Cut to the Bone(21)

“Cops,” Bloch spat. “You’re all the same.”

“Yes, we are. We live to rub out little grease spots like you,” Branch said. He held up his phone. “Want me to call your parole officer?”

“Can’t do that without a charge.”

“How’s assaulting a police officer?”

Bloch looked incredulous. “I wasn’t fighting her, man. I was trying to escape.”

“He fought me, Captain,” Emily said. “No question. I was brutalized beyond imagining.”

“Would you testify to that in court, Detective?” Branch asked.

“On a stack.” She held up her forearms. “These scrapes are so deep they’ll still be scabby at the trial.” She swanned dramatically. “Oh, the shock I suffered from this animal.”

Annie held up the evidence camera.

“Plus it’s all on video,” Emily said. “Perfect visuals for the jury.” She’d actually gotten them flying off the getaway car, but saw no reason to mention that.

“Assault and battery,” Branch continued. “Resisting arrest. Attempting to escape. Failure to obey a lawful police order. Felony stupid.” Long pause. “Or, you can tell me about Zabrina.”

“Yeah, awright,” Bloch muttered.

“Say what, Devlin?” Marty said, cupping his ear.

“I said awright! I used to know someone named Reynolds. When I lived in Minneapolis.”

“Where you made a nice buck as an armed robber,” Emily said, thumbing through Bloch’s rap sheet. “Liquor stores, minimarts, pawnshops, fast food. When they didn’t hand it over quick enough, you beat them half to death.”

Branch rose and limped to the cobwebbed picture window.

“The last place you robbed was a neighborhood bank,” he said, staring at the overgrown willows in the front yard. “You pulled a gun, hollered ‘stick-em-up.’ But genius that you are, the stocking over your face had a big hole. The teller supervisor got a good look. With his photographic memory, he described you to responding police.” He turned. “Down to those cute little acne pits on your chin.”

Bloch scratched them, shifting uncomfortably.

“Cops nailed you a mile from the bank, cash bag between your legs. The teller supervisor testified at your trial, and you got shipped to Stillwater to play patty-cake with people of color. The teller supervisor was Zabrina’s father.”

“Yeah, all right. I know the guy,” Bloch said. “But I didn’t croak him.”

“Only because you couldn’t. He’s been in Amsterdam the past month, on business. So you took your payback by nailing his kid,” Marty said, cracking his knuckles in Bloch’s ear. “Soon as you were released, you found out she lived in Naperville, put a knife in her. Then you wasted our cop during your getaway.”

“I did not!” Bloch howled, so vehemently Emily sensed he was telling the truth. Then again, cons lied as easily as they breathed, just to stay in practice. “I didn’t kill anyone! Not her, not that cop, nobody! Never!”

“So how do you explain it?” Branch said.

“It’s a, whaddaya call it, a confucius!”

“You mean coincidence?”

“Yeah! It has to be!”

“We’re not brain-dead,” Marty growled, crowding so close Bloch leaned away. “Your sheet’s filthy with violent crimes. One week after your release, Zabrina eats a foot of steel. You expect us to believe that’s coincidence?”

“Gotta be, man! I came here for the house!” Bloch insisted, stomping the carpet for emphasis. Ants boiled from the seam. Emily made a face, moved back.

“Explain,” Branch said.

“Ma croaked when I was in Stillwater. This is her place.

She left it to me in her will. Ask the warden. He’s the one told me. Go on, ask him.”

“We will.”

“When I got released, I didn’t have anywhere to live. I knew people in the Cities, but I couldn’t hardly stay there. Because of my, uh . . .”

“Friends.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Friends.” Hack and swallow. “I hopped the Greyhound and found Ma’s old house. Figured I’d hang here till things settled down. Then I’d move somewhere warm.” He shivered. “Minnesota’s so cold I crapped ice cubes every February. I’m gonna move down to Mexico. Eat me a taco every day.” He leered at Annie’s crotch. “A pink taco, know what I mean, blondie . . . ow!” He grabbed both feet, whimpering.

Branch sighed, pulling back the cane. “That is, without a single doubt, the stupidest story I’ve heard in my entire life, Devlin-”