“I work with him.”
“You work with me, too. I just did a surveillance shift for you.”
“Anything happen?”
“I'm not telling you until you let me in.”
“I don't need to know that bad.”
“Yes, you do. You're nosy.”
He was right. I was nosy. I slid the chain off and opened the door.
“So what happened?” I asked.
“Nothing happened. The grass grew an eighth of an inch.” He got a beer out of the refrigerator. “You know, your aunt is a real boozer. You should get her into AA or something.” He noticed the dress on the counter. “Wowy kazowy,” he said. “This your dress?”
“I got it to wear to a wedding.”
“You need a date? I don't look so bad when I get cleaned up.”
“I have a date. I've been sort of seeing this guy—”
“Yeah? What guy?”
“His name's Morelli. Joe Morelli.”
“Oh, man, I know him. I can't believe you're going with Morelli. The guy is a loser. Excuse me for saying so, but he porks everyone he meets. You shouldn't have anything to do with him. You could do better.”
“How do you know Morelli?”
“We have a professional relationship, being that he's a cop and I'm a bookie.”
“I asked him about you, and he said he never heard of you.” Bunchy tipped his head back and laughed. It was the first time I'd ever heard him laugh, and it wasn't bad.
“He might know me by one of my other names,” Bunchy said. “Or maybe he just doesn't want to come clean because he knows I might spill the beans about him.”
“What would these other names be?”
“They're secret names,” he said. “If I told you, then they wouldn't be secret anymore.”
“Out!” I said, pointing stiff-?armed to the door.
MORELLI CALLED AT nine the next morning. “Just wanted to remind you the wedding is tomorrow,” he said. “I'll pick you up at four. And don't forget you have to come in to make a report on the Sloane Street shooting.”
“Sure.”
“You get any leads on Fred?”
“No. Nothing worth mentioning. Good thing I don't do this for a living.”
“Good thing,” Morelli said, sounding like he was smiling.
I hung up, and I called my friend Larry at RGC.
“Guess what, Larry?” I said. “I found the check. It was on my uncle's desk. Payment for three months' worth of garbage pickup. And the check has been canceled and everything.”
“Fine,” Larry said. “Bring the check in, and I'll credit the account.”