Эд Макбейн - ’Til Death

Teddy looked up at him. He could read in an instant any nuance on her mobile face. Deprived of speech since birth, her face had become a tool of expression so that meaning was instantly transmitted through her eyes and lips. He had expected displeasure at his announcement but, reading her face now, he saw only puzzlement and realized she had not “heard” him. Standing behind her as he’d spoken, he had not shown her his lips to read. He knelt beside her chair now.

“Bert and I are going to the church in Tommy’s car. Is that all right with you?”

There was still no displeasure on her face. The puzzlement remained, and with it came a suspicious narrowing of the eyes. He knew in that moment that he had not fooled his wife. He had not told her of the incident with the black widow spider, but Teddy Carella — in her silent world — had already fathomed that something was amiss. The presence of Hawes and Kling was not the fulfillment of a social amenity. They were here as policemen, not wedding guests. She nodded, and then reached up to kiss him.

“I’ll see you at the church,” he said. “Are you all right?”

She nodded again. Her back was still killing her, but she sensed her husband had more important things on his mind than the trials of pregnancy. She flashed a sudden, radiant smile. Carella squeezed her hand. “Come on, Bert,” he said.

A black Cadillac limousine was parked in the driveway on the blind side of the Giordano house when Carella and Kling arrived. The car sat far back from the street, at the end of the concrete strips, close to the garage. The driver was nowhere in sight.

As they walked up onto the front porch, Kling said, “I make it for a gag, Steve. I think we’re going to a lot of trouble for nothing.”

“Well, maybe,” Carella answered, and he rang the doorbell. “It doesn’t hurt to be careful, though, does it?”

“I guess not. I get the feeling, however, that Cotton would much rather be elsewhere with his blonde.” He paused. “But... that’s show biz.”

“Huh?” Carella said, and Tommy opened the door.

“Steve, hi! Come on in. I was just dressing. Do you know how to tie a bow tie? I’ve been trying for the past half-hour and getting nowhere. Come on in.” He looked at Kling curiously.

“Bert Kling,” Carella said, “Tommy Giordano, my future brother-in-law. Bert’s with the squad, Tommy.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. Come on in. I feel pretty silly about all this, Steve. I think it’s a gag.”

Kling caught Carella’s eye. “Well, gag or not,” Carella said, “Bert and another friend of mine will be at the wedding and the reception.”

“I appreciate what you’re doing, Steve,” Tommy said, “but in thinking it over, I’m pretty sure it was a gag. Come on into the bedroom, will you?”

They followed him through the house. In the bedroom, Tommy took a white tie from the dresser top and handed it to Carella. “Here,” he said. “See what you can do with this damn thing, will you?”

He faced Carella. He lifted his chin, and Carella began working on the tie.

“I checked on Sokolin,” Carella said.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want you to start worrying... but he’s in this city. Got out of jail in April.”

“Oh.”

“Still think it’s a gag?”

“Gee, I don’t know. You think a guy would carry a grudge all this time? For something that happened in Korea? Or really, for something that didn’t even—”

“Were you in Korea?” Kling asked, interested.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.”

“Army?”

“Yeah.”

“I was in the Signal Corps,” Tommy said. “With the Tenth Army Corps at the Inchon landings.”

“I was in on the Seoul liberation,” Kling said. “With the Ninth Corps.”

“Under General Walker?”

“Yes.”

“Hell, we linked up with the First and Ninth around Seoul!” Tommy said. “Jesus, I’ll bet we were close enough to touch.”

“You were on the drive to the Yalu?”

“Sure.”

“How do you like that?” Kling said. “It’s a small world, all right.”

“And you’re a cop now, huh?”

“Yes. What are you doing?”

“I work in a bank,” Tommy said. “I’m training to be an executive.” He shrugged. “It’s not really what I want to be.”

“What do you want to be?”

“I’d like to be a baseball announcer. I used to be a pretty good catcher when I was a kid. I know the game inside out and backwards. Ask Jonesy when he gets back.” He turned to Carella. “You didn’t happen to see him downstairs, did you?”

“Who?” Carella said. “There. Your tie’s tied.”

“Jonesy. My best man. My best friend, too. He went downstairs about a half-hour ago, said he needed some air.”

“Was he in a monkey suit?”

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t see anybody dressed for a wedding. Did you, Bert?”

“No.”

“Well, he’ll be back,” Tommy said. “Jesus, I hope he has the ring. What time is it, Steve?”

“Two o’clock. You’ve still got an hour. Relax.”

“Well, I’m supposed to get there a little earlier, you know. I’ve got to go back to the rectory. I’m not supposed to see the bride until she comes down the aisle. Your mother is a lulu, Steve.”

“How so?”

“I’m not complaining. She’ll probably make an excellent mother-in-law. But I called a little while ago, and she wouldn’t even let me talk to Angela. That’s going a little far, don’t you think?”

“She was dressing,” Carella said.

“Yeah?” Tommy’s eyes glowed. “How does she look? Beautiful, I’ll bet.”

“Beautiful.”

“Yeah, I knew it. Was she nervous?”

“Very.”

“Me, too. You want some coffee?”

“No, thanks.”

“A little drink?”

“No. Do you want to hear about Sokolin?”

“Sokolin? Who’s—? Oh, sure. Sure.” Tommy pulled on his jacket. “There. I’m all set. How do I look? Did I shave close enough?”

“You shaved close enough.”

“I’ll probably need another one by the time we check in tonight. I’ve got a heavy beard. You blond guys are lucky, Bert. Do I look all right, Steve? Is the tie straight?”

“The tie’s straight.”

“Good. Then I’m ready to go. You think we ought to leave now? It’s past two, isn’t it?”

“I think you ought to do something before you leave,” Carella said.

“Yeah? What?”

“Put on your pants.”

Tommy looked down at his hairy legs. “Oh, God! Oh, Jesus! Boy, am I glad you’re here! How could a guy forget to do something he does every day of his life? Boy!” He shucked the jacket and took his black trousers from a hanger in the closet. “What about Sokolin?”

“He spent a year in jail because he got into an argument about his dead Korean buddy.”

“That doesn’t sound so good.”

“It sounds pretty lousy. I don’t imagine he’s got much love in his heart for you.”

A knock sounded at the front door. Tommy looked up and then slipped his suspenders over his shoulders. “Steve, would you get that, please? It’s probably Jonesy.”

Carella went to the front door and opened it. The boy standing there was about Tommy’s age, twenty-six or twenty-seven. He wore his brown hair short. His gray eyes were alight with excitement. He looked very handsome in his tuxedo and his white starched shirt-front. Seeing Carella’s similar uniform, he extended his hand and said, “Hi. Usher?”

“Nope. Relative,” Carella said. He took the hand. “Steve Carella. Brother of the bride.”

“Sam Jones. Best man. Call me Jonesy.”

“Okay.”

“How’s our groom?”

“Nervous.”