Yesterday's News

down on The Strip.”
    I fingered the taping on the sofa.
    Fearey said, “What are you doing? Leave that alone there.”
    “Tape looks pretty new.”
    “Yeah, we change it every coupla weeks for guests.”
    “What I mean is, the tape all looks new. On all the furniture. Even with a two-year-old running around the house.”
    No response.
    “Like it was all taped at the same time. Like because it all got ripped up at the same time.”
    “That’s none of your business.”
    “When you got back that night, after the police and Charlie, I mean. This place was wrecked, wasn’t it?”
    “This place is always wrecked. I’m not much into housework.”
    “I mean it was torn apart by somebody, like by somebody looking for something.”
    She nuzzled the child, speaking more softly. “I left Tiger with a neighbor down the street. Old woman, nice enough to come up, see if I needed help with the cops and all. So there wasn’t anybody here when I went off with them. Musta been two, three hours later when I got back. The cops dropped me at her house, I picked up Tiger, then walked over here. I opened the door and... I didn’t know what to do. The place was destroyed, the furniture, the closets, even the stuff from the refrigerator was all over the floor in there. Why’d they have to do that?” She started to cry softly. “We didn’t have shit. Why’d they have to do that?”
    I waited a minute, then said, “Can I ask you a couple more questions?”
    Fearey wiped her nose on the child’s shoulder. “Ask.”
    “Was there anything that they could have been looking for?”
    “Like what?”
    “Anything Charlie might have been holding for Jane Rust?”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Documents, photos, videotapes. Anything.”
    “You mean the porn stuff again.”
    “Right.”
    “Look, I already told you. I don’t know nothing about any of that, alright?”
    “Alright. Do you know a man named Bruce Fetch?”
    “No.”
    “He was Jane Rust’s boyfriend before she became involved with Charlie.”
    “Oh, him. Yeah. She talked to Charlie about him, and Charlie’d say things to me. I never met the guy, though.”
    “Charlie told you about Fetch?”
    “Mister, Charlie told everybody about everything. That’s why this confidential source shit is so stupid. Charlie was about as confidential as a loudspeaker.”
    “Did Bruce Fetch know about Charlie being Jane Rust’s lover?”
    “I don’t know, but like I said, Charlie shot off his mouth about everything, it wouldn’t surprise me if Charlie told him himself.”
    I said, “Ms. Fearey, on the level, what do you think happened?”
    She raised her voice angrily. “What do I think happened?”
    The child began to cry. I said, “Yes.”
    “What I think happened is that bitch reporter got Charlie killed somehow.” The child began to wail. “Shut up, Tiger! I think that bitch got him to fall in love with her, really in love. She screwed him up so much he did something so stupid he couldn’t get out of it.” The child was screaming now. “I said to shut up! God, none of this would’ve happened if I’d stayed with the Duck.”
    “What?”
    “Never mind.”
    “Who did—”
    “Get fucked.” The child was shrieking hoarsely! now, and Fearey struggled to her feet. “Get out! Get out of here!”
    I left the other half of the twenty on the sofa. “We’re square. I’m sorry about Charlie.”
    She followed me to the door, the child nearly drowning her out. “Yeah, yeah, you’re so sorry, do me a favor, okay?”
    “If I can,” I said, going through the door.
    “That Rust bitch. She in the ground yet?”
    “Tomorrow. The funeral’s tomorrow.”
    “Yeah, well here’s what you can do. You can hawk up a good one and spit on her fuckin grave for me.” Fearey kicked the door shut behind me.

“If you so much as touch Bruce, I’m calling the police.”
    I smiled politely at Grace and said, “He swung on me last time. Can you let him know I’m back?”
    She didn’t return the smile. “Wait right here.” Entering Fetch’s office, she closed his door behind her, then reappeared, looking even less happy. “He’ll see you, but remember what I said about the police.”
    “I will.”
    Fetch was seated at the computer terminal, an architectural drawing turned sideways on the monitor’s screen. There was a splint on his right ring finger. He said, “What do you want now?”
    I took a seat in front of the desk, causing him to