Gin Palace 02 - The Bone Orchard

Brothers shirt and L.L. Bean trousers stepped partially in and stopped.
    “I’m looking for Declan MacManus,” he said. He was polite and well mannered. Over his arm was a brown leather jacket, slick from the rain.
    “You found him,” I said.
    He slipped the rest of the way in and closed the door behind him. He glanced at me for a moment, then took a quick look around.
    “Have we met?” I said.
    “No. Sorry. My name is James Curry.”
    We nodded to each other. I stayed by the window and he stayed by the door. For some reason the room between us felt necessary.
    “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Curry?”
    “James, please.” He hesitated, then said, “Do you know me? I mean, have you heard of me?”
    I waited, then said, “Yeah. You live out on Halsey Neck Lane. You’re rich.”
    “I’m rich,” he repeated. He looked around my living room again. “And you’re not,” he said. “No offense.”
    “It’s plain to see.”
    “Maybe we can help each other, then.”
    “I’m not sure I’m following you.”
    “Sorry. I’m not myself.” He took in a breath. “The other night my daughter was killed in an auto accident. You might have heard about it.”
    I nodded.
    “Her mother is ill. She’s in a hospital in Westchester. She’s not … well. Amy was all I had. She was beautiful. She was a good student. Popular. The worst thing you could say about her was that she took my Corvette out for a spin every time I left town.” He smiled at that, but it shifted quickly into a kind of grimace.
    “A friend of mine’s daughter is a junior at the high school. She knew Amy. She said she was a nice girl.”
    “I should have sent her to a boarding school, like her mother wanted, but I wanted her near. I can guess how you feel about the rich, Mr. MacManus, just by the way you’re looking at me, but no amount of money can protect you from the pain of such a loss.”
    “Call me Mac. And I never thought money could protect a person from anything, except cold and hunger. And I don’t hate the rich.”
    “I don’t think that’s true, Mac. I’ve heard things about you. I’ve been asking around. I heard how you grew up on my side of town, that you lived with the Van Deusen’s on Gin Lane.”
    “I’m familiar with the story.”
    “He was a madman. The man who adopted you. He was a son-of-a-bitch, but I guess you probably know all about that, don’t you?. His boat sank, didn’t it? He and his wife and their crazy son drowned, wasn’t that what happened?”
    I said nothing to that.
    Curry took a step toward me. “I guess what I’m saying is, I see maybe why you can hate the rich the way you do. Van Deusen and his Pittsburgh crowd, well, let’s just say they were bad news. They bought and sold people. And they were the worst kind of capitalist. Some say they had too much coal dust in their lungs, that it chipped away at their sanity. I don’t think I’ve met a more cruel man in my life than your father.”
    “He wasn’t my father.”
    “Sorry. I mean, your adoptive father. If I were you I’d probably think twice about crossing south of the highway, too.”
    “I’m sorry, I should have told you, I’m on my way out.”
    Though I didn’t move he held up both hands as if to stop me. “Please, hear me out.”
    “Whatever you’ve come to say, leave my biography out of it. Okay?”
    He nodded. “You help people, I’ve been told.”
    “You’ve been misinformed.”
    “You found a Town Justice’s son when no one else could, you found that Mary Anne Rose girl, you found the Bishop girl. I’ve seen the newspaper clippings in the morgue at the Southampton Press .”
    “Those were favors for friends.” It was a half lie, and I could hear the falsity clear in my voice.
    “Well, I’m willing to pay you for your time.”
    “I’m not interested.”
    “I’ll pay you ten grand right now. And another ten if you find out what I want you to find out.”
    I looked away from him. “Sorry. Sorry, I’m not your man.”
    “You’re the only one in town who can help me.”
    “You want help, go to the police.”
    “Yeah, well, that’s the thing. I think the police are the problem. And I know that you’re about as fond of them as you are of rich people.”
    “There’s a private investigator here in town, he’ll help you out.”
    “I’m not all that interested in landing in someone’s pocket, and it seems that this gentleman you’re referring to works as much for himself as for his