‘Yeah, guess that makes sense. You don’t want the kid to get shot, right?’

  Jake scribbled his name illegibly on the card and handed it back to the detective.

  ‘Thanks,’ the detective said, beaming, like he really did think that getting Jake Thomas’s scribbling on the back of a business card was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

  ‘Yeah,’ the detective said, still smiling stupidly, ‘he’ll get a big kick out of this.’

  ‘So,’ Jake said, ‘how can I help you?’

  ‘Oh, right,’ the detective said, putting the card away in his wallet. ‘By the way, my name’s Noll - Edward Noll, Sixty-ninth Precinct. I know you already talked to Detective Jennings last night, but the investigation’s proceeding, and there’re a few things I just wanted to run by you. This’ll take a couple minutes, tops.’

  ‘I’d like to help any way I can,’ Jake said, smiling politely.

  ‘First off,’ Noll said, ‘I was talking to your father just before. . . . He was telling me how Ryan Rossetti stopped by here yesterday.’

  ‘Yeah . . . So?’ ‘Your father said Rossetti’d been drinking and attacked you. Then, when he left, he threatened your life. Is that how you recall it?’

  ‘Why do you want to know about me and Ryan?’

  ‘We’re just checking out every possibility,’ Noll said. ‘I mean, Rossetti attacked you yesterday, right? It’s conceivable he came back here later with Marcus Fitts to try to attack you again.’

  ‘But Fitts is the guy who got shot, right?’

  ‘Maybe they had a dispute. Rossetti shot him and fled the scene.’

  Jake thought it all through quickly. He would’ve loved to pin the shooting on Ryan - exaggerate the story, say, Yeah, he said he was gonna kill me - go arrest the fucking prick. But he knew Ryan was friends with Marcus and Cornrows, and if Ryan got arrested, Cornrows would get arrested, and then Jake would be totally fucked.

  ‘You got it all wrong,’ Jake said. ‘Ryan and me, we just exchanged a few words. It was nothing.’

  ‘So he didn’t have his hands around your throat?’

  Jake laughed. ‘That’s what my father told you? That guy . . . Man. Nah, it was no big deal - really.’

  ‘You sure about that?’

  ‘Swear to God, nothing happened.’

  ‘What about when Rossetti left here?’ Noll asked.

  ‘Didn’t he threaten to kill you?’

  Jake laughed again, like this was the biggest joke of all. ‘No, of course not. Something you gotta understand - my father and Ryan’s father . . . there’s been bad blood between them for years. And as far as my father’s concerned a Rossetti’s a Rossetti, if you know what I mean. Don’t listen to anything my father says about any of this. Did you talk to Ryan?’

  ‘Not yet. He didn’t return home last night, and his mother doesn’t know where he is.’

  ‘I’m telling you, there’s no way Ryan had anything to do with any of this. It’s obvious this was just some kind of gang-related thing.’

  ‘Why is that obvious?’

  ‘The guy was dressed like he was in a gang, wasn’t he? I mean, wasn’t he?’

  ‘He had associations with the Crips, but that doesn’t mean the shooting was necessarily gang-related.’

  ‘I’m just saying. . .’

  ‘We’re gonna check out every possibility,’ Noll said, ‘but if you say nothing happened here between you and Ryan yesterday, you’re right - Ryan probably isn’t involved. I just had one more question for you.’

  ‘About Ryan?’

  ‘No, about you. I know you told Detective Jennings last night that you were in the kitchen eating when you heard the shot.’

  ‘I was.’

  ‘But we spoke to a woman across the street - Renee Gardner. When she heard the shot last night she looked out her window. She said she saw you going into the house right afterward.’

  Mrs Gardner had been living across the street from the Thomases for years. She was old when Jake was a kid. She had to be eighty now.

  ‘She made a mistake,’ Jake said. ‘I wasn’t there.’

  ‘She sounded pretty sure—’

  ‘You’re saying I’m lying?’

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘Come on, you can’t trust anything that old lady tells you. I mean, what’s she, a thousand years old?’

  ‘She’s in her sixties.’

  ‘Still. She’s probably senile.’

