Walter stared at his drink. “We hadn’t been, but we worked on it. We got there. I guess I’d say he could tell me things he didn’t want to tell Martin, maybe even Ro. Martin can be a little it’s black or it’s white.”
“What kind of things?” Eve prompted. “Dinnie Duff?”
“Yeah. He felt sort of responsible for her. She was into all that shit before they hooked up, but after they did, he made it easier for her to get the junk, to work the streets—or not work. He took care of her, and he saw that as helping push her down. And under it? He cared about her. They had this common ground, since her father used to smack her around, even raped her when she was like sixteen, so—”
He broke off when Eve held up a hand. “Duff’s father left long before she turned sixteen. He’d have been in prison when she was sixteen.”
“But she told him…”
“Addicts lie.”
“I know that.” Obviously shaken, Walter dragged a hand over his hair.
“I know it, but she told him all this, and he believed her. She told him her mother was a drunk who turned tricks and was in lockup half the time so she had nobody, had to live on the streets half the time.”
“Her mother’s a domestic worker, with no criminal record or any indication of alcohol abuse. Duff has an older brother in Atlanta living a decent life.”
“Jesus, she played him. He believed her. He wasn’t lying to me, Lieutenant. He believed her and felt sorry for her.”
“I know it.”
“It made her seem vulnerable, even helpless,” Peabody added. “It made her a victim, gave them that common ground. Could he have found out the truth?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t. I know he finally decided he had to stop giving her money, listening to her bitching. He seemed a little pissed, I guess, but he didn’t say he found out it was all bullshit. I was just glad he’d decided to stop with her, so I didn’t ask too many questions.”
He rubbed both hands over his face. “Clean break, he said. Screw that shit. Is that why she killed him?”
“We’re looking at all the angles.”
“He missed her—not just the sex, but her. Having somebody to be with. He missed sex, too.” Walter smiled a little. “He said he missed having a woman, but he wasn’t going to go there yet. I knew it wasn’t easy for him to keep turning Dinnie away. He could’ve had the bang and walked away—but he didn’t want to risk it.”
“Did he talk to you about the gang?”
“Some, when he first got out, not so much in the last few months. He and Slice, they go back, so that was another hard one for him. I think the gang was easier to step back from, because he had family. But the individuals in it were harder. Slice, he was more of a brother to Lyle than Martin was, than I was, for a long time. And Slice wanted him back, told Lyle he’d make him his next in command.”
“Did he?” Eve asked.
“Yeah, right after Lyle got out, and again a few weeks later when he had the job. He asked me not to say anything to Ro, so I didn’t. But it was hard for him to say no. He was somebody in the gang before he got busted. And after, he was still somebody because he kept his mouth shut and did the time. He knew he could walk back in there, especially with Slice backing him, and be important, be in charge. Have all the junk and women he wanted, walk down the street and see respect and fear. But he said no.”
Walter lifted his glass, drank deep. “He took being a short-order cook in an all-night diner, living with his sister, going to meetings instead of hitting a club. Saving his pay instead of pocketing his share from the gang business.”
Finally, Walter’s voice broke, his eyes swam. “He was a goddamn hero. You find who did this, because Duff didn’t do it alone. You find who shot my brother up with what he’d battled back every damn day. You make it matter.”
“It does matter. He matters.”
With effort, he pulled himself together before Rochelle came back, rose to take the small suitcase she carried.
“We can give you a lift,” Eve offered.
“No, but thanks. I’m just going to drop this off at Wilson’s, then we’re going to pick up our family, and go see Lyle.”
“We’ll be in touch,” Eve promised, and left them alone.
“I’ll have the pictures of the two pieces we have sent out,” Peabody said as they walked down and out to the car. “And descriptions of the rest. Big, stupid mistake to steal.”
“Sloppy again. Crappy planning. The wit gave me more on one of the killers.”
As Eve passed it on, Peabody noted it down. “Probably jonesing.”