It was obvious to Craig that they weren’t going to get what they needed with Sylvia Mannerly standing there. “Ms. Mannerly,” he asked, “is there a place where we can speak quietly with Alicia—alone?”
Miss Mannerly’s lips pursed and she stiffened. But, apparently realizing that they were FBI and she had no choice, she led them to a conference room.
They got Alicia seated with a box of tissues and a glass of water. Mike sat next to her, and Craig perched on the table.
With a little encouragement she started talking. They learned that she was Alicia Rodriguez, and that she’d come to New York from Puerto Rico when she was twelve. Like Maria, she was working hard to make her way through college.
“I can see how much Maria meant to you,” Craig said, “and we’re very sorry for your loss. That’s why we need to catch the people who took her life and make sure they face judgment for what they’ve done. Maria’s not the only one they’ve killed.”
Alicia blew her nose loudly and nodded.
“Did Maria have a boyfriend?” Craig asked.
She looked up at him, startled, then quickly looked down. Too late. It was obvious that Maria had been seeing someone she shouldn’t have.
Mike glanced at Craig. “Who was he, Alicia?” he asked very softly.
“I don’t know his name,” Alicia said, sniffling. “And I never met him. She only saw him a few times.”
“What can you tell us about him? Where and when did she see him?”
“She only saw him when she got off work. That’s how I know she only saw him a few times, because she’d go see him instead of meeting up with the rest of us. He plays in a band or he’s a bartender or something. He would get off work right around when she finished. They’d only meet for an hour.” Alicia shook her head. “But I know he would have loved her if they’d had more time. She was nuts about him.”
“And you know about him because she told you about him?” Craig asked.
Alicia nodded and almost smiled. “She said that he saw her on the subway one day and followed her. She tried to ignore him, but he was so nice that she started meeting him. Just for an hour late at night. And then she’d go home, because she couldn’t let her aunt know about him. Her aunt didn’t want her dating. She wanted her to get through school, and Maria didn’t want to disappoint her.”
“She met him on the subway,” Craig repeated. “Between her home and the Diamond District?”
Alicia nodded and blew her nose again.
“Do you know anything else about him?”
Alicia shook her head. Then she said, “I just remembered! I did see him once. From a distance. I was meeting her after she saw him because I was going home with her. We were going to the museum the next day. I met up with her at the Rose and Thistle. It’s a little place not far from her house.”
Thank God it hadn’t been Finnegan’s. He didn’t like the idea of criminals hanging out there—so close to Kieran.
“Can you describe him? If we set you up with a forensic artist?” Mike asked.
“I only saw the back of his head as he was leaving. He was pretty tall. About six feet, maybe? And he had dark hair. Very dark hair.”
“Thank you, Alicia,” Mike said.
“Can you remember anything else Maria told you about him?”
“Yes. He loved pubs. He told her once that he hated the whole club scene. He loved friendlier places, like pubs.”
Mike and Craig looked at one another.
“Did Maria ever mention a downtown place called Finnegan’s on Broadway?” Craig asked.
Maria frowned. “I’m not sure. But if it’s a pub, he would have liked it. She said he loved the downtown area. He told her it had character. Trinity and St. Paul’s, the area they used to call Five Points. Wall Street. He was smart, she said. He loved architecture and history.”
“But she never told you his name?” Mike asked.
“I guess she wanted it to be a secret, something special because it was private. We called him Mystery Lover.”
Mystery Lover. Great.
“Let’s backtrack for a minute. When you saw him, did he turn at all? Do you remember what he was wearing?”
“Oh, yes, of course,” she said.
“Well?”
“Jeans. He wore jeans. And sneakers. Jeans and sneakers.”
“And? How about his shirt?”
“I don’t know. I told you, I just saw him from the back. I couldn’t see his shirt. He was wearing one of those jacket things. You know, a hoodie.”
CHAPTER
TEN
THE PUB WAS being slammed.
Only natural, since it was a Friday night.
Eagan sat at the bar next to Bobby O’Leary, the two of them talking away over their club sodas and lime. Soon they were both eating fish-and-chips—and still talking.
Declan had all the screens above the bar and around the pub tuned to the news. It was impossible to miss the reports on the jewelry store holdup that morning, along with the sad fact that a young woman had been killed.
As she headed into the storage room to replenish the bar-brand whiskey, Kieran nearly smashed right into Danny. She paused, unable for a minute to hide the worry that had been tearing at her.
“They were in here, Danny. They were in here!”