“You said he’s a regular, but how often does he come in? Once a week or more?”

  “No, every night, for dinner.”

  “Really,” Bennie said, surprised.

  “I like him, and we used to talk. If I weren’t married, I’d date him.” Emily smiled, her lips shiny with lip gloss. “He looks tough, but you can see that he isn’t, really. He used to talk about his mom. She died when he was little. He talked about his dad, too. Jason’s just a nice, quiet guy.”

  “What happened last night?”

  “Well, it was just really weird. Out of character.”

  “How so?”

  “Every time he comes in, he has a routine. A lot of regulars are like that. They have their own set table, they order the same thing. He gets pierogies and the soup special, mostly.”

  “So he didn’t sit at the bar?”

  “No he never did. Here, I’ll show you.” Emily led Bennie to the dining room, and they stopped at the table on the right against the wall. Emily gestured. “This is where he sits. It’s the worst table in the house because it’s next to the bathrooms, and sometimes, well, you know, it’s smelly.”

  “I get it.” Bennie sat in Jason’s seat, took out her pad, and set it on the table.

  “And you can’t see the TV from here, either. The crowd that comes in here, even if they’re in the dining room, they want to see TV.”

  “Hmm.” Bennie looked over, trying to see the view that Jason would have. The TV was angled away toward the bar patrons, so all he would’ve seen was the side. He could see the people sitting at the bar, but it wouldn’t be that easy to see him from the bar, sitting in the back. The divider was four feet tall, so all that would show of him was the top of his head.

  “I don’t think he did it. They must have the wrong guy.” Emily sat down, opposite Bennie. “First off, he doesn’t even know Richie.”

  “Wait, do you know Richie?” Bennie made a note, but didn’t show her hand.

  “Richie Grusini? Sure. He comes in sometimes, sits at the bar. He comes after work.”

  “Do you know where he works?”

  “Ackermann Construction in East Falls, I think. It says on his shirt.”

  Bennie made a note. “Was he big?”

  “Yes, just under six feet, and he had a beer gut. I don’t know him. My dad doesn’t let me bartend. He likes me to work in the dining room.”

  “So how do you know Richie?”

  “Everybody knows Richie.” Emily rolled her eyes. “He’s the kind of guy that if he’s in a room, you know it. He’s a loudmouth, especially when he drinks. He’s a mean drunk, on top of it. He looks at your chest when he talks to you. He knows more about my bra than I do. I hate that.”

  “Me too.” Bennie made a note, mentally filling in some of the blanks, and it wasn’t squaring with Jason’s story. “Tell me what else you know about Richie, other than where he works.”

  “Not much, really nothing.”

  “Does he come in alone or with someone?”

  “A buddy from work, a tall guy.”

  “What’s his name, this tall guy?”

  “I don’t know, but I know he’s from work because they both wear the logo sweatshirts. My dad or Sammy, he’s our night bartender, would know his name.”

  “If I give you my business card, do you think you can ask either of them to give me a call?”

  “Yes, if it helps Jason.”

  “Great, thanks.” Bennie went into her purse, extracted a business card from her wallet, and passed it across the table. “Was Richie with the tall guy, last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “What does he look like, besides tall?”

  “Tall and skinny, with brown floppy hair parted in the middle.” Emily rolled her eyes again. “Like what dude wears their hair parted in the middle?”

  “When Richie got thrown out, did the tall guy leave with him? I assume so.”

  “I wasn’t paying attention to them. It was Jason I was worried about.”

  “Now, to get back to Richie, he’s not married, is he?”

  “God, I hope not. He doesn’t wear a ring and sometimes he comes in with a girl, but never the same one.”

  “So no girlfriend?”

  “I don’t think so. There was a redhead, there used to be a blonde, and a brunette before her. He’s going through all the fake hair colors.”

  “Do you know any of their names?”

  “No, my dad or Sammy might. Whatever, they’re all the same. Too much makeup, too-tight jeans, you know. He was just the kind of bad boy that those biddies like. Me, I hate that type.”

