Sinner's Ball Read Free

turned three squatters into stains on the floor and took the lives of two New York City firefighters.
    â€œSure. Christmas Eve.”
    â€œThe DA is saying it was arson, and that I did it for the insurance money.”
    â€œYou don’t need the money.”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œAnd his evidence?”
    â€œFar as I know, zip. But our esteemed DA always plays things close to the vest.”
    â€œThat he does,” I said.
    â€œThe warehouse was insured by Pytho. Their guy who investigated the fire was supposed to be here by now.”
    â€œBut he’s not.”
    â€œHe called. Running late. I want you to hear what he has to say.”
    â€œI’ll drop by after lunch.”
    â€œThat works. Look, you know how this is going to go down. The DA is all about expedience. He looks at my line of work, puts two and two together, and comes up with the brilliant deduction that I torched the place. I take the fall for felony murder, another case cleared. Crime wave over.”
    Sad to say, my brother’s analysis was dead right. This was an election year, and politics trumped everything. The DA had been in office since there were trolley cars. But he wasn’t quite ready for a retirement home. There was one last hurrah on his to-do list. A high-profile case starring my brother, the reigning Hell’s Kitchen’s Kingpin of Crime, would fit the bill very nicely.
    â€œYou pretty much summed it up,” I said.
    â€œMy lawyer tells me that an indictment is about to come down.”
    â€œBased on what? Someone who could place you at the scene?”
    â€œNot possible. I wasn’t there.”
    â€œAnd you have an alibi.”
    â€œAre you kidding? Airtight.”
    â€œThen its gotta be coming from the competition. What’s the word on the street?”
    â€œNada. The doers could be the Guineas, the spics, the Russians, or some other flavor of asshole thinking about trying me on for size. Since the uh, incident”—he strokedhis cheek with the stump of his hand—“the jokers probably think I’m, you know, vulnerable. But they don’t know who they’re fucking with, do they?”
    They surely didn’t.
    He smiled a crooked smile. “When I find them, I’m going to rip out their eyes.”
    Nothing ever changes.
    â€œHave you heard from Franny?”
    His face went cold.
    â€œShe’s yesterday, so screw her. From here on in it’s just the two of us. Just like old times.”
    Just like old times!
    Something in my brother’s face sparked an unsettling thought.
    â€œYou’ve told me everything?” I said.
    He smiled. “See you after lunch.”

2
    â€œW hy do I do this to myself?” Allie said.
    Café Buffo was a watering hole for folks in the ad business. Every year, on the third Friday in January, the restaurant honored the industry’s movers and shakers. Their caricatures went up on the walls, and their names were attached to menu items. Allie had yet to make the cut. This year was no different. The winner was busy taking his bows when I arrived.
    â€œNo luck, huh?” I said, easing into a seat opposite her and DeeDee, who suddenly looked older to me. Maybe it was the lighting. Or maybe it was something new.
    DeeDee had always been kind of a tomboy, wearing whatever was handy. But today she wore freshly pressed jeans and a black tank top, and her long black hair was lustrous and neatly combed. Most disturbing, her eyessported just a hint of mascara. Allie noticed my confusion and greeted it with a raised eyebrow and a
things are changing and you better get used to it
smile.
    Even in the depths of depression, Allie, the love of my life, looked terrific. Her honey-colored hair was pulled back in a ponytail. And under a furry vest she wore a T-shirt that announced WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I GIVE A DAMN ?
    â€œIgnored again,” Allie said. “The winner, an unctuous little brain with a Brit