“Gentlemen, listen up. We were just in court and we heard lots of testimony. Who can tell me the most interesting thing we heard this morning?” Mr. D’s hand shot up, and Judy smiled. Every teacher needs a pet. “Mr. D?”
“I didn’t know that Fat Jimmy heard Pigeon Tony say, ‘I’m gonna kill you.’ ”
Judy nodded. “Very good, but it’s not the answer I’m looking for. Tell me why that was interesting to you, Mr. D. Did you hear Pigeon Tony say that?”
“Of course. We all heard it, didn’t we?” Mr. DiNunzio looked at the other two for verification and they nodded, sure. “I was just surprised that Fat Jimmy heard it. He never looks like he hears anything. I guess it was really loud.”
Judy sighed. Case was going down the tubes. That made four—count ’em, four—witnesses to a murder threat by the client, who was, by the way, guilty as charged. “Did any of you hear anything that Coluzzi said, while they were both in there?”
“No,” Mr. DiNunzio said, and the others shook their heads, no.
“Why?” Feet asked. “Did he say something we shoulda heard?” He half-smiled in an encouraging way, but as much as she wanted to, Judy wasn’t writing scripts for witnesses.
“No, you heard what you heard. Okay, anybody else find anything interesting in the testimony today?”
Tony-From-Down-The-Block raised an unlit cigar. “I thought it was interesting that Fat Jimmy broke up with Marlene. Musta just happened, because I didn’t hear nothin’ about it. She’s a number, that Marlene. She makes a buck, too.”
“Not what I was looking for, but that’s very interesting.”
“It’s what I’m looking for,” Tony-From-Down-The-Block said with a snort, and Mr. DiNunzio gave him a solid shove.
“I thought you had that girl, on the Internet. In Florida.”
“She thinks I’m twenty-five. And anyway, I need a real girlfriend. I need Marlene. She’s got red hair.”
Feet wiped his mouth. “Her hair ain’t real.”
“So?” Tony-From-Down-The-Block sipped his coffee. “I got a bum ear and a prostate the size of Trenton. I’m gonna throw stones?”
Judy wished for a pointer and something to tap it on. “In any event, Feet, what did you learn in court today?”
“I heard something interesting.” Feet rubbed his hands over his legal pad, so that sugar crumbs fell like snow all over the table. “I heard Fat Jimmy say he only got paid fifteen large for blowing Angelo Coluzzi.”
Mr. DiNunzio’s head snapped angrily around. “Don’t say blowing.”
Tony-From-Down-The-Block scowled. “Not in front of a girl.”
Judy winced. “True, it wouldn’t be the way I’d put it, but that’s close to what I was looking for. Fat Jimmy said he’d worked for Angelo for over thirty years. That’s a long time. What did he do for Coluzzi, besides the aforementioned? Mr. D? Do you know?”
“Not really. I wasn’t in the racing club, like these guys. I just know Pigeon Tony.”
Feet thought a minute. “Fat Jimmy was with Angelo all the time. He drove him around, went to the clubhouse with him. Showed up at all the races with him.”
Tony-From-Down-The-Block was nodding. “He had to take Angelo’s shit, that’s what. Angelo bossed him around all the time.”
“You couldn’t pay me enough,” Feet said, and Mr. DiNunzio shook his head.
“Me neither.”
But Judy had stopped listening. She took a seat at the head of the table. “We all know that Pigeon Tony’s son and daughter-in-law were killed in a truck accident last year, and that Pigeon Tony thought Angelo Coluzzi was responsible for it. Tell me what happened with the accident, like where it was.”
Mr. DiNunzio looked up. “It was at the ramp off of I-95, you know where it goes high to get back into the city, like an overpass. It’s a sin.” He shook his head slowly. “They think Frank lost control of the car, maybe he was tired, and the car went over the side and crashed underneath.”
Judy tried to visualize it. “Did it hit anybody when it fell?”
“No. That time a night, there was no traffic. They say the Lucias, they died when the truck crashed. They didn’t suffer, which was good.”
“They were good people,” Feet said. “Frank, he’d give you the shirt offa his back. Did free brick work for me and my cousin. And Gemma, my wife loved her.” His silver tooth disappeared behind the sad downturn to his mouth, and Judy realized they were all still grieving over the loss of the Lucias, despite their bravado. “They didn’t deserve to go like that.”