  ‘She’s a civil court judge downtown. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with her mentally.’

  ‘Oh,’ Jake said. ‘Look, I don’t know what . . . Wait, I know -she probably saw my father, not me. Yeah, that must’ve been it. My dad was out there first, right after the guy got shot, to see what was going on. She probably saw him going back into the house and figured it was me.’

  ‘You don’t really look like your father.’

  ‘Look, I wasn’t out there. I don’t know what else you want me to say.’

  ‘I guess you’ve said enough. You’ll be around the rest of the weekend anyway, so if I have any more questions I can run them by you later. Oh, and thanks for the card. I know Trev’s gonna love it.’

  When Noll was gone, Jake opened the refrigerator and took a swig of milk from the carton. Then he closed the refrigerator and punched the door as hard as he could. Pain ripped through his fist. He screamed and opened the freezer and started searching for an ice pack. He couldn’t find one, so he took out some ice cubes, wrapped them in a dish towel, and put it on his sore, aching hand.

  ‘Was that you screaming?’

  Donna had just entered the kitchen.

  ‘Oh,’ Jake said, as if he’d forgotten, ‘yeah.’

  ‘What happened to your hand?’ ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Then what’s with the ice?’

  ‘The refrigerator door closed on it.’

  ‘How did that happen?’

  ‘No idea.’

  ‘Poor thing. I hope you’re okay.’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘If you’re feeling well enough. I was just outside - the reporters wanted to know if you’d answer some questions.’

  ‘Jesus H . . . .’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Donna said. ‘I wanted you to have a relaxing time here this weekend. It’s so awful that this had to happen.’

  Figuring the reporters would be here all day if he didn’t give them some kind of statement, Jake said, ‘Do me a favor - tell them that I’m very concerned about the situation, and that my heart goes out to the victim’s family.’ Jake tried to think of some more bullshit. ‘Oh, and tell them that I’m trying to spend some time with my family and my beautiful fiancee this weekend and that I hope they respect my privacy.’

  ‘You sure you don’t want to tell them all that yourself?’

  ‘Positive.’

  Jake had some breakfast - an egg-white omelette and skim milk. He replayed Noll’s questions over and over in his head. There were still a few answers he wished he could take back, but overall he thought he’d done pretty well. The thing that freaked him out was the whole Mrs Gardner thing. He was afraid that she wasn’t the only one, that someone else had seen him run into the house or even shoot Marcus. He wanted to get the gun out of the house as fast as possible, but he didn’t want to do anything stupid. He had to go about his routine - pretend everything was normal, that he had nothing to hide.

  His hand was okay, so after breakfast he went back down to the basement to continue his workout. He did more chest, then did back, shoulders, and abs. After over two hours he felt nice and pumped and went back up to the guest room.

  He immediately checked under the mattress to make sure the gun was still there, and panicked when he didn’t see it. He was convinced that the cops must’ve searched the room while he was working out. Then he lifted the mattress higher and saw it right where he’d left it last night. He didn’t want to dick around any longer, but there were still a lot of people outside. He had to wait for things to calm down; the last thing he needed was some paparazzi snapping a picture of him dumping the gun somewhere.

  After a long shower he threw Christina another call, but Al said she still wouldn’t come to the phone. Jake didn’t know what the hell was wrong with her, and he was wondering if it had something to do with Ryan. He remembered Ryan saying that shit about how he was in love with Christina. Maybe Ryan wasn’t lying. Maybe it was more than just a fling and they really were in love. Maybe that little scumbag had tried to kill him twice and was trying to steal his fiancee.

  Jake kicked the night table and the lamp on top of it fell over, crashing onto the floor. Several seconds later the guest room door opened - Jake’s mother was there. She turned around quickly when she saw that Jake was naked.

  ‘You should learn to knock,’ Jake said.

  ‘Sorry,’ Donna said. ‘What was that crash?’

  ‘Oh, the lamp just fell’

  Without looking at Jake, Donna turned and saw the lamp on the floor.

  ‘Get dressed and come downstairs,’ Donna said. ‘Michelle and Roger just got here.’

  Jake had no idea his sister and brother-in-law were coming over.

