New York Dead

happened,” he said.
    “It’s okay, Dino. Maybe it was all for the best.” He told Dino about his dinner with Bill Eggers.
    “That’s great, Stone, and I’m happy for you, but it’s still not okay with me. You were my partner, and I should have at least warned you what was coming. I didn’t know myself until that morning.” “You were my partner, too, and I didn’t back you up,” Stone said.
    “Yeah, but you were right, that’s the difference. I was wrong, and because of what I did Morgan croaked herself.”
    Stone said nothing.
    “I took the call,” Dino said, blinking.
    Stone still said nothing.
    “She was in the bathtub, and it looked like the tub was full of blood.”
    “Jesus,” Stone allowed himself.
    “She had a straight razor. God knows what she was doing with it, even if she was a dyke. You think she was keeping it in case she grew a beard?”
    Stone shrugged.
    “She stuck it in right under her left ear and pulled it all the way around, deep.”
    Stone winced.
    “She had guts, I’ll say that for her. I couldn’t never do that, not in a million years. Pills, maybe. Maybe eat your gun, but you don’t die right away when you cut your own throat. It must hurt like all hell, and you got time to think about what you done before you go under.” Dino shifted his weight and took another deep pull from his glass. “She left a note.” “The papers didn’t say anything about that,” Stone said, surprised.
    Dino took a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Stone.
    Stone read it.

I have never harmed another human being in my life. I did not harm Sasha Nijinsky. I loved her, and she loved me, and I would never have done anything to hurt her.

I want my friends to know that this is not a suicide. This is murder, and the police are the murderers.

    “You can see why you didn’t read about it in the papers,” Dino said, taking the note back. He took a pack of matches from an ashtray on the bar, lit the note, watched it burn. “You know something? I went to confession. I didn’t go to confession since I was fourteen, but I went yesterday. As part of my penance, I had to tell you this stuff. I didn’t do the rest of the penance; I’m not going to. But I wanted to do this part.” “Thanks, Dino, I know what it cost you.”
    “Don’t be so fucking nice about it, Stone. I wouldn’t have said a word to you, but I know you won’t say nothing to nobody about this.”
    Stone nodded.
    “I always been good at looking out for my own ass,” Dino said. “Sometimes I fall in the shit, but I come up smelling like a rose, you know?”
    Stone laughed. “I know.”
    “Nah, you don’t know. I made detective first grade today. Ain’t that a kick in the balls? I get a promotion I would have killed for—” He stopped and laughed ironically. “Shit, I guess I did kill for it, didn’t I?” “Congratulations, Dino.” Stone raised his glass.
    Dino drank with him. “They made me deputy squad commander, too. Leary’s retiring the end of the year, and I’m getting the job, Delgado says.”
    “That’s great, Dino,” Stone said, but it was a statement of sympathy.
    “Yeah, get me off the street some, I guess. Teach me a sense of responsibility.”
    “You’ll be good at it. Look out for the politics, though.”
    “What politics? I’m not going anywhere after that. I’m never going to be chief of detectives — they know it, and I know it. Shit, I never expected to make detective first, to tell the truth. Nah, there’s no politics to worry about. I’m bought and paid for. I’ll do what I’m told and like it.” Stone couldn’t think of anything to say.
    “Sounds like I’m feeling sorry for myself, don’t it? Well, I am, I guess. I found out how far I’d go to cover my ass, and I feel terrible about it.” He tossed down the rest of his drink and squared his shoulders. “I’ll get over it, though. In a week or two, or when I get Leary’s little cubicle, I’ll look around and say to myself, ‘Hey, this ain’t half bad, you know? These fuckers have to do what I tell ‘em now! I’m the fucking boss!’ And I’ll start to feel okay about it. And come spring, I’ll forget all about Hank Morgan and how she took a bath in her own blood. I’m good at that — forgetting what a shit I was about something. I’ll forget that I wasn’t the world’s greatest detective, too, that I was lazy and shiftless a lot of the time, that I didn’t give much of a shit about