City Dark(45)
“But what?”
“I remember the DA telling me about a witness. A homeless woman who knew Lois, for a while. She told a cop that Lois wanted to get over here. To Staten Island.”
Robbie let out a little chortle. “Yeah, well, she didn’t look me up.”
“Not that you know of,” Joe said. He felt like he was lecturing Robbie. “That’s why I’m asking these—”
“I know why you’re asking. You can stop. I just don’t know, no more than I know where she was all the goddamn years before that.” He smirked. “You know, it’s kind of funny—you don’t seem to care about those years, just the last few weeks before she was capped.”
“I cared at first.”
“Yeah, funny way of showing it. You had her relegated to a first-name basis before that first summer was up.”
“Jesus, that was a defense mechanism. Come on.” He knew he shouldn’t say the next thing, but out it came anyway. “You know, I get the feeling sometimes that it wasn’t the same for you. The abandonment, I mean.”
Robbie made a tsk sound.
“You’re oh so wise. Look where it’s gotten you.”
“Nothing then? You just have no idea how she ended up here?”
“All I know is, she didn’t end up here.” He lifted his chin toward the Brooklyn side. “She ended up there. I guess that’s why this is your problem. There were notes with her, right? Like shit she had just written? To you?” Joe looked away. He was hearing something in his brother’s voice. Something angry but underneath pained.
“She knew I was in Brooklyn, I guess,” Joe said, quieter. “I think the idea was to find you too.”
“What, you’re in her head now?”
“It’s not that. The homeless woman the DA told me about. Whoever she was, Lois was talking to her about trying to get over here. She was looking for a way. So maybe she knew about you too.”
“What did she look like when you saw her at the morgue?”
“Why?”
“I dunno. I didn’t get to see her. You did. What did she look like after all this time?”
“Old. Worn out. What would you think?”
“Did she look like our mother?”
“Just an old woman.”
“Man, you’re a cold fish,” Robbie said, shaking his head. “You should listen to yourself, how you talk about her. No wonder they think you tried to rip her head off.”
“If I did, I want to understand why!” He couldn’t believe he’d just said that out loud. And really loud. He put his hands over his mouth in prayer formation.
“You’re sober at least,” Robbie said. He stood and lit a cigarette. “Maybe that’ll help you, ’cause I can’t. I’ve got work in thirty. I’ve got to go.”
“That rehab place,” Joe said, his brow knitted, “on the hospital grounds, right?”
“Yeah.”
“How long have you been there? And how the hell did that happen, anyway?”
“A buddy of mine knew about it,” Robbie said. He drew on the cigarette and glanced out over the water. “I’ve been there three, four months, I guess. Pays well. Plenty of overtime.”
“Well, I hope you can keep this one,” Joe said. To himself he didn’t sound judgmental, but frankly there was no other purpose for the remark. He could feel himself slipping toward snark. If he wasn’t going to gain anything from Robbie, he needed to walk away. He had enough to fear and regret. Still, the words kept rolling out. “That’s all I’m saying.”
“That’s never ‘all you’re saying.’” Robbie accentuated the words. He fixed Joe with a dull gaze. “You should’ve been a judge. That’s all you do—judge people. Now it’s all catching up to you.”
“Then I’ll face it. I’m looking for answers, not redemption.” He lowered his voice. “I’m sorry, okay?”
“Sorry for what? You’re just being honest, looking at me like something you’d scrape from your shoe. It’s always been that way.”
“It wasn’t always that way,” Joe said, shaking his head. The foot was slipping off the brake now. Stupid or not, this is what always happened between them. “You made your life what it is. I’ve bailed you out. I’ve paid off your victims, for Chrissake.”
“What victims?” Robbie threw his hands up. “Some breathing skeletons whose families said I took money from? Family members who were pretending their aging loved ones were dead anyway? Let me tell you something—whatever I took didn’t exist for those kids until they started sniffing around and wondering what was left for them. That makes me public enemy number one?”
“It was more than just found cash. You manipulated accounts. You think I don’t know? You took money that wasn’t yours; it doesn’t matter who you think was entitled to it.”
“I didn’t have the head start, remember? I missed out on the trust you had.”
“That went to my education and nothing else,” Joe said. “Anyway, you separated yourself from Uncle Mike. From both of us, the only family you had left after that night. I’ve done what I could for you in the face of that, Robbie. You know I have.”