Tony-From-Down-The-Block was shaking his head. “Nobody does, ’cept my ex-wife.” Feet laughed, and even Mr. DiNunzio smiled, which broke the grim mood that had fallen in the room.
Judy leaned over. “Well, if that wasn’t an accident, but was murder, and we can prove it at trial, maybe we can get Pigeon Tony’s charge reduced. And if Coluzzi was responsible for it, I’m betting that Fat Jimmy was involved.”
Mr. DiNunzio set his coffee cup down quietly. “Judy, I don’t think so. It had to be an accident, didn’t it? Maybe Angelo Coluzzi could get away with murder in the old country, in the old days. But here, in Philly? Nowadays?”
Tony-From-Down-The-Block chewed his unlit cigar. “They put a bomb under Judy’s car, for Christ’s sake. I wouldn’t put it past the Coluzzis, not at all. That scum was capable of anything, and he coulda made it look like it was an accident, since it was on the expressway and all.”
Only Feet looked grave. “I always thought Coluzzi did it. Always.”
“Why?” Judy asked.
“Just because. Coluzzi hated Pigeon Tony. He wanted to ruin him. Coluzzi was an evil bastard, and you know what? The next person Coluzzi woulda killed was Frankie. Frank.”
Judy shuddered. “So we have our work cut out for us. I want you all to help, but you gotta make me one promise before I give you your assignment.”
“What?” asked Mr. DiNunzio.
“Nobody tells Frank,” she said. “Agreed?”
Around the table, each of the old men nodded. Conspirators, covered with confectioner’s sugar.
30
As soon as Marlene Bello answered the screen door of her brick rowhouse, Judy could see what Tony-From-Down-The-Block had meant. She was wreathed in the scent of a spicy perfume, her dark red hair was wrapped into a neat French twist, and her big brown eyes were expertly made-up. She had a cute little nose and full lips emphasized by chic rust-colored lipstick. Marlene had to be sixty, and it looked womanly on her, as if she had earned honestly the smile lines around her eyes and mouth. “Can I help you?” she asked with one of those smiles.
“Yes. My name’s Judy Carrier, and I’d like to talk with you if I can. For just a minute.”
“Ha!” Marlene pursed glossy lips sympathetically. “Honey, I used to go door-to-door myself. Whaddaya sellin’?”
“I’m a lawyer. I—”
“A lawyer! You’re shittin’ me! They go door-to-door now?” She shifted her weight from one slim hip to the other, in black Spandex stirrup pants that clung to shapely, if short, legs. A pink T-shirt with a scoop neck revealed a small, gym-toned waist and a soft, natural décolletage. The whole package registered as European, except for the white letters across her chest that read MARY KAY COSMETICS. “Whaddaya got? Wills, contracts, like that?”
“No, I’m not selling anything, but I was wondering if I could come in. It’s private.” Judy felt nervous even though she had taken a cab here. Night was already falling. Her eyes swept the skinny city street. Nobody was out, and the beach chairs sat empty, in friendly little circles. The Phillies game was on, and the televisions in everybody’s front rooms flickered on the dark street like South Philly lightning. “It’s about your husband, Jimmy.”
“A lawyer looking for Jimmy? That’s unusual.” Marlene snorted. “Anyway, he doesn’t live here anymore. And you’ll never get the money he owes you.” She began to close the door, but Judy stuck her briefcase in the way. “Nice move,” Marlene said with ad
miration.
“Mrs. Bello—Marlene—please let me in. I need help, not money. I represent Tony Lucia—Pigeon Tony—against the Coluzzi brothers. I had Fat Jimmy in court yesterday, on the stand—”
“Shit, why didn’t you just say that? Any enemy of Jimmy’s is a friend of mine.” A huge smile broadened Marlene’s face, and the front door swung wide open.
Ten minutes later Judy was installed behind a pink mug of instant coffee at the white Formica in Marlene’s kitchen. It was the same size and shape as the DiNunzios’, but it was modern, lit coolly by an overhead fixture of Lucite. Cabinets of white laminate ringed the room, the counters were of lacquered butcher block, and the table and chairs had an IKEA style, which Judy mentioned to open the conversation.