  ‘Oh, man, why’d you have to do that?’

  ‘They want to see you. How often do you get a chance to spend time with your family?’

  ‘Whatever, I’ll be right down.’

  Donna left. Jake threw on some clothes - Armani jeans, a black Moschino T-shirt, a tan Evisu sport jacket - and went downstairs.

  Donna, Michelle, and Roger were sitting in the living room, talking about the shooting, and didn’t even notice Jake arrive.

  Then Roger, the dork accountant, saw him and said, ‘Hey, Jake!’

  Roger shook Jake’s hand with a dead-fish grip, and Jake and Michelle said hi the way they always did, air-kissing each other’s cheeks.

  ‘So this has been an eventful weekend, huh?’ Roger said. ‘Yeah,’ Jake said. ‘But everything’s cool now.’ ‘Michelle was saying she thinks the shooting has something to do with you,’ Donna said.

  Michelle was looking at Jake in a proud, know-it-all way. Because she had been good in school and got a scholarship to Cornell and was teaching whatever at Butt Fuck U, she acted like she was Miss Expert about everything, and his parents totally bought into it. Ever since Jake could remember, even when Michelle was six years old, his parents always asked for her opinion about every little thing. But if Jake had an idea about something his parents never listened.

  ‘Really,’ Jake said, fake-smiling. ‘And why’s that?’

  ‘Think about it,’ Michelle said. ‘You’re in one weekend of the year - and then someone just happens to be shot in front of Mom and Dad’s house? Doesn’t that sound a teensy bit coincidental?’

  ‘I think she’s right,’ Donna said.

  ‘Well, I don’t,’ Jake said.

  ‘This is what I think happened,’ Michelle said. ‘I think two guys came over to mug Jake, or break into the house, or do something, and then something went wrong. Maybe one guy had a fight with the other guy and shot him, but they definitely weren’t here by accident.’

  ‘It’s so frightening,’ Donna said to Jake. ‘You could’ve been killed. We could’ve been killed.’

  ‘Why’re you listening to her?’ Jake said. ‘She has no idea what she’s talking about.’

  ‘It sounds logical,’ Donna said.

  ‘You’re just saying that because Michelle said it.’

  ‘I think she’s making a good point.’

  ‘It’s a stupid point.’

  ‘It was just a theory,’ Michelle said to Jake.

  Jake, glaring at his sister, didn’t say anything. ‘It doesn’t matter why it happened,’ Donna said. ‘It’s just scary - someone getting killed right in front of the house.’

  ‘Let’s look on the bright side,’ Roger said. ‘It sounds like they’re gonna get the guy soon anyway.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Jake said.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t tell you?’ Donna said. ‘The police have a suspect.’

  ‘Really?’ Jake said as calmly as possible. ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘They didn’t tell me much, but they said they have a description of the guy.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’

  ‘I didn’t have a chance to, with you coming down here, screaming at your sister.’

  ‘But I talked to Noll. He didn’t say they had a suspect.’

  ‘I’m telling you, I just heard while you were in the shower. They also said something about some other shootings last night.’

  ‘What other shootings?’

  ‘I don’t know, but they say they think it’s related to what happened here.’

  Donna continued talking but her voice faded to white noise. Jake knew that as soon as Cornrows got caught he’d tell the cops that Jake had shot Braids, and he’d probably try to pin these other shootings on him. Jake could deny everything, but how would that look if the cops found the gun under his mattress?

  ‘Can I borrow your car?’ Jake blurted out.

  Whoever was talking stopped, and Donna said, ‘What for?’ ‘I need to go to Christina’s. I forgot, I told her I was gonna pick her up and bring her back here today.’

  ‘Oh, wouldn’t that be nice?’ Donna said.

  Jake got the car keys from his mother, then said he needed to use the bathroom but headed upstairs to the guest room. He reached under the mattress and took out the gun. Then, in a dresser drawer, he found an old T-shirt and he began wiping down the gun ultracarefully, as if he were polishing silver. When he was convinced there couldn’t be a print anywhere, he wrapped it in the T-shirt and put it in the inside pocket of his jacket. It looked kind of bulky. He patted it down as flat as he could get it and decided it was good enough.

