"I think you're right about that, my dear," Max mused. "Miss Fenster was a troubled person whose fate was inevitably decided not by herself, but by whether or not she met someone like Rick."
"That rotten family she came from didn't do her no good, either," said Lucky. "Some people just shouldn't be allowed to raise kids."
"Speaking of the family, what's going to happen to Freddie Junior?" I asked.
"Well, he's definitely gonna get off for shooting that driver. ‘Not responsible for his own actions at the time,' blah blah blah."
"That has the merit of actually being true," I pointed out.
"He's being released, charges dropped." Lucky added, "He might have bigger problems than this, though. It turns out Freddie's in debt to the Russian mob, and that's just never a good position to be in."
"Indeed not," said Max, his brows raised in alarm. "In general, one should always take care to avoid angering Russians. I speak from bitter experience on this subject-but that's another story entirely."
"So the big question now," Lucky said to me, "is what your boyfriend is going to put in his report."
"Mr. Gambello's lawyer doesn't have that information?" I asked dryly.
"An honest cop is such a nuisance to deal with," Lucky said. "Much trickier to frisk for information than expensive uptown shysters."
"I gather that means Lopez wouldn't discuss it with him?"
"Yep."
Seeing Lucky's inquisitive expression, I shrugged. "I don't know what he's going to do."
I knew that, to protect me, Lopez had fudged reports in the past to keep my name out of things. I also knew that he got angry at himself for doing it, felt it was wrong, and struggled hard with his conscience over it. So I couldn't ask him to do it. I wouldn't ask.
"Relax, Lucky," I said. "We just did a little breaking and entering . . . and, uh, maybe destruction of property-"
"You're not making me feel better," the old gangster said.
"But," I said, rallying, "we did it in a good cause, and the police know that. So even if we do wind up in Lopez's report, we have nothing to worry about."
"Hmph," he said, unconvinced. "You don't know cops like I do."
"Detective Lopez is an honorable young man," Max insisted. "He will do the right thing. And in complicated circumstances, he will struggle arduously with his options to determine what the right thing is. I feel confident in his integrity."
"Yeah," Lucky said sadly. "It would be so much easier if that wasn't the problem with him."
"Oh, cheer up, Lucky," I chided. "You have more to celebrate than to worry about. The Gambellos are off the hook for the hijackings."
"Yeah, we're off that hook," he said gloomily. "But thanks to those two wacky kids screwing around with armed robbery, instead of just being satisfied with raising a demon, OCCB has been all up in our thing lately, tearing our lives apart. I know it's business, not personal. With the media and the Commissioner breathing down their necks, they had to show juice. But it's not good for us to be raked over the coals like this. Not good at all."
In an effort to cheer him, Nelli picked up her pink mastodon and started nudging him with it, giving fiercely playful growls. He smiled and tugged on her ears.
Then, changing the subject, he said to me, "So I guess you're out of work now, huh?"
"Yeah, but I'll be back at Bella Stella after New Year's. And I'm going to light a fire under Thack then, too. I need some auditions!"
Meanwhile, it was easy to imagine how I could fill the time between now and then. I felt my cheeks burning as I thought of him again.
"You're looking very flushed, Esther," Max noted. "I'll turn down the fire."
"Uh-huh." I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked it, wondering if the ringer was working.
"You expecting a call?" Lucky asked.
"Not really," I lied. "Just checking."
I glanced at the time. It was almost five o'clock. He was supposed to get off work within an hour. He'd probably call me then. Maybe when he was on his way to Nyack.
This being the darkest time of the year, when barriers between dimensions crumble, night fell soon after that. Nelli got restless after a while, so Max fastened her into her Christmas jacket and attached her jingling red leash to her collar.
"I believe the wind has died down," he said. "Why don't we all take Nelli for an evening stroll and observe the holiday lights of Greenwich Village? There are some lovely displays this year."
"I'm in," said Lucky. "Esther?"
"Um . . ." It was almost six o'clock now. I was thinking I might want a little privacy when he called.
"Aw, come on," Lucky urged. "Get in the Saturnalia spirit!"
That made me smile. "I'll get my coat."
The holiday lights of the Village were indeed lovely this year, and the air tonight was crisp and energizing despite the gray, unpromising start of the day. I linked arms with both of my escorts, walking between them, glad of their company. Nelli pranced cheerfully in her festive coat, evidently pleased to have confronted Evil and acquitted herself well. She greeted other dogs we met on our walk, and we greeted their people, all wishing each other Merry Christmas, Seasons Greetings, and Happy Saturnalia.
It was a magical night to be a New Yorker, strolling the streets of our city on a rare occasion when the pace was slow, traffic was light, and few people were crowding the sidewalks. It was a good night to commune with friends and loved ones. A good night, I thought, to be a Jewish elf in the Big Apple.
But in my coat pocket, I felt the weight of my silent phone, and wondered why he didn't call . . .