Marlene laughed. “Are you kidding? I don’t build furniture. Please.” She sat down, tucking a calf underneath her and letting a black leather mule slip from a pedicured foot. “So what do you want to know, Miss Judy?”
Judy smiled. She felt cozy with Marlene, who reminded her of Mary on estrogen replacement. “To get right to it, you probably know that there is something of a vendetta going on between the Lucias and the Coluzzis.”
“Sure, everybody in South Philly knows that, but I don’t get real involved in the neighborhood anymore, sittin’ around with the girls in the coffee klatch like I used to. I have my own business now, with Mary Kay.” Her eyes scrutinized Judy’s. “You could use a little more foundation, you know. Especially with such a dark suit. What are you wearing, on your face?”
“Nothing.”
Marlene’s shadowed eyes widened. “No makeup?”
“No.”
“It’s not just a neutral look you got going?”
“No.”
“You’re shittin’ me!”
“I shit you not.”
Marlene laughed. “No wonder it looked so natural!”
“I’m an expert on natural. I have natural down to a science.”
Marlene laughed again. “That’s your problem! I could make you up, make your eyes look even bigger, and bring out the blue. For you, I would go with the Whipped Cocoa on the lid and White Sand up here, on the bone.” She pointed with a crimson- lacquered nail. “You could also use a blush, you know.”
“Lawyers don’t blush.”
“Then you need to buy it. We have powder and crème but for you I’d say the powder. Your best colors would be Teaberry and Desert Bloom.”
“Are you trying to sell me something?” Judy’s eyes narrowed, and Marlene smiled.
“Of course. It shows you what a great saleswoman I am. You come to my door, and I sell you.”
Judy clapped.
“I’m an independent sales director now. One of only eight thousand in the country. Got my pink Caddy and everything. I more than pay my mortgage, all by myself, and it all started with a hundred-dollar showcase. You can laugh, but it’s my own business.”
“I wasn’t laughing. Congratulations.”
“It’s just an expression. Thanks.” Marlene smiled and took a quick gulp of coffee. “Mary Kay is the bestselling brand of skin care and color cosmetics in the United States, six years running. They’re great products, take it from me. I’m an old dog under this paint.”
“Not at all.” Judy laughed.
“It’s true. And I wasn’t sellin’ you. It’s just that you seem like a nice girl and I can make you look a little prettier, is all. You wanna know about it, ask me.”
“Okay.”
“And you could use a crème lipstick. Something neutral. Mocha Freeze. Or Shell. I’ll give you a sample before you go.”
“Great.”
“So what do you wanna know?”
Judy sipped the thin coffee. “We were talking about the vendetta.”
“Okay. I see it made the papers, but I’ve known about it for a long time.”
“I get the impression that everybody in South Philly knows everybody else. Is that right?”
“Yes, it’s like a small town down here. Everybody knows everybody else’s habits, their cars, their kids, their problems. True, South Philly’s only an eight- or ten-block square. It used to be all Italian, but now it’s Italian plus Vietnamese, Korean, like that, south of Broad.” Marlene grabbed Judy’s teaspoon and hers and made a shiny line. “This is Broad Street, and you don’t cross Broad for the neighborhood. North of Broad is a little different, more like a twenty, twenty-five-block square on that side. It’s mostly still Italian, but you got some black. All middle-class, pay their bills. Everybody gets along. Good people.”
Judy blinked in wonder. “How do you know all this?”
“It’s my territory. You gotta know the territory. Like the Music Man says.” Marlene drank her coffee again. “Then you got Packer Park, which is like a place unto itself, and the Estates, which is the same, only ritzier. That’s where the Coluzzis live, by the way.”
Judy took out a pad and made a note.
“Write down that the homes cost five hundred grand and up. There’s a Mercedes in every driveway. Jimmy always wanted to move there, but not me. I’m old-fashioned. I love my house. I don’t like the mob snobs there.”
Judy smiled. “Mob snobs?”
“Everybody knows it.”
“Which Coluzzis live there? John or Marco?”
“All of them, and Angelo did, too. The wife still does, they all got the same model house, same upgrades, and all. Keepin’ up with the Coluzzis.”
