Celebrity in Death

She waited till he passed out drunk, then she took me to the hospital, and she called the law. And there’s Katie screaming how she’s a liar, and her daddy never touched me. People around there knew my father well enough, and his hands were raw from beating on me. Then she—” He paused, took a careful drink. “Then she said how he’d been protecting her because I’d tried to get at her. That way.”
    He lowered his head, shook it. “My own sister. They didn’t believe her, and she kept changing the story. But they had to ask questions, do tests and that. Anyway, at the end of it they locked him up.”
    “And your mother took you to Iowa.”
    “Yeah, packed up and left. This woman talked to my ma, about things she could do, and gave her the name of a place we could go, live awhile till we got settled in. I had to stay in the hospital near a week, but when I could travel, we left. Katie hated her for that, hated the both of us, I guess, as she surely made our lives a misery whenever she could. But she had to stay, go to school and counseling because the judge said so. Besides, the old man, he didn’t want anything to do with us, Katie either, when he got out of jail. She blamed Ma for that, too.”
    He looked up again. “I’ll tell you something, ma’am, when we got out, it’s the first time I could ever remember my ma going a full week without being hit. How can you blame somebody for wanting to go a week without being hit?”
    “I don’t know. I think for some, violence becomes a way of life. It becomes the normal.”
    “I guess that’s true. Anyway, he got in more trouble when he got out, and I guess he took on somebody meaner than he was, and that was theend of it. Katie blamed us both—blame, I guess that was her normal, too. She got into trouble at school, stole things, got drunk whenever she could, started smoking zoner, and whatever else she could get. And when she could, she lit out for California. Ma had changed our names legal, but Katie took his back. That shows you something.
    “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”
    “It helps me to know her. Whatever she was, whatever she did. It helps me know her. And knowing her will help me find who killed her.”
    His eyes watered up, and he struggled in silence a moment for composure. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. My ma’s grieving, but I can’t. I can’t grieve for my sister.”
    “You came here, all this way, to take your sister home. That shows me something.”
    “For my ma.” A single tear spilled out. “Not for Katie.”
    “It doesn’t matter. You came, and you’ll take her home.”
    He closed his eyes, sighed. “When my wife was carrying our first, I was so afraid. I was afraid I’d be what he was, that I’d do what he did. That it was in me—in the blood—like in Katie’s. Then I had my boy.” He turned his palms up, as if cradling an infant. “And I couldn’t understand how, how a father could—I’d cut my arm off first. I swear to God. But Katie, it was like she couldn’t be any other way. Now someone killed her, like someone killed him. Was it supposed to be like that, right from the start?”
    “No. I don’t believe that. No one had the right to take her life. She made bad choices, and it’s hard for you to reconcile that. Murder’s a choice, too. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure the person who made that choice pays for it.”
    “I guess that’s what I needed to hear. I guess that’s why I came to see you. I can tell my ma that, and I think it’ll comfort her some.”
    “I hope it does.”
    He sighed again. “I guess I better figure out what to do with myself until I leave tomorrow.”
    “You’ve got two kids, right?”
    “One of each, and we’re having another.”
    She pulled out a card—her last—made a note to dig out more. “There’s this kid. Tiko,” she said, scribbling on the back of the card. “He sells scarves and whatever else, on this corner in Midtown I’m writing down. He’s a good kid. Go buy your wife and mother a scarf. Tell Tiko I sent you, and he’ll make you a deal. And ask him where to get your kids some souvenirs from New York at a good price. He’ll know.”
    “Thank you. I’ll do that.”
    “You can contact me if you need to. The information’s on the card.”
    “People oughtn’t say New Yorkers are cold and rude. You’ve been kind and friendly.”
    “Don’t spread that around. We New Yorkers have a rep to