“It’s all right, Carmine.”
“What else did you tell him?” Eve asked.
Carmine’s gaze slid to Alex again, and again Alex gave the assent. “Not much to tell. We had a beer, and we were talking about the game some, and he was saying, sort of thinking out loud, like, that Mr. Ricker and Roarke would do this business deal after all. So I said, I did-n’t think it was any kind of business deal. How I didn’t catch much, ’cause you’re not supposed to listen, but the breeze carried the voices sometimes. How it seemed they were mostly talking about Miss Coltraine and Mr. Ricker’s father, and how maybe—”
“Maybe?”
“Mr. Ricker.”
“Keep going,” Alex demanded, not so kindly now.
“Well, it sounded like maybe Mr. Ricker thought his father might’ve done something. I was just talking to Mr. Sandy, Mr. Ricker.”
“Yes, you were,” Eve said before Alex could speak. “Did you talk to him about anything else?”
“Not really. I didn’t hear that much. I wasn’t trying to hear, I swear. I guess, now that I think about it, Mr. Sandy asked a lot of questions, and he wasn’t exactly happy I didn’t know more than I knew. I just said how at the end you and Roarke shook hands, and that was that.”
“That’s fine, Carmine, thank you,” Alex said. “You can go back to your quarters now.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Ricker. If I did anything—”
“You didn’t. We’re fine.”
“One more thing,” Eve said. “Did you drive Mr. Sandy anywhere yesterday?”
“No. I drive Mr. Ricker, unless Mr. Ricker says different.”
“Did you or anyone drive Mr. Sandy anywhere this week?”
“No. We only got the one car here, and I drive it. Right, Mr. Ricker?”
“That’s right, Carmine. You can go.”
Alex turned, walked into the living area, sat. “You think Rod’s working for my father.”
“And you don’t?” Eve countered.
“We’ve known each other more than a dozen years. We’re friends. Friends. He knows nearly everything there is to know about me. He knew what Ammy meant to me. You can’t expect me to believe he’s part of this.”
“Why didn’t you tell him the details of your meeting with Roarke?”
“It was private. E
ven friends don’t share everything.”
“I’d say, from the way Sandy pumped Carmine, he doesn’t agree with that.”
Alex pressed his fingers to his eyes. “So he was never really my friend. Just another tool. All these years.”
“Maybe, or maybe one picked up and turned more recently.”
“If he killed Ammy—”
“Could he have left the apartment that night, without security picking it up?”
“There are always ways,” Alex said. “Yes. The son of a bitch. The son of a bitch said to me, that night, he said I should go out, take a long walk, hit Times Square, get some energy from the crowds. So I did.”
“He indicated he thought you were in the apartment all night.”