Judy made another note. “So you probably knew that Pigeon Tony’s son and daughter-in-law were killed in a car accident last year, on the expressway.”
Marlene thought a minute. “I heard about that.”
“I’m investigating that crash, because I think Angelo Coluzzi was responsible for it, and if he was, then I bet Jimmy was, too.”
“Frankly, it’s possible.” Marlene’s smile vanished. “Jimmy’s business with Angelo, I didn’t know much about, and honestly, I didn’t want to. I was out all the time, working and building up my business. The less I knew, the better off I was.”
Judy sighed. “So you really didn’t know anything?”
“Not a thing.” Marlene shook her head regretfully.
“Do you know anything about John Coluzzi?”
“No.”
“About Marco?”
“Nope.”
“Anything about the Philly Court Shopping Center?”
“Sorry.”
Judy set down her pencil in disappointment. The visit had been a dry hole. Maybe Mr. D and The Tonys would find something.
“I’d like to help you but I can’t. Me and Jimmy lived two separate lives, just in the same house. He moved out last year, but it was over way before that.”
Maybe Judy could get some background. She picked up her pencil. “How did Angelo and Jimmy meet? Were you married then?”
“Sure, and Jimmy was sellin’ paint at the hardware store. Angelo used to go in there and they got to be friends, then Jimmy ended up working for him, and was gone all the time. His personality changed. He turned into a big bully. He let himself go. That’s when I think he started runnin’ around.”
“How much was he making working for Angelo, if you know? He said in court he only made fifteen thousand dollars.”
“Yeah, right, but that’s between him and the IRS. He had to take in at least a hundred grand, but it was all cash.” Her eyes glittered with a sudden ferocity, and she pointed at Judy. “And don’t think for one minute that I took blood money, because I didn’t. I’m no hypocrite. We didn’t even file jointly. I made my own money.”
Judy clapped again. Even though the visit was pointless, she was happy to have met Marlene. “I have to tell you, I don’t see how Jimmy could have left you. I don’t think he deserved you in the first place.”
“Thanks.” Marlene reached across the table and gave Judy’s hand a quick pat. “I don’t think he did either, but I didn’t know it then. He moved in with his young chippy, I hear. It’s supposedly the real thing
, this time.” She sighed audibly. “It was tough.”
“I bet.”
“Face it, the man is not good-looking. Who woulda thought? You know how I found out?”
“You didn’t catch him, did you?”
“In a way. On tape.”
Judy frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I had the phone tapped. I paid a guy to do it.”
“You tapped your own phone?”
“Damn straight.”
“That’s illegal. Criminal, even.”
Marlene nodded happily. “I was out all the time and Jimmy had the place to himself. He was on the phone, making whoopee with twenty-year-olds. Sometimes he used the cell, but mostly not. I listened to the tape of him talking to the new one. I didn’t believe it until I heard it with my own ears, and then I threw his ass out.”
Judy thought a minute. “You taped his phone calls, from when?”
“Let’s see, he’s been out less than a year. So about six or seven months before that.” Her eyes met Judy’s, and the two women had the same thought at the same time.
“Where are the tapes?” Judy asked, but Marlene was already out of her seat.
A colonial rowhouse, with authentically melony brick, contained Judy’s apartment, and she stepped out of the cab in front of the house, her backpack slung over one shoulder, her briefcase tucked under the other, and a big cardboard box full of cassette tapes in both arms. Also a pink bag filled with Mary Kay cosmetics she couldn’t resist buying, in gratitude, though she had taken a rain check on the free makeover. She had to get to work.
It was dark out, but the narrow street was full of people. Judy was for once happy to see the summer tourists crawling all over her Society Hill neighborhood, which was chockablock with restaurants, ice cream parlors, clothes and record stores, all open late. She didn’t feel safe unless she was in a crowd lately, and sometimes not even then.
Judy glanced around. The traffic was thick, and cars moved down the cobblestone street so slowly Judy could feel the heat from their idling engines. Attractive couples and families walked hand in hand on the sidewalk. Lots of Liberty Bell T-shirts and Bermuda shorts. Ice cream in costly waffle cones and kids holding red, white, and blue balloons. Not a broken nose or a Glock among them. Excellent.