“I’m not playing anything. Think about it. From the very beginning, square one, all clues lead directly to Vanessa Santiago. Even down to the Magnum. She bought it.”
“Circumstantial. DeVicente told her what to do. Planned everything meticulously to the minutest detail. Made it look like it was her. She was too far gone to realize what he was doing.”
“How do we prove that?” He sounded smug. “DeVicente’s dead, thanks to you.”
“And so is Vanessa, thanks to you. You knew about this neat little wrap-up, didn’t you? Knew heavy pressure was coming down from all over. So when you located Vanessa you made sure there’d be no one left who could unravel your tidy package. I trusted you, Joe. Believed in you and respected you. Tell me something, that day I was ordered to be brought in — you never expected me to really give it up, did you?”
“You’re one of the best minds I’ve ever known, Yvonne. I believed your hunches from the start. I was counting on having you go it alone. Do it your way. Knew you’d find some angle to lead us all to the killer if anyone could.”
“So you were waiting at South Street. I was your decoy to lead you to Armageddon.”
“Of course. Resnick had you spotted. We followed. Same as that black kid on your tail.”
“You mean Roy Ingram?”
“He was a wild card we didn’t expect.”
She slumped in a chair. “You didn’t play this one fair, Joe.”
“You wanted it your way, and I gave you all the rope you needed. All I did was tie up a few loose ends. Armageddon is a closed case. Both suspects are dead now, anyway. And we can’t bring them back. What difference does it make now if Vanessa is remembered as the bomber and DeVicente as her dupe, instead of the other way round?”
“What difference? For openers, what about a poor grieving woman named Nadia Santiago? She’ll go to her grave in misery believing that her daughter was a brutal killer.”
He lowered his gaze.
“And we’ve been compromised,” Yvonne went on. “All of P.D., not only TTF. We’re cops, Joe. Our job is to hunt down criminals — ”
“Right. It’s not our job to convict them. Only stop them, if we’re lucky.” He turned his back to her, staring out the window. “You have serious choices to make, DiPalma. Go along, play the game, and your career is all but assured. Those bright camera lights will be focused on you when we go downstairs. You can take the credit, share it, whatever. Or you can tell them what we’ve discussed. Cause a great many people even more misery than they already have. In which case you’ll topple not only your own future but hurt P.D. badly as well. And for what? Is it worth it, Yvonne? All that really matters is that we’ve ended the bombings. The city is safe from Armageddon. Two very dangerous people are off the streets for good. But as I said, the decision is yours.”
She got up, put on her jacket, and started to leave.
“I’m not accepting your resignation yet, Yvonne. Mull it over, will you? Don’t throw away everything you’ve worked for. Take some time off. I’ll sign the papers today. Get to know your family again. Feel human. You’ve earned it.”
Yvonne left his office without saying a word.
Warren was pensively waiting for her in the hallway.
He put his arm around her. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t like it much either. But I want you to know one thing: I had no part in what Winnegar was doing.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “I know you didn’t.” Then sniffing, she said, “Resnick, you’re the best damn partner any cop ever had.”
“What are you going to say down there later?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know, Warren. I don’t know what to do. How about you?”
“Doesn’t matter much to me. I’ve made a decision. I’m going to leave P.D. Thought about it long and hard. I’m tired of the life, Yvonne. No more future in it for me. Figure I got away lucky, and leave it at that. Some of us didn’t.”
She held his hand tightly in her own. “I still care, Warren. More than someone like me should. I want you to remember that.”
“Hey, I’m not dropping off the face of the earth.”
“Look, call me in a few days. We’ll have dinner or something.”
“Any time, any place. You and I aren’t done yet, DiPalma. Did more thinking than just about P.D. First, though, I have a life to try and straighten out, then we’ll see.”
“If you ever do, detective, I’ll be there waiting.”
He kissed her and held her tightly. Not caring at the curious eyes of onlookers standing by the elevators.
“Guess we have to go,’ she said.
He took her arm as they went into the elevator. Warren pressed the button. “Before we tackle this press conference there’s somebody that needs to speak with you. I sneaked him inside the building … ”
The doors opened before she could ask. Warren led her to a small conference room. He closed the door behind as she stepped in. Sitting on a couch, thick bandages under his shirt, was Roy Ingram.
“I’d get up but it hurts.” He smiled.
“Don’t even try, Roy.” She shook his hand. “I owe you. I just want you to know that.”
“You don’t owe me a thing, Yvonne. It was my promise.”
She was perplexed. “I don’t understand.”
“That night, when you an’ Link came to court, remember?”
“Sure.”
