“If he knows you have Zucco,” I said. “Maybe he’ll talk with me.”
“If he knows we have Zucco,” Cappelletti said. “He just might jump in the car and keep riding until the road ends. He’ll fucking run.”
“You ready to bring him in?” I said.
“Depends on what Zucco says.”
“You mind if I take a shot?” I said.
“Christ,” Cappelletti said. “Do you know how this is going to look to the Feds? No offense, Spenser, but you’re going to fuck up the case.”
Cahill looked up with his hooded eyes and stroked his drooping gray mustache. “Yes,” he said. “But given what he’s just turned up, I’m not in a position to disagree. You met Teehan. You really think he’ll turn?”
“I think he’s a chronic loser,” I said. “A true misguided nut. But I also think he’s a hero in his own mind. If he sees Zucco is caught, he might just decide to join the team.”
“And Donovan?”
“You’ll have to catch him with matches in hand,” I said. “Or kill him.”
“Nuts?”
“Like Mr. Peanut but without the top hat.”
“One or all of these guys have killed three men,” Cahill said.
“Four, if you count Featherstone.”
Cahill nodded. “Let’s get to work.”
53
It was late and raining in Roxbury. Frank Belson met me in the police headquarters parking lot and sat in the passenger side of my Explorer. He reached for the half-finished cigar in his shirt pocket. I held up a hand to stop him.
“Don’t even think about it,” I said.
“I can’t smoke at home with Lisa,” he said. “I can’t smoke in the car with the new captain. Now I can’t smoke with you. Christ.”
“It’s because we love you, Frank.”
“Hah.”
“We care about your personal health and want you around a good long while.”
“Bullshit,” he said. “You hate the smell.”
“A wet night and a soggy cigar,” I said. “Heaven.”
Belson shrugged. He had on the same blue suit but different tie. The new tie looked about two decades old.
“How’s Zucco holding up?”
“He did pretty good for the first two hours and then his story started to change,” he said. “That’s when we showed him the video. And then it all became very real and personal to him.”
“Did he lawyer up?”
“Nope,” he said. “He admitted to the fire. Me, Glass, and the Arson boys were there.”
“And on Featherstone?”
“Nope,” he said. “He says he didn’t even know Featherstone.”
“You believe he’s in the dark?”
“I’m not really sure,” he said. “He blamed everything else on Johnny Donovan. And he thinks, but can’t be sure, that Donovan did the Holy Innocents fire, too. He said Donovan had some issues with a priest there.”
“What kind of issues?”
“The kind of issues that got covered up for decades by the archdiocese,” Belson said. “He called Donovan a real-life psychopath. He’s worried Donovan will try and kill him if he knows he’s been pulled in.”
“And what else did you guys talk about?”
“What the hell do you think?”
“Will he wear a wire?”
“He’s happy about it,” Belson said. “He said he’s wanted out for a while but was afraid of Donovan. He claims this was going to be the last fire he set.”
“Donovan’s pretty cocky,” I said. “He really flaunted that he couldn’t be caught. Of course he was referring to himself as Mr. Firebug.”
“Everyone can get caught.”
“Justice is always served, Frank?”
“Always,” Belson said. “And me and you will ride off on our fucking horse into the sunset.”
“Yee haw.”
The engine was off, but the windshield wipers continued to slap away the rain. I wanted to find Kevin Teehan, scare the living daylights out of him, and turn him against Donovan, too.
“Captain Glass really doesn’t like you,” Belson said. “Marty kind of put on an act. But you knew how it really was. Glass ain’t kidding.”
“She’ll come around,” I said. “You know how charming I can be.”
“I think she’s immune to that shit, if you know what I’m saying.”
“Even with my dimples?”
“She ain’t into your dimples.”
“Ah.”
“Can I ask you something?”
I nodded.
“How the hell you’d get this damn video?” Belson said. “It’s outstanding.”
“Jackie DeMarco had an operation close to where these guys burned the church and that warehouse.”
“That’s why at first you thought it was DeMarco.”
“See?” I said. “You can see how I made an honest mistake.”
“And you harassed his ass,” Belson said. “And he politely turned it over. No harm and no foul.”
“Exactly.”
Belson shook his head. He reached for the door handle and slightly opened the door. Before he left, he lit the cigar.
“Come on, Frank.”
“I’ll buy you a fucking bottle of Febreze,” he said. “Get over it.”
“Wonderful.”