Bernstein did not care much for his nickname. First of all he did not have a twitch. Yes, he fidgeted a lot, gestured wildly, bit his fingernails past the cuticles, played with anything he could get his hands on, blinked too much, never sat or stood still. Sure, everybody was always asking him when he had quit chain smoking.
But there was definitely no twitch.
"Better before I got this call," he replied.
"Looks like you put on a little weight, Willie."
Monticelli patted his stomach.
"Nice to meet someone who's not all caught up in the diet craze, huh?"
"Great." Bernstein took out his pencil, put it in his mouth, and chewed. It already looked like a much-used dog toy.
"What's the story here?"
"A garbage man found him half an hour ago. Wanna take a look?"
Already feeling his stomach churn, Max nodded and bit down harder on the pencil. He hated this part.
"Have to. It's why I'm paid the big bucks."
"Yeah, I can tell by your fancy set of wheels."
Willie walked over to the still form sprawled in the garbage.
He pulled the sheet back. Max swallowed away his nausea. Then he bent down and examined the mess that was once a living man.
"Jesus."
"Looks like the Gay Slasher is back," Willie said.
"Same M.O.
as the other two." "With one noticeable difference," Max said almost under his breath.
"And don't call him that, Willie. The press will dive all over it."
"They're gonna dive anyway."
"They ignored the first two victims," Max noted.
"They won't ignore this one."
"What makes you say that?"
"Do you know who this is?"
Bernstein looked down at the disfigured face and then up at Willie.
"His mother wouldn't recognize him."
"You're not going to like it."
"I never do."
"According to his wallet, his name is Bradley Jenkins. I checked him out. His father is "
"A U.S. Senator, I know." Max closed his eyes and turned away. He stroked his mustache.
"Right. Bradley lives on 12th Street. His father and mother have a house in the Hamptons. Weird, huh? Senator from Arkansas who vacations on Long Island?"
"Senator Jenkins has been living in the Northeast since he began going to school here as a boy," Max explained.
"I doubt the guy has spent five straight days in Arkansas, except during election campaigns."
"How do you know so much about it?"
Max's hand ran through his thick, dark curly hair several times.
"First of all, he's the Senate Minority Leader. Second, I read a newspaper now and again."
"And third?"
"Bradley is a good friend of Sara Lowell's. I met him once."
"Oh," Willie said.
"That's too bad. Think Sara will handle the story? It'd be nice to have a member of the press on our side for this one."
"I doubt it."
"Yeah, she won't waste her time with us anymore. She's big time now.
You see her on TV last night?"
Max nodded, pacing rapidly back and forth but traveling no more than five feet in any direction.
"You got today's Herald in your car?"
"Sure. Why?"
"Get it. I want to show you something."
Willie fetched the paper and handed it to Bernstein. Bernstein grabbed it and thumbed through the pages quickly, ripping several as he went along.
"Whoa, Twitch, slow down a minute."
"It's right here..."
"what's right here?" Willie asked.
Bernstein continued to rifle through the paper, the pencil still in his mouth.
"Did you read the society pages today?"
"Shit, no, I don't read that crap. But I did check out the box scores
"That should be a big help," Max said. He turned a few more pages, his right foot tapping the pavement impatiently.
"Bingo," he said at last.
"Take a look at this."
Willie looked over Max's shoulder. A page of photographs showed the well-dressed people who had attended Dr. John Lowell's charity ball the previous evening. Max pointed to the picture in the upper right-hand corner.
"There."
"Shit on a stick," Willie whispered.
The caption read: The luminous Sara Lowell enjoys the festivities after her triumphant News Flash debut with (right) her handsome hubby and Knick superstar Michael Silverman and (left) Senator Stephen Jenkins' dashing son, Bradley.
"It's him," Willie exclaimed, pointing to the photograph.
"It's Bradley Jenkins."
"Correct."
"Not much resemblance now. Maybe a little around the ears."
"Very funny."
"God, I hate these big cases," Willie said.
"Mayor'll be calling all the time. Everybody wanting answers."
"We might as well get started then. I want you to check the neighborhood. See if anybody saw anything."
"Sure thing. Someone must have heard something screams or a struggle or something."
Bernstein shook his head.
"I don't think the murder took place here."
"What do you mean?" "Take a look at the corpse," he continued.
"Bradley Jenkins has been dead since last night, right?"