a car in the shadows, drinking bad coffee, and waiting for him to show up so you can, what…
tail
him?"
"Yeah."
I looked for the ironic smile, a sign that he was kidding, exaggerating at least. He was perfectly serious. "You guys were in your own B-movie. What did you find out?"
"We found out Angelo DiBiasi's got balls bigger than his brains. Poor bastard. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm sitting in the truck down by the freight house waiting for Little Pete to show up, and Angie rolls by a in a tug dragging a TV set on a dolly. I caught up with him just as he was loading it into his car."
"What happened with Little Pete?"
"Busting Angie basically blew my cover."
"And you never found out why Ellen was after him?"
He shook his head. "I assumed she got a tip from her snitch."
"Snitch?"
"She had a snitch down on the ramp, a guy who used to tip her off."
Of course she did. "Why don't you just ask the snitch what it was about?"
"I don't know who the guy is. She kept it a secret to protect him." He must have noticed a hint of skepticism in my expression. "I know this doesn't make much sense," he said, "but it will. Ellen always made sense. I just don't have all the pieces yet."
"What reason would Little Pete have to kill Ellen?"
"I think it must have been for the package."
I stared at him.
"Oh, yeah. I didn't tell you this. One night I was at the airport later than usual, and Ellen comes into her office. She picks up the phone and starts talking to someone about something that's in this package. Then my phone rings, I answer it, and that's it. She knows I'm there. She gets up and closes the door, so that's all I got."
"How could you fail to mention that little detail?"
"Because so much stuff has been happening around here that I sometimes can't keep it all straight. And you're the first person I've been able to talk to about it. I figure he killed her for the package."
"You don't know that." We were jumping to some very large conclusions here with very few facts, something that was against my religion. "What could have been in this package?"
"I don't know. Could be she found out about one of Little Pete's scams, or the old man's. She could have had enough to fire their asses."
"He would have killed her to keep his job?" I tried not to sound as alarmed as I felt, but between this discussion and the one with Kevin, I felt my management prerogatives becoming more and more limited.
"She may have uncovered something that would put them both in jail. That would be enough to send Little Pete over the edge. He's not exactly the most stable guy to begin with."
"Is that where you've been disappearing to at night? To stake out Little Pete?"
"I've been trying to keep an eye on him, but it's impossible with just me. Near as I can figure, he's been AWOL four times since she died."
"Four times in nine days. When does he work?"
"He doesn't. That's what you saw on Sunday night. But his pop always covers for him, and none of his union brothers are going to rat him out." Dan was concentrating hard on one of the sugar packets left over from his coffee. He was folding it smaller and smaller until it was the size of a toothpick. "Where do you think he goes when he disappears like that?"
"To a bar," I guessed, "or home to sleep. Maybe to a girlfriend's house."
"He comes up here to Marblehead."
"Do you know that for sure?"
"One night I followed him halfway up here, but he must have spotted me because he turned around and went to a bar in Chelsea. Then tonight I find out the old guy, the landlord, he's been complaining to the police about someone coming in and out of Ellen's house in the middle of the night."
"That would be you, wouldn't it?"
"No. The cops assumed it was me but it wasn't, because if I could walk in the front door, why would I be climbing through the friggin' window?"
I had to think about that. Dan used a logic that was uniquely his own. "That would say that Little Pete has the
tail
him?"
"Yeah."
I looked for the ironic smile, a sign that he was kidding, exaggerating at least. He was perfectly serious. "You guys were in your own B-movie. What did you find out?"
"We found out Angelo DiBiasi's got balls bigger than his brains. Poor bastard. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm sitting in the truck down by the freight house waiting for Little Pete to show up, and Angie rolls by a in a tug dragging a TV set on a dolly. I caught up with him just as he was loading it into his car."
"What happened with Little Pete?"
"Busting Angie basically blew my cover."
"And you never found out why Ellen was after him?"
He shook his head. "I assumed she got a tip from her snitch."
"Snitch?"
"She had a snitch down on the ramp, a guy who used to tip her off."
Of course she did. "Why don't you just ask the snitch what it was about?"
"I don't know who the guy is. She kept it a secret to protect him." He must have noticed a hint of skepticism in my expression. "I know this doesn't make much sense," he said, "but it will. Ellen always made sense. I just don't have all the pieces yet."
"What reason would Little Pete have to kill Ellen?"
"I think it must have been for the package."
I stared at him.
"Oh, yeah. I didn't tell you this. One night I was at the airport later than usual, and Ellen comes into her office. She picks up the phone and starts talking to someone about something that's in this package. Then my phone rings, I answer it, and that's it. She knows I'm there. She gets up and closes the door, so that's all I got."
"How could you fail to mention that little detail?"
"Because so much stuff has been happening around here that I sometimes can't keep it all straight. And you're the first person I've been able to talk to about it. I figure he killed her for the package."
"You don't know that." We were jumping to some very large conclusions here with very few facts, something that was against my religion. "What could have been in this package?"
"I don't know. Could be she found out about one of Little Pete's scams, or the old man's. She could have had enough to fire their asses."
"He would have killed her to keep his job?" I tried not to sound as alarmed as I felt, but between this discussion and the one with Kevin, I felt my management prerogatives becoming more and more limited.
"She may have uncovered something that would put them both in jail. That would be enough to send Little Pete over the edge. He's not exactly the most stable guy to begin with."
"Is that where you've been disappearing to at night? To stake out Little Pete?"
"I've been trying to keep an eye on him, but it's impossible with just me. Near as I can figure, he's been AWOL four times since she died."
"Four times in nine days. When does he work?"
"He doesn't. That's what you saw on Sunday night. But his pop always covers for him, and none of his union brothers are going to rat him out." Dan was concentrating hard on one of the sugar packets left over from his coffee. He was folding it smaller and smaller until it was the size of a toothpick. "Where do you think he goes when he disappears like that?"
"To a bar," I guessed, "or home to sleep. Maybe to a girlfriend's house."
"He comes up here to Marblehead."
"Do you know that for sure?"
"One night I followed him halfway up here, but he must have spotted me because he turned around and went to a bar in Chelsea. Then tonight I find out the old guy, the landlord, he's been complaining to the police about someone coming in and out of Ellen's house in the middle of the night."
"That would be you, wouldn't it?"
"No. The cops assumed it was me but it wasn't, because if I could walk in the front door, why would I be climbing through the friggin' window?"
I had to think about that. Dan used a logic that was uniquely his own. "That would say that Little Pete has the
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