Page 122 of Two Marlboros

I was as excited as an athlete a moment before crossing the finish line. Even on Ash’s face I saw that questioning expression turn into a sketchy smile, which soon opened into a pair of astonished lips.

“They were looking for him! They were looking for Michael!”

“That’s exactly what I think. And if Michael really has anything to do with Webster Hall and the drug cartel in there, it’s likely that the robbery was a way to settle the score. If that hypothesis is confirmed, we could trace it back to the drug gang.”

“Two crimes for the price of one, in short.”

I burst out laughing and my mind relaxed.

“There’s one thing that doesn’t make sense to me, Alan: If Michael is well-off, why didn’t they rob his house instead of the post office?”

I thought about it for a moment and feared that question would deflate my enthusiasm, but the answer came to me lightning fast.

“It could have been an attempt at misdirection. If they had headed straight to Michael’s house, it would have been easier for the police to assume a connection between the two.”

My colleague nodded and seemed convinced by my answer. I continued to recapitulate the information we had.

“What about Clide? Where were we?”

Ash scratched his chin. “Right. If we wanted to follow the hypothesis we just made, we could say that Michael needed a place to hide from the drug dealers with whom he had incurred a debt. In order not to arouse suspicion, he had tried to keep it quiet.”

“Now,” he continued, “Clide is the person Michael asked for a house. Let’s try to think: if he had lied today, what would have happened?”

“He would have perjured himself, and that is a crime.”

“It becomes a crime when the police find out.”

That statement made me laugh. Nice sense of justice!

“I was saying, if Clide has seen fit to tell the truth, perhaps it is because he thinks the police are already on Michael’s trail or can find him without effort. And at that point, what would have happened if the boy had mentioned his name?”

“It would have turned out that his statement was false.”

“By putting him in the middle, yes.”

It was on the tip of my tongue. It was there, I could feel it, yet it couldn’t come out. William’s behavior had an explanation, and pieces of the solution were scattered in my subconscious. Unfortunately, I still didn’t know how to fit them together.

As soon as we got back to the station, the headache began to bite my right temple. Time to get to the parking lot and it had also grabbed the left and everything in between. By the time we got out of the car, I was bursting.

“What a struggle, huh?”

Ash threw the car keys in the air and then grabbed them the next moment, but I looked away because even following that movement caused me pain.

“You can say it loud. I’m getting a migraine.”

The sunlight was still powerful. Not as strong as midday, but strong enough to force me to taper my gaze and shun all reflections on the sheet metal.

“Are you going home now?”

“I think so. I think I’ll lie down on the bed for a while.”

Someone started the car, and the engine began to mumble. It was the only noise to fill that place, so quiet it seemed like a parallel world.

“Look, I wanted to apologize to you. I’ve been a jerk all these months.”

“I already told you, it’s okay. Besides, you didn’t know.”

“Does Nathan know?”

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