  “Me too.”

  Emily smiled. “We should hang out.”

  “Do you know if Richie lives with anybody, a roommate?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you know if he has any family around here?” Bennie knew the answer, but she wanted to verify it, given that Emily already had so much misinformation.

  “I don’t think so. He’s not from around here.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “He doesn’t have a Philly accent, like us.”

  “Poor guy.”

  Emily smiled.

  “Okay.” Bennie flipped a page of her pad. “So what happened last night between Richie and Jason?”

  “It was the craziest thing, I didn’t see it coming. I knew something was bothering Jason, so I asked him, and he told me that it was the anniversary of his father’s death.”

  Bennie made a note, but didn’t interrupt Emily.

  “I felt bad for him, because I’m really close to my dad and that would suck if he died. Jason doesn’t have either parent, he’s, like, an orphan.” Emily paused, blinking. “Anyway, he drank more than usual. Usually he has two beers, then he stops. This time he had three. He didn’t get mean, he got quiet. He finished his dinner, and I cleared his place. He always gets black coffee after, so I turned to get his coffee. He always lets it cool. He doesn’t like it hot.”

  Bennie kept taking notes, letting her talk.

  “But when I came back with the coffee, he was already walking toward Richie at the bar. He tapped Richie on the shoulder and said to him, ‘do you know what today is?’ And Richie turned around and he looked surprised, then it was like one second later that Richie hauled off and shoved him backwards so hard he fell over.”

  Bennie imagined the scene, taking notes.

  “I couldn’t believe it! We don’t get fights in here. This is a neighborhood place, and everybody knows it. Practically everybody at that bar is a regular.”

  “Right.”

  “So all of a sudden, everybody clears the barstools and people start standing up in the dining room, and Richie gets the better of Jason right away, climbs on top of him and gets him on the floor, and everybody has to pull Richie off. Sammy, he’s huge, he used to be a bouncer. My dad would’ve been here last night, but he’s in the hospital for his gallbladder. Anyway, Sammy got Richie off of Jason and threw them both out.”

  “Who left the bar first, Richie or Jason?”

  “Sammy got Richie out first. I went over to Jason to see if he was okay, and he was. Sammy said he had to go, too, and Jason didn’t put up a fight. Sammy escorted him out.”

  “Was he angry when he left?”

  “No, just kind of stunned and sad.”

  “Did he say anything to you that suggested he was going to go after Richie?”

  “No, not at all. It took awhile for everybody to settle back down, and I felt terrible for Jason.” Emily shook her head. “He could’ve been sad about his dad’s passing, you know? Or maybe he just got sick of hearing Richie mouth off from the bar. A lot of times when Richie gets loud, we get complaints from the people in the dining room.” Emily hesitated. “God forgive me, I know it’s a sin to speak ill, but I can’t help it. My dad always says that bars are like people and every bar has an asshole. Richie’s ours.”

  “Did you tell this to the police?”

  “Sure
. Did they arrest Jason already?”

  “Yes, he’s in custody now.”

  “Oh no. You know what really gets to me, about last night? Before Jason went over to Richie, he left me this, right beside his beer glass. I didn’t even get his check yet.” Emily reached into her jeans pocket, pulled out her wallet, opened it up and showed Bennie a hundred-dollar bill. “Can you believe that?”

  “Wow.”

  “Right? How nice is that?” Emily folded the wallet back up and slipped it back in her pocket. “It’s sweet, right? It’s like he knew he was going to get in a fight with Richie and he wanted to make sure that I didn’t get stiffed. I told my husband, and he said Jason must’ve wanted to say good-bye to me, like he had a crush. Either way, it’s a sweet thing to do. Jason’s a gentleman. He’s not the guy who cuts somebody’s throat.”

  “Right,” Bennie said, though she was thinking it sounded like evidence of premeditation. “Did you tell the police about the hundred-dollar bill?”

  “No, I forgot about it. They only asked me about the fight.”

  “Well, thanks.” Bennie breathed a relieved sigh. She’d already learned enough to worry her.

