your abilities. That’s not what I mean.’

‘She’s not like you, Eddie.’

‘I know. She’s better. That’s the problem. Look, I’m sorry. I can’t—’

‘I’ll do whatever it takes to protect them. I swear to you. Remember, you gave me your word you would step back on this one. Take my word that I will do everything to win.’

He held out his hand.

I took it, and he pulled me into an embrace.

‘We won’t let you down, kid,’ said Harry.

I put my brow on his shoulder. Harry smelled of damp tweed and hard liquor. It was a familiar odor. One I’d grown to love.

‘I know,’ I said.

We stepped back, Harry punched my shoulder, said, ‘Let’s get out of here. We have work to do.’

I called out for Amy.

‘Just another few minutes,’ she said.

Harry said he’d take the lockbox and wait in the car.

I went upstairs, expecting to see Amy lying in her bed. In tears.

She was in her room, her bag packed and on the floor beside her. She sat at her desk, on her laptop.

‘What are you doing, sweetheart?’ I asked.

‘I. . .I was going to watch that show. Your favorite. The “just one more thing” guy, Palumbo?’

‘Columbo.’

‘Yeah, I started downloading it last night. Thought we could watch it at the weekend. But something happened. Look, the router says the Wi-Fi went out last night. It hasn’t downloaded. . .’

32

Bloch

Manhattan at night, in the rain, is a battlefield of color.

The streets ahead of Bloch were painted red by stop lights and the tail lights of cars in front, and every so often an ocean-green traffic light interrupted the deadlock to allow her Jeep to crawl forward. Streetlamps added intermittent cones of pastel yellow on the slicked sidewalks, which somehow only served to make the darkness in between them deeper and richer. The windshield wipers were working fast, sweeping away tides of rain as if washing away a rainbow of digital light. The front driver’s-side wheel of Bloch’s jeep broke a puddle of neon-pink rainwater, instantly turning it black, and as the ripples diminished the color swirled to life again and settled on its calm surface like a bright veneer.

Bloch pulled up at the apartment building to see Raymond, wearing his waterproof coat and carrying his kit bag, taking shelter in the doorway. Grabbing a fold-up raincoat from her glovebox, Bloch slipped it over her leather jacket, which was already soaked just from the short walk from the office to her car. Her dark blue jeans were black and clinging to her skin. Cold and wet.

She got out of the Jeep, locked it with the fob and joined Raymond in the doorway. A drainpipe on the storefront opposite must’ve broken loose from its brackets, because a torrent of rain was hitting the sidewalk as fast and hard as a fire hose.