Swan Dive

it.”
    ”I’m told she was in some legal trouble a while back.”
    ”And that surprises you?”
    ”No, but I can’t go through the cops for the story.”
    ”I don’t know, John. All that shit is tied up by the privacy statute. The records, I mean. She processed through here?”
    ”No. Salem District Court.”
    ” Salem ! Christ, John, the chief judge of the whole fucken system works outta Salem .”
    ”Ed, you’ve shaken every hand ever stamped a paper in this state. All I need is some noncontroversial information about her.”
    ”Like what?”
    ”One of the suspects is a lawyer from Marblehead who used to do a lot of criminal work. I want to see if she was involved in the case.”
    ”Why—never mind. I don’t wanna know.” Ed bothered his teeth with his tongue for a while. ”I don’t know, John. How long ago was all this?”
    ”Eight years, give or take.”
    ”Oh, John, all the stuff from that far back’d be on the micro.” He made a rude noise. ”Okay, I’ll give it a try. But I’m gonna have to bury this with some other kinda requests, and God save the sailor if anybody ever notices who was asking about her.”
    ”I really appreciate it, Ed.”
    ”Name?”
    ”Street name was Teri Angel. Real name, and probably the one Salem would have, is Papangelis, Theresa.”
    ”Spell it for me.”
    I spelled it. ”Age back then about nineteen. The lawyer’s name is Felicia Arnold.”
    ”Gimme a couple days. I’ll call you.”
    ”Thanks, Ed.”
    ”Christ,” he said walking away. ”Guys lose their pensions like this.”

La Flor was tucked between a mom-and-pop grocería and a dry cleaner’s on the lower end of Sommer Street . I parked two doors down from the cleaner’s and watched the front door of the restaurant for a while. Two construction workers in bandanas, boots, and nonmatching hard hats came out, chewing thoughtfully on toothpicks. Not seeing anybody else by 1:30,1 got out of the Fiat and walked into the place.
    There were twenty small tables crammed into the bowling alley space that reminded me more of New York than Boston . The tables were draped in clean white cloths, a fresh-cut carnation in a clear glass vase centered on each. An elderly couple were finishing lunch near the window. She wore a plain print dress, he a fifties sharkskin suit. They were holding hands and toasting each other with small port glasses.
    Niño waved to me from the back of the room. He sat on one of three stools at a tiny bar, behind which a fat man was drying glasses with a towel. Immediately in front of Niño was a table for four with two women eating across from each other. One had a badly bleached ponytail draped across her near shoulder, the other long raven black hair. They both glanced up at me, the blonde following me with her eyes as I walked toward them, the other just returning to her plate.
    Niño slid off the barstool. The women both looked about thirty. Given their working hours, they could have been anywhere from seventeen to forty. The blonde was tall, even sitting down, and heavily made up. The other slumped in her chair and wore no cosmetics at all. As I reached the table, the blonde smiled at me in a practiced way, the other paid no attention.
    Niño said, ”John Cuddy, I have the pleasure of giving you Maylene and Salomé.”
    The blonde said, ”I’m Maylene, honey.” She had a south of Kansas twang in her voice. ”I show it, I shake it, and I share it.”
    Salomé, out of the corner of her mouth, said, ”Jesus.”
    Niño said, ”You and me sit here and here, John. You know, boy, girl, boy, girl?”
    I sat down, Maylene to my left, Salomé to my right. ”Has Niño told you why I wanted to talk with you?” Maylene said, ”Yeah. It’s about the Angel.” She laid her hand over mine and gripped tight. ”God, I was terrified when I heard.”
    Salomé seemed awfully bored. Her attitude reminded me of the bare tolerance an experienced cop shows when paired with a rookie. I put Salomé nearer forty, Maylene nearer seventeen.
    Niño said, ”Hey, John, you making some impression here. I think Maylene want to swallow you pride.”
    Maylene took her hand off mine and gently slapped Niño on the shoulder in that limp-wristed way some women use to show tenderness. Niño took it playfully. Salomé broke off another piece of bread from the shallow basket in front of her and sopped some gravy from her dish.
    ”Niño, I’d really like to talk with the women alone, okay?”
    He shook