Ed McBain - Pusher

"He shot Carella, didn't he?" Byrnes asked. He reached into his wallet and took out a ten-dollar bill. "Here, Danny," he said, offering the money.

Danny shook his head. "No, Lieutenant, thanks."

Byrnes stared at him unbelievingly.

"One thing you can do for me, though," Danny said, somewhat embarrassed.

"What's that?"

"I'd like to go upstairs. I'd like to see Steve."

Byrnes hesitated a moment. Then he walked to the desk and said, "I'm Detective-Lieutenant Byrnes. This man is working on the case with us. I'd like him to go upstairs."

"Yes, sir," the girl said, and then she looked over toward Danny Gimp who was smiling from ear to ear.

Chapter Fifteen

They caught Dickie Collins on Christmas Eve.

They caught him as he was coming out of church, where he had just lighted a candle for his dead grandmother.

They took him to the Squad Room of the 87th Precinct, and four detectives surrounded him there. One of the detectives was Peter Byrnes. The others were Havilland, Meyer and Willis.

"What's your name?" Willis asked.

"Dickie Collins. Richard."

"What aliases do you go by?" Havilland asked.

"None."

"Ever own a gun?" Meyer asked.

"No. Never."

"Know Aníbal Hernandez?" Byrnes asked.

"The name sounds familiar."

"Did you know him, or didn't you?"

"Yeah, I knew him, I guess. I knew lots of kids in the neighborhood."

"When did you move?"

"Coupla months ago."

"Why?"

"My old man got a new job. I go where he goes."

"Did you want to move?"

"Makes no difference. I'm a free agent. I travel where I want to, no matter where I live. What's all the questions for? What did I do?"

"What were you doing on the night of December 17th?"

"How do I know? When the hell was that, anyway?"

"A week ago today."

"I don't remember."

"Were you with Hernandez?"

"I don't remember."

"Start trying to remember."

"No, I wasn't with Hernandez. What was that, a Saturday night?"

"It was a Sunday night."

"No, I wasn't with him."

"Where were you?"

"In church."

"What?"

"I go to church every Sunday night. I light candles for my grandmother."

"How long did you stay in church?"

"About an hour. I say a coupla prayers, too."

"From what time to what time?"

"From about… from about ten to eleven."

"And then what'd you do?"

"I drifted around."

"Who saw you drifting?"

"Nobody. What do I need witnesses for? You trying to hang the Hernandez kill on me?"

"What makes you think he was killed?"

"He hung himself," Collins said.

"Okay, but what made you call it a kill?"

"A suicide's a kill, ain't it?"

"Why should we try to hang a suicide on you?"

"How do I know? What else you got me in here for, if not that? You're asking questions about that night, ain't you? You're asking me if I knew Annabelle, ain't you?"

"You did know him."

"Sure, I knew him."

"From the neighborhood or from the Sea Scouts?"

"What Sea Scouts?"

"In Riverhead."

"Oh, you mean the Junior Navals. That ain't the Sea Scouts. Yeah, yeah."

"Where'd you know Mm from?"

"I used to say hello when I lived in the neighborhood. Then, when I met him at the Navals, we got a little friendly."

"Why'd you say you guessed you knew him? If you got friendly, then you knew him."

"Okay, I knew him. Is that a crime?"

"Why'd you go to the Navals?"

"I didn't belong. I only went to watch the marching. I like to watch guys march."

"You'll do a lot of marching where you're going," Havilland said.

"Yeah, you got to send me there first, cop. I still ain't heard no charge. Are you booking or just looking?"

"You're a pusher, aren't you, Collins?"

"You're dreaming."

"We've got three kids who made a buy from you. One is ready to identify you."

"Yeah? What's his name?"

"Hemingway."

"What're the other two called? Sinclair Lewis and William Faulkner?"

"You read a lot, Collins?"

"Enough."

"This kid Hemingway doesn't read. He's a junkie. He bought a sixteenth of heroin from you on the afternoon of December 20th. One of our detectives nabbed him right after he made the buy."

"So that's why I was being fol…" Collins cut himself short.

"What?"

"I didn't say nothing. If your Hemingway made a buy, he didn't get it from me."

"He said he did. He said it came from you."

"I don't know what a sixteenth of H looks like."

"Did you know Hernandez was a junkie?"

"Yeah."

"He ever shoot up with you?"

"No."

"You never saw him shoot up?"

"No."

"How do you know he was a junkie?"

"Word gets around."

"Ever see him with any other junkies?"

"Sure."

"Who?"

"I don't know their names."

"Ever see him with a junkie named Larry Byrnes?" Byrnes asked.

Collins blinked.

"I said Larry Byrnes," Byrnes repeated.

"Never heard of him," Collins said.

"Think hard. He's my son."

"No kidding? I didn't think cops had junkie sons."

"Did you happen to see my son on the night of December 17th?"

"I wouldn't know your son from a hole in the wall."

"How about the morning of December 18th?"

"I still don't know him, night or morning. How would I know him?"

"He knew Hernandez."

"Lots of guys knew Hernandez. Hernandez was a pusher, didn't you know that?" Collins paused. "Hell, he even pushed at the Navals."

"We knew it. How'd you know it?"

"I seen him sell a couple of times."

"To whom?"

"I don't remember. Listen, you think I know the names of every junkie in the neighborhood? I never fooled with that crap myself."

"You fooled with it on the twentieth, Collins. Two days after we found Hernandez dead, you were fooling with it."

"This Hemingway kid used to be one of Hernandez' customers."

"Yeah? Maybe he bought that sixteenth from Hernandez' ghost, then."

"He bought it from you."

"You're gonna have a hell of a time proving that, cop."

"Maybe not. We've had a man following you for the past few days."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So why didn't he pinch me? Listen, you find any stuff on me when you pulled me in? What am I here for, huh? I want a lawyer."

"You're here on suspicion of murder," Byrnes said.

"You mean…" Again, Collins stopped short.

"What, Collins?"

"Nothing. Hernandez hung himself. Just try pinning that one on me."

"Hernandez died of an overdose."

"Yeah? So he was careless."

"Who put that rope around his neck, Collins?"

"Maybe your son did, Lieutenant. How about that?"

"How do you know my rank?"

"What?"

"If you don't know my son, and if you don't know anything about my son, how the hell do you know my rank?"

"One of your bulls called you Lieutenant. What do you think?"

"Nobody's called me anything since you got here, Collins. Now how about it?"

"I guessed. You look like you got leadership qualities, so I figured you were the boss. Okay?"

"Larry says he knows you," Byrnes lied.

"Who's Larry?"

"My son."

"Yeah? Lots of guys know me who I don't know. I'm popular."

"Why? Because you're pushing junk?"

"Only thing I ever pushed was my sister's baby carriage. Get off that kick, cop. It leads nowhere."

"Let's try another kick, Collins. Let's try cards."

"What about them? Want to play some?"

"You ever play cards?"

"Sure, I do."

"You ever play with a kid named Batman Di Luca?"

"Sure."

"Who else was in that game?"

"Which game?"

"The night you played."

"I played cards with Batman a lot. He can't play to save his ass. I always win."

"What's a gunsel, Collins?"