“Yeah, we heard that,” the detective said. “Your old man, Gino Parisi, left you his half.”

“That’s correct. If you gentlemen have any business with the company, you should contact Mr. Jerry Brubeck. I’ll be happy to give you his number.”

“Yeah, we got that. When you were with the company, you worked with a Mr. Eugene Ryan, is that correct?”

“That’s right, Gene and I were in the client services department.”

“Where can we find Mr. Ryan? We’d like to speak with him.”

Al offered them a blank stare. “Gene lives in Queens. I forget the address, but he’s in the phone book.”

“Not anymore. We’d like his current address.”

“Gee, I don’t know, I haven’t seen Gene since our last day at work. We were never close friends.”

“Do you know what kind of motorcycle he drives?”

“Yeah, he has a Honda 250—he talked about it a lot.”

“We found the Honda at the bottom of the East River.”

Al managed a look of concern. “Jesus, I hope he wasn’t riding it at the time.”

“We’re not sure about that just yet.”

“I wish I could help you, I just don’t know how.”

“We’ll keep in touch.” The cops got to their feet.

“Please let me know if I can be of any further help,” Al said, as he showed them out and closed the door behind them. He watched until they drove away, then found the throwaway cell phone and called Ryan.

“Yeah?”

“Gene, it’s Al.”

“Yeah, I thought, since you’re the only one with this number.”

“A pair of detectives from the NYPD were just at my house, looking for you.”

“Well, they didn’t find me, did they? Or did you give them my new address?”

“Of course not. I told them I hadn’t seen you since our last day at work. They asked what kind of motorcycle you were driving.”

“And what did you tell them?”

“A Honda 250. They said they found it in the East River. Are you playing dead?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea—I’m dead. You tell everybody who asks you.”

“This couldn’t be about the poker game, or they would have been New Jersey cops.”

“Right.”

“So what is this about?”

“Beats me, maybe some old beef, or something. You just keep playing it the way you did, and everything will be fine.”

“Okay, pal.”

“And let me know if you come up with another job.”

“I’ll do that. Bye.” Al hung up. What the hell was going on with Gene? he asked himself. He didn’t know, and he really didn’t want to know.

—

An hour later Ryan left the DMV with his car and motorcycle properly registered and a new driver’s license in his hand. Time to do some shopping for a new car and a better apartment.

Chapter 43