Delancey was looking at the floor, shy, and then he was looking at the detectives, half smiling, and then he leaned forward to lift his coffee cup and take a gulp from it. The light from the lamp got in his eyes and he put a hand up to shield them. It could have been some freak result of camera placement, but the hand looked huge.
“I’m not clear on this, Jim.” Siegel sat looking across the table at him. “Nita Kohler attacked you tonight, on the terrace of her mother’s town house?”
“She attacked me tonight and every night since we met.”
“Why would anyone attack a guy like you? Especially a woman?”
“She wanted sex with me.”
“She wanted sex with you,” Siegel repeated with a kind of nonpressuring nonemphasis. “And how did you feel about that?”
“She didn’t turn me on.”
“Then why were you seeing her? Wasn’t she your girlfriend?”
“She thought she was.”
“If she wasn’t your girlfriend, what was your relationship?”
“She was my caseworker at Renaissance House.”
“That’s the drug rehab up on East Ninetieth?”
Delancey nodded.
“Jim Delancey indicates yes,” Malloy said.
Cardozo sensed in the image of the boy a brooding wonderment, as though somewhere along some line of coke he had lost track of how the reality outside his head was built, of what cause led to what effect.
“Are you an addict?” Siegel asked.
“I’m a recovering addict.”
“Did you do drugs tonight?”
He nodded. “I did a little coke.”
“Jim Delancey indicates yes,” Malloy said.
“Did Nita Kohler take drugs tonight?” Siegel asked.
“She took a hit,” Delancey said.
“Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened tonight,” Siegel suggested. “Start from the beginning. Where did you two meet?”
“We met at Achilles Foot,” Delancey said. “Like always.”
“That’s a bar?”
He nodded.
“Jim Delancey indicates yes,” Malloy said.
“She wanted to talk about where our relationship was going. She was very hurt and said we should go to her place and talk, because no one was home. So we went there, and she said how much she loved me and how could I hurt her by seeing other girls. I told her this was bullshit. Her hand came out zap , like that, and she scratched my face. See?”
Cardozo pressed the Pause button and froze the frame. Scabs dotted the right side of Delancey’s face from his eye down to his mouth. You could connect the dots and see what had been a superficial abrasion.
Cardozo restarted the tape and when Delancey’s voice came up again, he was aware of how gratingly whiny it sounded.
“I said that’s it, fuck you and adios, and before I knew it she was attacking me again.”
“And you defended yourself?” The way Siegel put it was halfway between question and statement. There was absolutely no tone of judgment. If anything, Siegel’s voice and manner suggested it would have been the most natural thing in the world for this poor guy to defend himself against a crazed, drugged-up virago.
“I put my arms up to protect my face.”
“Did you push her away?”
“I didn’t touch the bitch.”
Cardozo pressed the Off button. The picture on the screen froze for one split instant and then fractured into black-and-white static.
ELLIE SIEGEL WAS STILL AT HER DESK , typing up the day’s notes.
“Tell me about the Kohler-Delancey case,” Cardozo said.
Ellie sighed. “My second homicide. All cases should be that easy.”
“There’s not the slightest doubt in your mind he killed her.”
“More to the point, there wasn’t the slightest doubt in the jury’s mind. Seven hours to convict.”
“The medical report mentions a straight-line bruise on the palm of Nita’s left hand.”
Ellie fixed softly piercing eyes on him. “You’ve been excavating some pretty old paper.”
“Nita was right-handed.”
Ellie nodded. “I know, I know, and she would have fended off a blow with her right hand and not her left. But Delancey had a
“I’m not clear on this, Jim.” Siegel sat looking across the table at him. “Nita Kohler attacked you tonight, on the terrace of her mother’s town house?”
“She attacked me tonight and every night since we met.”
“Why would anyone attack a guy like you? Especially a woman?”
“She wanted sex with me.”
“She wanted sex with you,” Siegel repeated with a kind of nonpressuring nonemphasis. “And how did you feel about that?”
“She didn’t turn me on.”
“Then why were you seeing her? Wasn’t she your girlfriend?”
“She thought she was.”
“If she wasn’t your girlfriend, what was your relationship?”
“She was my caseworker at Renaissance House.”
“That’s the drug rehab up on East Ninetieth?”
Delancey nodded.
“Jim Delancey indicates yes,” Malloy said.
Cardozo sensed in the image of the boy a brooding wonderment, as though somewhere along some line of coke he had lost track of how the reality outside his head was built, of what cause led to what effect.
“Are you an addict?” Siegel asked.
“I’m a recovering addict.”
“Did you do drugs tonight?”
He nodded. “I did a little coke.”
“Jim Delancey indicates yes,” Malloy said.
“Did Nita Kohler take drugs tonight?” Siegel asked.
“She took a hit,” Delancey said.
“Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened tonight,” Siegel suggested. “Start from the beginning. Where did you two meet?”
“We met at Achilles Foot,” Delancey said. “Like always.”
“That’s a bar?”
He nodded.
“Jim Delancey indicates yes,” Malloy said.
“She wanted to talk about where our relationship was going. She was very hurt and said we should go to her place and talk, because no one was home. So we went there, and she said how much she loved me and how could I hurt her by seeing other girls. I told her this was bullshit. Her hand came out zap , like that, and she scratched my face. See?”
Cardozo pressed the Pause button and froze the frame. Scabs dotted the right side of Delancey’s face from his eye down to his mouth. You could connect the dots and see what had been a superficial abrasion.
Cardozo restarted the tape and when Delancey’s voice came up again, he was aware of how gratingly whiny it sounded.
“I said that’s it, fuck you and adios, and before I knew it she was attacking me again.”
“And you defended yourself?” The way Siegel put it was halfway between question and statement. There was absolutely no tone of judgment. If anything, Siegel’s voice and manner suggested it would have been the most natural thing in the world for this poor guy to defend himself against a crazed, drugged-up virago.
“I put my arms up to protect my face.”
“Did you push her away?”
“I didn’t touch the bitch.”
Cardozo pressed the Off button. The picture on the screen froze for one split instant and then fractured into black-and-white static.
ELLIE SIEGEL WAS STILL AT HER DESK , typing up the day’s notes.
“Tell me about the Kohler-Delancey case,” Cardozo said.
Ellie sighed. “My second homicide. All cases should be that easy.”
“There’s not the slightest doubt in your mind he killed her.”
“More to the point, there wasn’t the slightest doubt in the jury’s mind. Seven hours to convict.”
“The medical report mentions a straight-line bruise on the palm of Nita’s left hand.”
Ellie fixed softly piercing eyes on him. “You’ve been excavating some pretty old paper.”
“Nita was right-handed.”
Ellie nodded. “I know, I know, and she would have fended off a blow with her right hand and not her left. But Delancey had a
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