His voice echoing in the hollow shell of the building with the fake window shades and shutters and potted plants.
"We just want to talk to you!" Bent yelled. Still no answer.
They looked at each other.
Silence.
And then a faint sound coming from upstairs. Not a rat this time, the rats had done all their scurrying, the rats were back inside the walls. Bent nodded. Together, they started up the stairs.
The kid broke into a run again when they reached the first floor. Wade took off after him and caught him as he was rounding the steps leading up to the second floor. Pulled him over and backward and flat on his back and then rolled him over and flashed his police shield in the kid's face and yelled as loud as he could, "Police, police, police! Got it?"
"I didn't do nothin'," the kid said.
"On your feet," Wade said, and in case he hadn't understood it, he yanked him to his feet and slammed him up against the wall and began tossing him as Bent walked over.
"Clean," Wade said.
"I didn't do nothin'," the kid said again.
"What's your name?" Bent asked.
"Dominick Assanti, I didn't do nothin'."
"Who said you did?"
"Nobody."
"Then why'd you run?"
"I figured you were cops," Assanti said, and shrugged.
He was five-ten or -eleven, they guessed, weighing about a hundred and sixty, a good-looking kid with wavy black hair and brown eyes, wearing blue jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt with a picture of Bart Simpson on it.
"Let's talk," Bent said.
"I didn't do nothin'," Assanti said again.
"Broken record," Wade said.
"Where were you last Tuesday night around nine-thirty?" Bent asked.
"Who remembers?"
"Your girlfriend does."
"Huh?"
"She told us you were near the A amp; L Bakery Shop on Harrison. Is that right?"
"How does she know where I was?"
"Because you told her."
"I didn't tell her nothin'."
"Were you there or weren't you?"
"I don't remember."
"Try remembering."
"I don't know where I was last Tuesday night."
"You went to a movie with your girlfriend …"
"You walked her home …"
"And you were heading back to your own house when you passed the bakery shop."
"I don't know where you got all that."
"We got it from your girlfriend."
"I don't even have no girlfriend."
"She seems to think you're going steady."
"I don't know where you got all this, I swear."
"Dominick . . . pay attention," Wade said.
"Your girlfriend's name is Frankie," Bent said, "For Doris Franceschi."
"Got it?" Wade said.
"And you told her you were outside that bakery shop last Tuesday night at around nine-thirty. Now were you?"
"I don't want no trouble," Assanti said.
"What'd you see, Dominick?"
"I'm scared if I tell you …"
"No, no, we're gonna put these guys away," Bent said, "don't worry."
"What'd you see?" Wade asked. "Can you tell us what you saw?"
"I was walking home …"
He is walking home, he lives only six blocks from Frankie's house, his head is full of Frankie, he is dizzy with thoughts of Frankie. Wiping lipstick from his mouth, his handkerchief coming away red with Frankie's lipstick, he can remember her tongue in his mouth, his hands on her breasts, he thinks I they're backfires at first. The shots. But there are no cars on the street.
So he realizes these are shots he just heard, and he thinks
Uh-oh, I better get out of here, and he's starting to turn, I thinking he'll go back to Frankie's house, ring the doorbell, I tell her somebody's shooting outside, can he come up for a I minute, when all at once he sees this guy coming out of the liquor store with a brown paper bag in his hands, and he thinks maybe there's a holdup going on in the liquor store, the guy is walking in his direction, he thinks again I better get out of here. Then …
Then there were . . .
"I… I can't tell you," Assanti said. "I'm scared."
"Tell us," Wade said.
"I'm scared."
"Please," Wade said.
"There were . . . two other guys. Coming out of the bakery next door."
"What'd they look like?" Assanti hesitated.
"You can tell us if they were black," Bent said.
"They were black," Assanti said.
"Were they armed?"
"Only one of them."
"One of them had a gun?"
"Yes."
"What'd they look like?'
"They were both wearing jeans and black T-shirts."
"How tall?"
"Both very big."
"What kind of hair. Afro? Dreadlocks? Hi-top fade? Ramp? Tom?"
"I don't know what any of those things are," Assanti said. "All right, what happened when they came out of the bakery?"
"They almost ran into the guy coming out of the liquor store. Under the street light there. Came face to face with him. Looked him dead in the eye. Told him to get the hell outta their way."
Bent looked at Wade knowingly. Their star witness, the guy coming out of the liquor store. Chickenhearted bastard.
"Then what?"
"They came running in my direction."
"Did you get a good look at them?"
"Yeah, but…"
"You don't have to worry, we're gonna send them away for a long time."
"What about all their friends! You gonna send them away, too?"
"We want you to look at some pictures, Dominick,"
"I don't want to look at no pictures."
"Why not?"
"I'm scared."
"No, no."
"Don't tell me no, no. You didn't see this Sonny guy. He looked like a gorilla."