  Downstairs, he announced he’d be back in about an hour, figuring that would give him plenty of time to dump the gun, and then he went outside.

  The crowd had mostly cleared. The news trucks and cameras were gone and there were only a few people hanging around. Jake figured they were just neighbors or fans, but then two of them rushed him as he headed down the stoop, shoving mikes in his face.

  ‘How ‘bout a comment about the shooting, Jake?’ a thin blonde asked.

  ‘I already gave my comment,’ Jake said, not stopping.

  ‘Are you relieved the police have a suspect now?’ said a black guy, maybe Jake’s age.

  ‘Very relieved,’ Jake said.

  There were more questions, but Jake stopped answering. He kept saying, ‘Excuse me,’ and ‘Sorry,’ as he continued toward his mother’s Explorer, parked a few spots away, up the block. But the reporters had probably been waiting all night to get their Jake Thomas sound bites and wouldn’t let up. They walked alongside him, the black guy rubbing up against him right where the gun was. Jake was afraid the guy would feel the gun, get all nosy, and say, ‘What’s that in your pocket?’ Or what if, the way Jake was getting all jostled, the gun fell out?

  But Jake made it into the car and closed the door. He worried that he’d been acting suspicious, hurrying to the car, and if any trouble came up later the reporters would remember and tell the police. Trying to do some preemptive damage control, just in case, he smiled and waved at the reporters in an it’s-all-cool way as he drove up the block, going at an easy ten-mile-per-hour clip.

  Now he had to figure out what the hell to do with the gun. His first idea was to bury it somewhere, but he knew that was stupid. What would he do, start digging a hole in the ground in broad daylight? Besides, he didn’t have a shovel or anything to dig with. He could drive to a bridge, throw the gun in the river, but someone might spot him.

  Heading along Avenue J, trying to decide where to get rid of the gun and coming up with no new ideas, Jake wondered if the red car behind him was paparazzi. There was glare on the car’s windshield, so Jake couldn’t see the driver, but he thought the car had followed him from his parents’ block. Jake started driving through the intersection at Remsen Avenue, then made a sharp right, and sure enough the red car turned with him. Goddamn sons of bitches. He made a right at the Canarsie Cemetery and stepped on the gas, figuring he’d try to lose the fucker, but he realized that getting caught for speeding right now probably wasn’t such a great idea, so he hit the brakes. The red car braked hard behind, almost rear-ending him.

  Jake marched toward the car, ready to give the guy hell, when he saw it wasn’t a guy driving; it was a girl - a teenage girl. Not bad-looking - dark skin, long, straightened hair, maybe sixteen. Jake could tell she recognized him because she covered her mouth with her hand, obviously surprised to see Jake Thomas storming toward her like he wanted to kill her.

  Jake smiled widely, trying to cover for the mistake, then got back in the Explorer and drove away.

  Staying on Church Lane, he veered right and, in the rearview, watched the girl turn onto Avenue J.

  He still didn’t know what to do with the gun. He considered driving over to East New York and dumping it at a project somewhere when he realized that he didn’t have to go anyplace special to get rid of it - hell, he didn’t even have to try to hide it. As long as the gun didn’t have his prints on it, let the cops find it -what the hell did he care? They’d just figure Cornrows dumped it last night, after he shot Marcus whoever. Then if Cornrows got caught and told his bullshit story about Jake shooting Marcus, there was no way in hell the cops would believe it, especially when they had the gun connected to two other shootings.

  Jake went around the block and drove past the cemetery again. He cut over onto a quieter side street, trying to find a spot where there weren’t any people around. On Stillwell Place he pulled up as close as he could to the space between two parked cars. He removed the gun from his jacket pocket and unwrapped it, careful not to touch it. Then he opened his window and looked around in every direction to make sure the coast was clear. When he was convinced no one was watching, he quickly tossed the gun out the window into the gutter between the cars. He looked around again, seeing no one, and then rolled the window back up and drove away.

  As he headed back toward his parents’ house, Jake ran everything through his head a few times, to make sure there wasn’t something major he was forgetting or not considering, but it all seemed perfect - he was in the clear.