  But she still had a few more stops to make.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  “So what did you find out?” Bennie asked Lou, while they climbed into a cab they’d caught in front of the bar.

  “I learned that everybody hates Richie. The night bartender wanted to ban him from the bar, but the owner wouldn’t let him.”

  “That’s what I learned, too.” Bennie climbed in the backseat and slid over, and Lou got in beside her, slamming the door. She leaned over to the cabbie, who was an older man. “Can you take us to 403 East Gansett Street?”

  “On it.” The cab took off.

  “That address is in Fishtown. It’s five minutes away. Who lives there?”

  “It’s Jason’s house. I called his roommate Gail and left her a message, but she didn’t call back.”

  “I also got the names of the other people at the bar, who will probably be witnesses for the Commonwealth. The night bartender had made a list and given it to the police, but they kept a copy.” Lou slipped a hand inside his coat, pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper, and handed it over. “Here you go.”

  “Great, thanks.” Bennie skimmed the list of names, none of which meant anything to her, then put the paper in her purse. “Jason ate dinner there almost every night, because Richie ate there. Evidently, Jason sat at a table in the back, which gave him a great view of Richie, but Richie wasn’t able to see him because of the divider. Remember the divider?”

  “Sure.”

  “So bottom line, it wasn’t a chance meeting that night, and Jason has been going there for a long time, following Richie.”

  “Stalking him?”

  “For lack of a better word, yes.”

  Lou frowned. “Did the waitress tell the detectives this?”

  “No, she didn’t realize that Jason knew Richie from before. But they’ll put it together. I think they told the detectives enough to figure it out, and what they didn’t tell the detectives, Jason did. He blabbed when they picked him up. He’s told them he hated Richie.”

  “So he handed them motive.”

  “Yes.” Bennie looked out the window, watching them pass older row homes with façades of aging gray brick or unfinished stucco. They were only two stories high, with four windows facing the street, and air conditioners rusted in the second-floor windows, where the bedrooms were. Black bars covered the first-floor windows and the front doors, some curlicued scrollwork that cost extra.

  “Chin up, Bennie.”

  “This is not an easy case.”

  “An easy case would bore you.”

  “I wouldn’t mind being bored right now.” Bennie flashed on the blood in the alley, shuddering.

  “You say that, but you don’t mean it.” Lou shifted forward in the seat as the cab slowed to a stop. “This is the 400 block of East Gansett Street, we’re here.”

  They got out of the cab and walked to number 403, a gray brick house with black plastic awnings over three of the windows. Bennie said, “By the way, the roommate’s name is Gail Malloy.”

  Lou looked over. “It’s a girl, you be primary.”

  Bennie walked up the stoop and rang the bell, and in the next moment, the door was opened by a petite, wiry woman who looked to be in her early thirties. She was obviously upset, her forehead knit and her eyebrows sloping unhappily downward.

  “Are you Bennie, Jason’s lawyer, right? That’s what you said on the phone.”

  “Yes I am, and this is my associate, Lou Jacobs.”

  “Please, come in.” Gail stepped aside. She was slight, with sandy brown hair cut in short, cropped layers, and she had on a pressed white shirt, black slacks, and black shoes. “The police were just here, that’s why I didn’t return your call, I didn’t want to do it when they were here. They told me that Jason was arrested for murder. They searched his room, they took his laptop. This is awful!”

  Bennie hid her dismay. “Could we come in and talk about it?”

  “Sure, sorry, come on in.” Gail let them into a small living room that held a brown fabric sofa, wooden end tables with knobby legs, and a coffee table with a red tile top. Indirect daylight poured through the barred windows, and no lamps were on.

  “Gail, who came here, was it detectives or uniformed police?”

  “Two detectives and two uniformed cops. They think Jason killed Richie. I know he hated Richie, but I don’t think he killed him. I told them that. That was okay, right?”

  “Yes, you have to tell them the truth. What else did they ask you and what did you tell them?”

