I'd been putting on an act this past minute or so, ever since I'd mentioned Saul Mercer. Because if Davidson had indeed been on that boat, then nothing I'd said would have any effect on him. He would—smugly, no doubt—inform me that his friend would vouch for him. Which he might well do, even if he were lying. But I could see no other way to shake his alibi, to shake him. I'd rolled the dice and was now waiting to see what numbers came up.
For a long moment Davidson didn't speak. Then he averted his eyes, cleared his throat, and said in a low voice, "I was with a woman."
"What was that? Speak louder."
He raised his eyes. "I was with a woman, you little turd. You happy?"
"That night? The night Esther and Erich were killed?"
"Yes. Saul and I, we cover for each other sometimes. We tell our wives we're on the boat together overnight, but one of us stays ashore and spends the night with another woman."
I noticed he used the present tense, meaning that he cheated on his wife regularly and had done so for at least ten years. My hands were below the table, bunched into fists. Natalie Davidson had defended her husband and tried covering up for him by lying to me. He didn't deserve her love. He didn't deserve her.
"So you were cheating on your wife, just not with Esther?"
"Yes," he said.
"You were with this woman all night?"
"I was at her place until four or five in the morning. Then I went to the docks to wait for Saul to bring the boat in."
"Are you still seeing this woman?"
He shook his head. "I got tired of her. You know how it is." And the lowlife actually grinned a man-to-man grin at me, showing his big teeth. Still grinning, his eyes drifted, passing over Greta as if she weren't there, and came to rest on Michael's face. Michael did not smile back. Instead, he eyed Davidson with such cold menace that the smile melted off Davidson's face like ice cream in an oven.
I could guess what was going through Michael's mind. Probably something similar to what was going through mine. He had lost his wife like I had lost mine, and he'd probably do anything to get her back—just as I would have done anything to be reunited with my Deborah. And here was this lucky moron with a loving wife and three children with a fourth on the way, and it wasn't enough for him. He was willing to risk it all for a thrill. Not only that, but he was actually gloating about how little he cared for his lover. No wonder Michael looked on the verge of beating him up again.
"Michael," I said, and when his eyes turned my way, I could tell he got my message.
Michael nodded and dropped his cigarette to the floor, crushing it with his foot. Then he jerked his eyes to Greta, sending her an apologetic look for dirtying her floor.
"I need this woman's name," I said.
"What for?" Davidson asked.
"So I can talk to her, see if she corroborates your story."
"It was ten years ago."
"Still. Tell me her name."
He hesitated. "I'd rather not. She's married, you see."
"It's okay for you to sleep with a married woman, but it's not okay for me to talk to her?" I leaned forward, making sure I didn't wince when my stomach twinged where he'd kicked me. "Listen to me now and listen good. Give me that woman's name or I go to the police and tell them you lied about your alibi and that maybe you weren't defending yourself when you cut that man. Your choice. What's it going to be?"
The hatred in his eyes was as hot as a bonfire.
He said, "How do I know you won't go to the police anyway?"
"You don't. I can give you my word and that's it. I won't tell the police Saul Mercer lied for you, and what happened here tonight will stay between us four. Unless you're the killer and unless you try to harm me or anyone I know. But you need to make your choice now."
I could see him trying to find a way out of this and having no luck, so he told me her name was Shulamit Hendleman and gave me the address where she lived when he was seeing her. I wrote it down in my notebook.
I slipped my notebook back into my pocket, even that small movement causing me pain; then I sat back, drumming my fingers on my thigh. I had one more question I wanted to ask Davidson.
"Did the police ever question you about you kissing Esther?"
"Yeah," Davidson said.
"Sergeant Rivlin?"
"I don't remember his name. The same guy who talked to me earlier, the one I gave my alibi to. He said there was a rumor Esther and I had a thing going on. I swore we hadn't. He said he might need to look deeper into it, that he was sorry if it would cause me problems at home. I could see what he was angling for. I said I'd appreciate it if he didn't spread lies about me. I slipped him some cash and he went away."