“Well after we dropped you off, Link asked me a favor. He said that I should follow you. As long as necessary while you were doin’ this case. Said I should watch where you was goin’, make sure that you were kept safe. Threatened to beat my ass if I let him down. Told me he didn’t trust no cops to do this kind of work.”
Again there were tears welling. “Link told you to do that?”
He nodded. “Also told me that should anything ever happen to him, I was to be there day and night for you. Man, he forced me to swear it to him. So after … after he died, I staked you out. Down in the Village, I followed you everywhere you went. Remember the night you got stuck in that subway? I was there, in the next car. Also on the ferryboat. When that guy DeVicente first took out his gun, I knocked him over. Stopped him from getting off a clear shot. Gave you time to shoot back. Damn, I thought it was rough on the streets.”
She was speechless. “Roy … you probably saved my life.”
“Link saved mine. More than once. In many ways.” Tears showed in his own eyes. “I loved that big sucker, Yvonne. The only father I ever had. Guess this makes us more than even.”
“We both loved him, Roy.” Her hand went to his shoulder. He was trying not to cry but was losing the struggle. She searched her pocketbook for a cigarette, came up with an empty pack. She crushed it and tossed it into a wastepaper basket. “At South Street, you almost got yourself killed because of me,” she said.
“Lotta blood. Doctors said I was lucky. I knew better. Me, I’m used to street fights. When he swung the knife I knew how to turn. Caught me anyhow, but not as bad. Your friend Warren helped me get outta there. Came flyin’ into the warehouse with that captain. He carried me out, but he kept askin’ about you. I was bleeding all over the damn fool, but all he could talk about was you. Not to worry, my man, I told him. Said that DiPalma was the best. Eased his mind. Know something? I think that sucker is in love with you.”
She smiled sadly. Listening to Roy she could almost hear Link speaking.
“What you gonna do now, DiPalma?”
“Huh?” He’d caught her with wandering memories. She rubbed her temples. “I have a press conference to go to. You know, lotta jerks looking for a story and a hero. What about you? Are you all right? Do you need anything? If I can help, money, anything — ”
“Hey, I’m gonna be just fine. Doctors say I’ll be up and around in weeks.”
“Back to basketball?”
“Yeah. It’s all I got.”
“You’ll make a fine pro.”
“Naw. Not me. Ain’t got enough speed o
r height. Tell you what, though. Gonna use the game to my advantage.”
“How do you mean?”
“Spoke with my teacher. Says that I can graduate next year if I put my head into the books. Also says that there’s a lotta fine schools out there gonna offer me a scholarship to play for them. Imagine that.”
“Colleges?”
“Sure. Get me a free education. Be somebody. Be something.”
“What do you want to be, Roy?”
He shrugged. “I guess more than anything, a good cop.”
“Like Link?”
“Sure. And like you.”
Yvonne turned away.
“You okay, Yvonne?”
She blew her nose. “Gonna be fine. You know how women are.”
He grinned. “Yeah. I been around.”
“You take good care of yourself, Roy. And thank you.”
“Hey, for what?”
“For suddenly making a lot of things a lot clearer to me.” He didn’t seem to understand. “It’s all right,” she said as she left the room. “Catch you later.”
Roy Ingram waved. “Yeah, Yvonne, later. Say maybe Five or six years when I join the force.”
Yvonne found herself alone out in the hallway. She took out her compact and lipstick, combed her hair and made herself look presentable. Then she got into the elevator and went down to the lobby.
It was jammed with press and police. Warren was there waiting for her, and so was Spinrad, looking grouchy and uncomfortable. Yvonne smiled at them both and gave a thumbs-up sign. Camera shutters snapped all round, and bright television lights glared down at her. From the corner of her eye she saw Fran standing in the crowd.
Fran was frantically trying to catch her attention. Yvonne stopped and looked with joy at the presence of her sister. There was no anger in Fran’s eyes. No blame to be thrown, no recriminations. Only happiness for Yvonne in this moment of achievement.
There was no time now for them to talk or to share, at least not until this was over. Later, though, there would be all the time in the world. Yvonne vowed then and there to not let anything interfere.
You’d have been proud of me, Mama, she said in her thoughts. The same way I was always proud of you.
Several uniformed police hustled away a handful of eager reporters as they threw questions at the detective who’d solved the Armageddon case. They made it possible for Yvonne to weave through the crowd and reach the dais.
She was ready at last for the onslaught, she knew. At first sight of her, both the mayor and the commissioner began to applaud.
Head held high, shoulders thrown back, she took a deep breath and walked proudly into the room and the waiting spotlights. Her ID was pinned to her sweater. Yvonne DiPalma, Detective, N.Y.P.D.
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