V is for Vengeance (Kinsey Millhone 22)

“But why’d I go after him? That’s what I’m asking myself. It was over and done and if I’dda kept my cool, he’d have been gone.”

“You want to talk about it? Fine. If it’s going to make you feel any better, I’m listening.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Anything happens to her, I’m going to kill that prick. Swear to god I am.”

“Dodie’s in good hands.”

He turned and looked at me. “How am I going to pay for her care? You should’ve heard what the lady in there was asking me. And what was I supposed to say? We got no insurance, no credit, no savings, nothing in the checking account. Dodie’s hurt bad and we’re racking up thousands in medical bills. She hasn’t been here an hour and I’m already in the poorhouse. She’s bound to be laid up, which means no income from her. I’m an ex-con. I can’t get a job for shit. And look at all the other bills we got. How will those get paid?”

“I’m sure there’s some form of financial assistance through the county,” I said.

“I don’t want handouts! Me and her are proud. We’re not deadbeats, we’ve just been down on our luck, and now we’re totally sunk . . .”

I kept my mouth shut and let him ramble. Dodie’s fate was unknown. He didn’t dare assume she’d live and he couldn’t own up to the fact that she might just as easily die. He was superstitious enough to avoid talk about either possibility lest he tip the scales. Instead, he focused on the financial upheaval, which he was equally ill equipped to deal with. He must have felt safer thinking about the bills he’d be facing, which were at least concrete and more nearly in his control than Dodie’s perilous state. I crossed my arms, hunching over to keep warm, thinking he could just as easily give vent to his worries in the hospital waiting room. He never once mentioned running out on his obligations, but his fretting was self-perpetuating. I felt like a Hallmark card when I suggested he deal with his troubles one day at a time. What was this, a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous?

I said, “Let’s talk about something else.”

He was silent, still brooding. “You know how all this started, don’t you?”

I shook my head.

“With Audrey Vance.”

“Audrey?”

“Yeah, I thought you must have figured it out. I was there the day of her arrest. I borrowed Dodie’s Cadillac late afternoon to take a little spin and got busted on a DUI. Audrey was brought in about the same time.”

“You knew her?”

“Oh, sure. Her and me go way back. I did a couple jobs for her and don’t ask what because I’m takin’ that to my grave.”

“Did you talk to her?”

He shook his head. “I only seen her in passing so I never had a chance. Next day she called in a panic because of what she witnessed that night.”

“Which was what?”

“When she came out of the station after her boyfriend posted bail? There sat Cappi in a parked car with Len. She knew who he was because she worked for his brother. Didn’t take a rocket scientist to know Cappi was on the police payroll, telling Priddy everything he knew. She knew she was dead meat if he realized she’d seen ’em together. Guess he must have done just that or she’d still be here.”

“So who threw her off the bridge?”

“Who do you think?”

“Cappi?”

“Of course. He had to shut her up or she’d have told Dante. Priddy may be corrupt but he wouldn’t go that far. Yet. Anyway, subject closed. I shouldn’t have let on, but I figured you must be concerned how I’d get caught up with the likes of him.”

“I did wonder,” I said.

“That asshole Cappi’s not going to get away with this. I get my hands on him, he’s dead.”

“If he’s on the run, he might leave the state. You don’t even know where he is.”

“I can sure as shit find out. I got street connections and I know where he lives. A guy like him can’t disappear. He’s not smart enough. He couldn’t even get a job on his own. He’s reduced to working in his brother’s warehouse. That’s how he gets the lowdown on all the stuff he’s passing to the cops.”

“Just stay out of it.”

“Oh, no. No, no. He’s not getting off that easy. I got ways to get even.”

“You can’t afford to get even. You’ll only make things worse.”

“You don’t know worse. I know worse. I ought to plug him full of holes and let him see how it feels.”