“That’s not why he moved out.”
With a pained look, Mal shifted. “Okay, look, I carried him on the rent for three months, heading into four. It didn’t seem right he wasn’t holding up his share, or even really trying to. So he moved in with his folks for a couple months, then he moved in with Lori.”
“Did the two of you fight about it? The rent?”
“Oh, Jesus, we argued some, sure, you know how it is. He was a little steamed, yeah, but we smoothed it over. We go back, man, a long ways. When I got a solid raise, I rented this place in the freaking Hamptons, man, for a week this summer, and I took Jerry and a couple of other pals along. It all chilled out. What happened to him? How did he die?”
“He didn’t.”
“But you said—”
“No, I didn’t. Jerry’s not dead, as far as I know. His parents are.”
At that Mal sprang up as if he’d been propelled. “What? No. Mr. and Mrs. R? No. Did they have an accident?”
“Homicide, Mal, remember?”
“Man, man.” Tears glazed across his eyes, coated his voice. “Were they mugged? They love to go to the vids, and sometimes they’d walk home late.”
“No.”
He dropped down again, covered his face with his hands. “I can’t believe it. Mrs. R, she always has something for me if I drop over. Cookies or pie or a sandwich. Always saying I need a haircut and to settle down with a nice girl. She’s like a second mother, you know? Oh, Jesus, when my ma finds out, it’s going to knock her flat. They’ve known each other forever. Poor Jerry. God, poor Jerry. Does he know?”
“Yeah, he knows. He killed them.”
His hands lowered slowly. His eyes, glassy with shock and tears, stared into Eve’s. “That’s not true. That’s bogus. That’s not possible. No way. No freaking way, lady.”
“Lieutenant, and there’s absolute way. Where is he, Mal? Where would he go?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Rocking a little, he pressed his fist to his belly. “Where do you go when things are crazy or falling apart? You go the hell home.”
“He’s finished with that.”
“He wouldn’t hurt them. You’ve got it wrong.”
“Contact him. Try him on the ’link.”
“Look, I’m his friend. You’re trying to trap him for something he didn’t do. Couldn’t do.”
Eve leaned forward. “He stabbed his mother in the kitchen. I haven’t been to the morgue yet so I can’t verify how many times, but he tore her up. Then he waited until his father got home from work and he bashed him to pulp with a baseball bat.”
His color faded to a sickly gray. “No, no, he … a baseball bat.”
“That’s right.”
Mal swallowed hard. “We played ball. Little League, then a sandlot league my pop put together a few years ago. But he wouldn’t do this.”
“He did this, then he stole the cash they had in the house, and he found the passcodes and transferred every dime they had into accounts in his name. He spent the last two nights in a fancy hotel, living it up.”
“No.” He rose, walked to the window in front of his desk. “I don’t want what you’re telling me. We’ve known each other since we were six.”
“Where would he go?”
“I swear, I don’t know. My ma’s life, I swear it. He didn’t come here. He didn’t tag me.”
“He ditched his ’link. He’ll have a clone by now so you won’t recognize the ID if he does. And if he does, be chilly, Mal. If he says to meet him somewhere, say you will, then contact me. If he comes here, don’t let him
in. Don’t let him know you’re here, and contact me.” She set a card on the table as she rose.