  “They asked me a lot of questions about where he was last night, but I didn’t know for sure. I only know that when I came home this morning, he hadn’t come home last night. Please sit down.” Gail gestured at the sofa, her hand flopping back to her side. “I was just about to leave for work. You want coffee or something?”

  “No thanks. Do you have time to talk with us?”

  “Sure, about half an hour.”

  “Great.” Bennie sat down on the sofa with Lou, and Gail sank into a black vinyl recliner, catty-corner to them. Opposite the sofa was a table with an older-model TV and a tangled pile of video game controllers and joysticks.

  “Where’s Jason now?”

  “He’s in custody. He won’t be released on bail.”

  “Oh no.” Gail’s short forehead knit with concern. “Can I go see him after work? Do you know where they have him?”

  “Generally, he would get transferred from the Roundhouse to PICC, up on State Road near the Police Academy. I’ll find out if he’ll be there tonight and let you know.” Bennie slid her legal pad and ballpoint pen from her purse. “So, you said Richie’s name like you knew him. Did you?”

  “No, I never met the guy. I only know his name because Jason talked about him all the time, he told me everything about him.” Gail shook her head again. “I think he moved to this neighborhood because it’s near Richie.”

  Bennie could hear Lou sigh. “Did he say where Richie lived?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know how he found out where Richie lived?”

  “Online? He’s had a thing against him, he told me, ever since they were kids.”

  “Did he ever say to you that he wanted to kill Richie?”

  “Yes, only once or twice, and only when he drank. I never thought he really would.” Gail’s dark eyes filmed. “I know he’s not that kind of person, but he did have a temper. My partner Marie’s a nurse at the VA Hospital, that’s how we met. She always tried to get him to go to a shrink, but he wouldn’t. She thinks he has PTSD. He lashes out, when you don’t expect it.”

  “Really?” Bennie flashed suddenly on her meeting a long time ago, with the child psychiatrist in Mountain Top. She remembered they had discussed the possibility that Jason could develop PTSD, as a result of his childhood incarceratio
n. She didn’t know which way it cut; on the one hand, it might be a defense, but on the other, it made her wonder if Jason really had killed Richie. Bennie put it out of her mind for now. “Do you have any idea whether Jason had a hunting knife?”

  “I never saw one. I doubt he has any kind of weapon.”

  “Did he ever mention any friends of Richie’s? Richie was at the bar last night with a tall guy he worked with at Ackermann Construction.”

  “No.”

  Bennie shifted gears. “Let’s back up a moment. Would you tell me about yourself?”

  “I’m from Mayfair, all my life. I went to Prendy, then I did a year at community college, but I didn’t like it. I enlisted in the Army in 2003. I did two tours in Afghanistan, in Operation Enduring Freedom.”

  “Thank you for your service.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Lou added.

  Gail nodded, with a brief smile. “Thanks, but I didn’t see much action. I was a Fobbit, I never left the base. It was paradise compared to what some guys went through. But you know, I’ve known a lot of people who had to kill. Jason didn’t have that killer instinct. He was just a softy.”

  “How long have you known Jason?”

  “Half a year, when he moved here. He answered my ad on Craigslist. We liked him, Marie and I. I didn’t really want a male roommate, but no one else was answering the ad and the night he came over for the interview, he did the most amazing thing.”

  “What?”

  “You know, not everybody around here is superwelcoming to gay women.” Gail leaned forward, resting her arms on her thighs. “My neighbor on the right, he hates me. The night Jason came over, my neighbor was giving me a hard time. Right away, Jason stood up to him. He said, ‘It doesn’t matter who she is, it matters who you are. So be a gentleman, at all times.’ It backed the neighbor down, totally. That’s who Jason is. He always has my back.”

  Bennie made a note, touched.

  “So he moved in, and he lucked out on timing. I needed a new waiter at the restaurant, so I hired him. He did great. He’s a hard worker.” Gail shook her head. “He just couldn’t get his head out of the past. I don’t know if you know, he went to juvie when he was in middle school. It was really awful.”