Connections in Death (In Death #48)(39)

“I didn’t hear about this,” Strong muttered.

“Neither did Lyle. I didn’t see the point. I asked her if she’d like me to call the cops, have her hauled in for unlicensed solicitation, unlicensed begging. Maybe I could get stalking tossed in there, too. We said a few uncomplimentary things to each other, but she left. Parting shot? Unless I was—sorry about the language—‘sucking Lyle’s dick,’ she’d get him back, and I could go to hell.”

“You should’ve told me, Matt.”

“Babe, if I told you about every time I have hard words with an addict, it’s all we’d talk about. She took off, Lyle and I went to the meeting, had coffee after. He thanked me for going with him, said he was feeling a little down.”

“Did he tell you why?” Eve asked.

“Yeah. It was the anniversary of his mother’s suicide. He got through it, and I felt like getting Dinnie off him that particular day was, well, meant, you know? He just didn’t need that shit.”

“Any other recent altercations with her, or anybody else in the gang?”

“No. I’m not in their territory. I do know Slice went into Lyle’s work right after Lyle got the job. They go back, you know, to when they were kids. Slice figured he’d come back to the gang, Lyle said he was done with that life. They got into it a little, but Lyle said Slice backed off—in a fuck you then kind of way.”

“Any return visits?”

“I don’t think so. I really believe he’d have told me if Slice kept at him.”

Matt reached for Strong’s hand again, obviously needing the connection. “Lyle contacted me after that time, needed to talk. I know he told his parole officer, and his boss backed him up on it. Some of the other Bangers went in off and on in the first few weeks, trying to get a rise. He didn’t give them one. He stuck.”

Matt scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s not easy, Lieutenant, to stick, to push back your old life, the people in it, to stay straight and sober every day when somebody’s tempting you otherwise. But he stuck.”

That picture came through clear enough, Eve thought. “How about the prison shrink? Lyle met with him on and off, too. Do you know him?”

“Sure.”

“Would Lyle have told him anything he wouldn’t tell you or Detective Strong?”

“I can’t say, but from what I know Lyle just wanted to keep that connection open. He credited Ned with helping him turn the corner while he was inside.”

Matt shifted, leaned forward a little, met Eve’s eyes straight on.

“Addicts are liars, Lieutenant. I spent a good part of my life smoking, popping, drinking anything I could get my hands on, and lying about it. I’m spending this part of my life dealing with people who are either doing the same thing or trying to break the cycle. I’m probably nearly as good at spotting a liar as both of you. And I believe Lyle told me whatever weighed on him, whatever lifted him, worried him, made him proud. Being a CI made him proud, but he’d never have done it if they hadn’t put that boy in the hospital. He talked to me about it before he made the call.”

He looked at Strong, smiled a little. “Backup,” he repeated. “I was his backup, so I said how it might’ve been him. Not in the hospital, but putting some kid in there. Beating on some kid just because he could. And until he’d gotten straight, he wouldn’t have given a damn. Kid should mind his own, right? Shouldn’t get in front of Banger business. Asking for it. He saw things different now.”

“Okay. If you think of anything else, let me know. Detective Strong, I’ll be in touch.”

When she rose, so did Matt. “Lieutenant? Is it all right if I go see Lyle’s grandmother? I know the family. Hell, they invited me to Thanksgiving dinner. I’d like to go see them, do something.”

“I’ve got no problem with it. Keep his CI status out of it, for now.”

Eve went to get her coat, her partner. “Lyle’s sponsor comes off solid and steady. It’s clear they had a tight, personal friendship, also solid and steady.”

“How’s Strong holding up?”

“She’ll stand. Did you make notification on Duff?”

“Yeah. Duff’s mother took it like she’d been waiting for notification most of Duff’s life. Sad, resigned, unsurprised.”

They headed out of the bullpen as Peabody ran it through.

“She said she hadn’t spoken to Duff in more than a year. Duff’d gone home, claiming she was in trouble, needed to come home to get well, and so on. Not for the first time,” Peabody added. “A couple of days in, the mother comes home from work, the daughter’s gone, the living room screen, costume jewelry, and the cash gone with her.”

“That couldn’t have been a big surprise, either,” Eve said as they rode down to the garage.

“Not really. The mother had taken her in with the warning if she screwed up again, she’d never let her come back. She screwed up. The mom had all the locks changed, and told her neighbors if they saw her daughter, they should get the police. And she left a message saying the same on the ’link number she had.”

They worked their way down to the garage.

“She said her daughter didn’t have friends. She had losers and thugs. Always blamed everybody else when something went wrong, started using when she was about fourteen. Took off whenever she liked, would come back crying, being sorry, making promises, then do it all again. Took up with the Bangers, and the mother laid down the law. If she ran with that type, she couldn’t come home. Anyway, she didn’t know who she ran with, specifically, just the gang, the type.”