John Lutz - Fear the Night

“Lou-”

“Do this for me as an old friend. Ask Lora again. After last night, things have changed. She’ll see that, I’m sure.”

“Did the chief ask you to call me?”

“The mayor asked.”

Repetto didn’t know whether to believe him. Melbourne could be deceptive, relentless, and remarkably persuasive. That was why he’d been promoted over so many cops with more seniority. Why he’d be chief of department someday, and possibly even commissioner if he didn’t stumble over his own ambition like so many before him. Melbourne wouldn’t lie to Repetto directly, because he was too wily to have to lie, but he could massage the truth until it sighed and surrendered to him.

The bare facts were out there. The Night Sniper had killed twice because he didn’t like Repetto’s answer. If Repetto didn’t change his answer, two more people would die, and soon. Maybe he’d kill more people anyway, but those two, like the two last night, would be Repetto’s responsibility. That was the way the Night Sniper thought.

The way Repetto thought.

“I’ll talk to Lora,” he said.

“Thanks, Vin. You’re gonna prevent a lotta blood being shed.” Repetto had never heard Melbourne sound more sincere. “I’m gonna hang up now before you change your mind.”

And Melbourne was gone.

Repetto killed his cell phone and sat for a moment staring at it. Blood …

He took his time with his coffee, reading the rest of the paper casually, until he got to page two of the front section and his name jumped out at him. Someone had leaked the reason why the Night Sniper had claimed his last two victims, and what he wanted. There it was in the Times , the paper of record.

He wanted Repetto.

Repetto wanted a piece of cake. He hadn’t realized it had been so long since lunch, and he and Lora had cabbed to the Upper West Side where their daughter, Amelia, had an apartment that she subleased so cheap she didn’t mind taking the subway five or six days a week down to NYU, where she was a senior in prelaw.

Amelia was a slender girl with her mother’s fine features, luminous smile, and thick blond hair. She was proud of her golden hair and wore it combed back and in a long braid that hung to her waist. Today she was twenty-one, and celebrating with her family and best friends. Besides Repetto and Lora, there were Mar, older and grayer than when she and her partner Mel had healed and raised a teenage Repetto; Dal; and a girl named Peggy that Amelia knew from college. A small group, but close.

“We’re going to sing,” Dal said, after Lora had finished lighting the candles on a cake brought by Mar.

Amelia shot her great smile and shook her head, but the singing had already begun.

Repetto had a voice like a cracked foghorn, so he kept his volume down. He didn’t like the way Peggy was looking at Dal, who seemed to be paying no attention to her. Good. Maybe someday Dal and Amelia would see each other differently. Less like brother and sister. So Repetto and Lora hoped. But some things you couldn’t force. Repetto told himself to grow up at his late age. If Dal happened to prefer somebody like Peggy, who was a beautiful young brunette, then so be it. Some things were beyond a father’s control.

“What are you thinking, Dad?”

Repetto realized “Happy Birthday” was over. “Thinking you should make a wish.”

Amelia did, closing her eyes briefly, then pursing her lips and emitting two gusts of breath before all twenty-one candles were extinguished. Lora and Repetto exchanged a look, knowing they were both making their own wish. Mar saw them, grinned, and shook her head. Dal didn’t notice. Peggy appeared momentarily mystified.

“So what was the wish?” Dal asked.

“That she’d make it through law school,” Peggy said, giving Amelia’s long braid a playful tug.

While everyone was laughing, Mar made her way over to Repetto. She was in her eighties now, whipcord lean and wizened, but with carefully permed white hair and alert brown eyes. She looked like one of those people who might live forever. Repetto wished she could.

“You okay, Vin?” she asked. “You look sort of pensive.”

“A lot to think about, I guess.”

“Yeah, you always did think too much to be completely happy.”

“Is there such a thing as complete happiness?”

“Naw.” She patted his arm and moved away.

Dal came up to Repetto as the cake was being cut and drew him aside, until they were standing a few feet inside the kitchen.

“I can’t believe Mar came all the way from Philadelphia by train for this, at her age,” Dal said. “She’s a helluva lady.”

“You’ll never know.”

“Michaels tells me I should test up for lieutenant,” Dal said. “I’d be doing Street Narcotics Enforcement.”

“Running a unit?”

“Before long.”

“Not a bad career move.”

“I want the shortest route to make detective, like you are.”

“Were,” Repetto corrected.

Dal grinned. “Word’s around you’re getting the call to go after the Night Sniper.”

Repetto sighed. “The NYPD leaks like the Titanic. Got an underwater budget, too.”

“You considering it?”

“We’re opening gifts,” Lora called from the living room.

“The beer’s not in the fridge, you two,” Amelia shouted. “It’s out here in a cooler.”

Repetto and Dal laughed. “She’s got us figured,” Dal said.

“Always has,” Repetto said. “We’ll finish this talk tomorrow morning.”

Repetto hooked up with Dal Bricker the next morning where they often met, away from the apartment. Dal would leave the unmarked he was driving parked off Fourteenth Street, and they would stroll.

It was a clear morning, with the sun glancing warm off the buildings. The kind of morning Repetto liked most in New York. Night had been chased away. The sights and smells and sounds were as newly created. Anything might happen. City of promise.

“Lora told me about what Melbourne wants from you,” Dal said. He was a taller, heavier figure in the corner of Repetto’s vision. Walking next to someone larger was an unfamiliar sensation for Repetto.

“I figured she would. No secrets. What do you think?”

“I think it’s your call.”

“What if it wasn’t just my call, Dal? What if I asked for your advice?”

Bricker grinned as Repetto looked over at him: big, broad guy with curly black hair, looked like he should be a country-western star. Why can’t Amelia see a future with this man? Maybe they’ve been too close-more than friends, less than lovers-and can only think of themselves more as siblings than as a man and woman who might feel a mutual attraction.

Sometimes it made Repetto ache when he thought how happy Dal and Amelia could be. Not that it mattered what he thought. It was just that people were so damned blind when it came to the future.

“I’m usually the one asking for advice,” Dal said.

“Not this time,” Repetto said.

Bricker took a deep, noisy breath. “What I think you should do is what Melbourne is asking.”

“You’ve given it some thought?”

“Lots, since I talked with Lora. Bottom line is, I figure you’ve got an obligation. I didn’t tell Lora that, but I’ve thought so from the start.”

“Well,” Repetto said, after a dozen more strides, “I asked you.”

“Lora’s gonna come around to your way of thinking anyway,” Bricker said.

“ My way ? You think I want to tag on to this nutcase killer?”

“C’mon, Vin. You know damn well you do.”

“Ordinarily I’d agree with you. But there comes a time in every marriage. .”

“Yeah. Like I said, it’s your call and yours only.” But that wasn’t the way Bricker was looking at Repetto. Damn kid always knew what was in his mind.