Invisible City (Rebekah Roberts #1)(10)



“Another round would be great,” I say, leaning in like he’s mine.

But Hannah is over Frau Flannery’s.

“This place sucks,” says Hannah, taking her purse from the hook beneath the bar. “Come on, Jenny.”

Jenny looks at me and Iris. Her eyes are glassy and unfocused. I hug her close and then. Hannah whisks her away. Iris winks and turns toward Brice, leaving me and Tony alone in the crowd.

“That was exciting,” says Tony.

I slide my hand around to his back again and he pulls me to him. I look up—he’s a head taller than me—and to my great pleasure, he kisses me. Right there in front of everybody. I can’t see Iris, but I bet she’s smiling.

“I’m sorry I’ve been an *,” I say, loving the way his soft chest feels against mine. He is about to say something when my phone rings. It’s the desk.

“I’ll be back,” I say.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

I angle through the crowd to a space by the door and answer.

“Hold for Cathy,” says the receptionist. I hold.

“Rebekah, you were on the Gowanus body, right?”

“Right.”

“Who was out there? What was the scene like?”

“Um, how so?”

“They might need a couple extra inches for the second edition. Vic Hubbert told me to check it out.”

Cathy Richards is on the Sunday desk, but she sometimes picks up overnight shifts. Vic Hubbert runs the night shift and compiles the police blotter. He is way past retirement age.

“The workers seemed shook up. The owners were a little weird, but they’re always kinda weird.”

“The owners? What do you mean weird?”

“Sorry. I mean … They were Hasidic.”

“Hasidic?”

“The Jews, in black hats…”

“I know what Hasidic means.”

I hear typing.

“What was the name of the yard?” she asks.

“Um, I forget. Hold on.” Shit. I should know this. I pull out my notebook and flip the pages. “Smith. Like the street.”

“You think it’s owned by Hasidics?”

“I don’t know for sure. I talked to a kid at the gas station across the street and the guy at the counter said the boy’s dad owned the yard.”

“Get his name?”

“The kid? Yakov.”

“Last name?”

“Last name … he said it, I think.”

“Where did you talk to him? Wait, how old?”

“I don’t know, like eight or nine maybe?”

“We can’t quote him. Did he say anything interesting?”

“Not really. He came in with his dad and another man but they left him there.”

“They left him?”

“He seemed comfortable. I mean, if it’s the family yard, I figured he’d been there before.”

“Okay. But you didn’t get a last name.”

“I did.… Um, f*ck.”

“Find it. I’ll call you back.”

I flip through my notes three times, but the last name isn’t in there. I pull out a pen and circle some possible quotes. The cashier’s reaction: “I can’t believe it.” And the Jewish van. I look up and catch Tony’s eye. He’s back behind the bar. I mouth “work” and roll my eyes. He winks.

Cathy calls back.

“Library is working on an address for the owner. What time did you start?”

“Nine.”

“Vic wants to door-knock.” She is typing. “Let me see who’s on the schedule tonight.…”

“I’ll go,” I say. I’ve never volunteered for a double shift before. But I’ve also never been on a story that in any way involved the Hasids. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever even read a story about them, not in the Trib, anyway. It’s a funny secret, I think, that I’m one of them and they don’t know it. Or maybe I’m not. Can you be Hasidic without all the dress-up and the rules? Is it in my blood?

“Yeah? Okay, hold on, I’m gonna get Vic on speaker.”

I hold.

“Hello?” Vic’s voice is a croak. It’s more than just smoking. He sounds like someone’s scraped his throat out with a fork.

“Hi,” I say.

“You talked to the owner?” asks Vic.

“I talked to a little boy. The bodega worker said his dad owned the yard.”

“They were Hasidic?”

“Yeah.”

“What else?”

“Um … they took her body away in a van. But it wasn’t the police van. It had, like, Hebrew on the side.”

“Really?” says Cathy.

“Did you see Johnny’s film?”

“Johnny?”

“The photographer. He got some shots when they took her down. She was bald. And naked.”

“Bald?” says Vic. “Cathy, call Larry. Ask him if 1PP will confirm the victim was bald.”

“Johnny assumed she was Jewish because she had a shaved head. He said the Hasids make their women shave their heads. But that’s not true, I don’t think.”

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