Free Murder in Greenwich Village by Lee Harris Page B

was untouched. The man across the hall heard at least two men’s voices and footsteps going downstairs.”
    â€œGotta be more than two. Defino didn’t let that creep get his gun all by himself.”
    â€œRight.” She told him about the van. He nodded and hit the print key and paper started flowing out of the printer.
    â€œThere’s enough here for both of us for a while.” He handed her one sheet, put the other down on his desk, and picked up the phone.
    Names, addresses, and phone numbers filled her page. She began with a man named James Randolph Jr., a brother. A woman answered. She had never met James’s brother Carl and didn’t know where he lived. It was news to her that he was in jail. What had he done? Her voice turned up like a child’s. No, she said, James wasn’t home just now but maybe later. Try back about eight.
    Jane hung up and listened to MacHovec’s call for a moment. It sounded no more enlightening than hers had been. Either Randolph had trained his family well, or he kept his life so separate from theirs that they honestly knew nothing.
    MacHovec put his phone down. “You try the wife,” he said, switching sheets.
    â€œI’m out of charm, but I’ll give it a try.”
    Randolph had spoken fondly of his family when they saw him at Rikers. Maybe there was a relationship there, a wife who might believe she could help him.
    â€œI hear he’s in jail,” the woman at the other end said in answer to Jane’s first question.
    â€œDoes he live at your address, ma’am?”
    â€œWell, he drops in now and then, when he needs a good meal, you know?”
    â€œMrs. Randolph, do you know who his friends are?”
    â€œYou askin’ me about girlfriends?” The voice turned cool.
    â€œNo, ma’am. I’m trying to locate someone who might have done business with your husband.”
    â€œHe got a brother James and he got another one, Raymond. I could give you their numbers.”
    She took them, although they were already on MacHovec’s sheet. “Do you have children?” she asked.
    â€œI got a son and a daughter.”
    â€œAre they at home with you?”
    â€œThey’re grown-up now. They got apartments of their own.”
    Nothing Randolph had said was true. “Do you know where your husband stays when he’s not with you?”
    A breathy silence. “My daughter knows. I’ll give you her number.” She gave numbers for both of them and ended the conversation.
    â€œI hope they put him away for a thousand years,” she said when she hung up.
    â€œRandolph?”
    â€œYeah. What a shit. Here, you take the son; I’ll take the daughter.”
    They developed some new contacts, but no new information. No one knew anything; no one was talking. Most of them swore they hadn’t seen Randolph in a long time. But they were Randolph’s friends and relatives; they would swear to anything.
    At eight Jane got back to James Jr. He was actually there and they had what passed for a conversation. He sounded high on something, slurring words, answering questions that hadn’t been asked, gliding past those she needed answers to, humming a tune. She was glad to get off the phone.
    The phone rang almost immediately.
    â€œJane?” It was a frightened female voice. “It’s Toni Defino.”
    â€œToni. We’re all working to find him.”
    â€œWhat happened? Lieutenant McElroy called. I was going crazy. Gordon’s always on time or he calls.”
    Jane sketched it out, omitting details. “We’re going to find him, Toni. It’s just a matter of time.”
    â€œThis seemed like such a safe job. I kidded him about taking his gun to work.”
    â€œI promise you, I’ll call the minute we know something.”
    â€œI’m scared.”
    â€œI know. I am too. But Gordon’s smart, and we’re smart, and we’ll find