The Burglar in the Closet - By Lawrence Block Page 0,36
Ray.”
“Yeah, that’s the truth. I know how it is.”
“I was trying to impress this girl. I just met her fairly recently, and one of those cops must have recognized my name and I didn’t want her to find out I’ve got a criminal past.”
“A criminal past.”
“Right.”
“But that’s all behind you, that criminal past. You’re Stanley Straightarrow now.”
“Right.”
“Uh-huh.” He puffed on his cigarette. I rolled down my window to let some smoke out and some New York air in, a pointless exchange if there ever was one. He said, “How do you tie in with this Sheldrake character?”
“He’s my dentist.”
“I got a dentist. They say to see him twice a year and that’s plenty for me. I don’t hang out at his office, I don’t try slipping it to his nurse.”
“Hygienist.”
“Whatever. You a big fight fan, Bernie?”
“I get to the Garden when I can.”
“This used to be a real fight town. Remember when they had a Wednesday card at St. Nick’s Arena? And then you had your regular fights out at Sunnyside Gardens in Queens. You ever used to get out there?”
“I think I went two, three times. That was some years ago, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, years and years,” he said. “I love it that you showed Todras and Nyswander a ticket stub. Just happened to have it with you. Jesus, I really love it.”
“I was wearing the same jacket.”
“I know. If it was me and I was settin’ up an alibi I’d have the stub in a different jacket and I’d take ’em back to my apartment and rummage through the closet until I came up with the stub. It looks better that way. Not so obvious, you know?”
“Well, I wasn’t setting up an alibi, Ray. I just happened to go to the fights that night.”
“Uh-huh. But if you just happened to stop there on your way home to pick up a stub that somebody else just happened to throw away, well, that would be interestin’, wouldn’t it? That would mean you were tryin’ to set up an alibi before the general public knew there was anythin’ to need an alibi for. Which might mean you knew about Sheldrake’s wife gettin’ bumped while the body was still warm, which would be a damned interestin’ thing for you to know, wouldn’t it?”
“Wonderful,” I said. “The only thing worse than not having an alibi is having one.”
“I know, and it’s a hell of a thing, Bern. You get suspicious when you’ve had a few years in the Department. You lose the knack of takin’ things at face value. Here all you did was take in a fight card and it looks for all the world like I’m fixin’ to tag you with a felony.”
“I thought it was open and shut. I thought you people figured the husband did it.”
“What, the murder? Yeah, it looks as though that’s how they’re writin’ it up. A man kills his ex-wife and leaves his own personal scalpel in her chest, that’s as good as a signature, isn’t it? If it was my case I might think it was a little too good, the way that ticket stub in your pocket was a little too good, but it ain’t my case and what does an ordinary harness bull in a blue uniform know about something fancy like homicide? You got to wear a three-piece suit in order to be up on the finer points of these things, so I just keep my own nose clean and let the boys in suits and ties take care of the homicides. I mind my own business, Bernie.”
“And what’s your business exactly, Ray?”
“Now there’s another good question.” A light turned and he hung a right turn, his fleshy hands caressing the wheel. “I’ll tell you,” he said. “I think there’s a reason I’m still wearin’ a uniform after all these years on the force, and I think the reason’s I never been a subtle guy. My trouble is I notice the obvious first and foremost. I see a ticket stub happens to be in somebody’s pocket and what comes to mind is a planned alibi. And I look at the guy in question and he’s a fellow that’s spent his whole life liftin’ things out of other people’s houses, what comes to mind is a burglary. Here we got a burglar who went to some trouble settin’ hisself up with an alibi, and the next morning we find him in the office of the dentist who just cooled out his wife, and