Vivian had been to the commissioner’s house once before, escorted in through the back door to wait in his study, battered and bruised from one of the worst nights of her life. She could only imagine what her home looked like to him as he compared it to the warmth and sophistication of his own. But she wasn’t ashamed of where she lived. If he was uncomfortable there, it didn’t bother her. At least that way he wouldn’t linger.
“Have a seat, if you like,” she said. The police officer who had come with the commissioner followed them in, shutting the door and takingup a post in front of it. Vivian tried not to look at him. “I’d offer to make you coffee, but I’m fresh out.”
His eyebrows rose as he pulled out one of the chairs for himself. In the half-hearted light, she could see the amusement in his expression. “Nothing stronger to offer?”
“I don’t keep liquor in my house,” Vivian said softly. “You might not have heard of it, but there’s a thing called Prohibition.”
That made him chuckle, though the sound was not a friendly one. “And why would you need to? You can drink much better quality at work than you could ever buy for yourself.”
Vivian didn’t answer, and he smiled, clearly not expecting her to. It had been a reminder, nothing more: he knew details of her life that she might have wanted to keep hidden. They weren’t on equal footing in this chat, and she had better watch her step and her mouth if she wanted to make it through in one piece.
She swallowed and, hesitating only a heartbeat, took the seat across from him. There was nowhere else to sit except her bed, so Leo leaned against one wall, his face in shadow as he nodded to the officer by the door. “Evening, Levinsky. How’s the new baby?”
“Green.” The man, Levinsky, nodded. “Good to see you’re staying in one piece. She’s nearly six months old now.”
“Mazel tov,” Leo said quietly, before turning back to his uncle, whose lip was curling in distaste. “All right if I stick around for your chat, Commissioner?” Leo asked, ignoring the expression. There was very little emotion in his voice, but his weight was planted, his stance wide and solid. He looked ready for a fight; Vivian wondered nervously if he knew something she didn’t, or if he was just on edge from his uncle’s presence.
“By all means,” the commissioner said, his face unreadable once more. He sounded unsurprised by the request. “What I came here to say concerns you as well.”
“And that is?” Leo asked. In spite of his tense posture, there wassomething polite, even deferential, to his tone that Vivian wasn’t used to hearing. It sent a shiver down her back, though she tried to hide it. Leo was worried.
The commissioner glanced at the officer by the door. “That’ll be all for now. Wait for me downstairs.”
Levinsky looked at Leo, a quick flicker of his eyelids, before nodding. “Yes, sir.”
When the door had closed behind him, the commissioner turned to examine Vivian. Whatever he was thinking, he hid it well. Vivian tried to stare back without any of her nerves showing, but she wasn’t sure she was succeeding.
He wasn’t a large man; Vivian thought he was shorter than Leo, and he didn’t have the muscled build of a man who worked with his hands or knew how to hold his own in a street fight. But those kinds of men would take one look at him and give him wide berth anyway. His clothes were polished, his hair pomaded, and a silver mustache curled above his mouth. But his expression was cold as he looked her over, as though she was an interesting, even irritating problem, but nothing as important as a person. Vivian wanted to shiver, but she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
At last, the commissioner spoke. “Let’s not waste time with pleasantries none of us care about. You’re in a difficult situation, Miss Kelly.”
She nodded. “That’s a hell of an understatement. Sir.”
“Well said.” Her agreement seemed to amuse him. “I’m glad you’re not inclined to argue.” He settled back in his chair, fingers steepling under his chin. “I let you walk out of that station today, Miss Kelly. Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t have Levinsky haul you back.”
Vivian swallowed. She clenched her hands in her lap so he wouldn’t see them shaking. “Because I didn’t kill him,” she said, as firmly as she could manage. “I think that should count for something.”
“Perhaps for something,” the commissioner said, still studying her. His finger dropped to drum briefly on the table before one side ofhis mouth lifted in a cynical smile, nearly hidden under his luxurious mustache. “But not for much, especially if you can’t prove it. Buchanan was a well-known man, and well-connected. There are people who will be clamoring for answers. For accountability. The sort of people I’d hate to disappoint. And the press will have a field day with it if I can’t give them a killer.”
“So you just offer her up, is that it?” Leo said. He spoke evenly, almost conversationally. But Vivian could hear the controlled anger in his voice. She wondered if his uncle could hear it, too. “I thought your fine officers could do better than that.”
The commissioner gave him a look that was almost pitying. “Mr. Green, your friend”—he gave the word a twist that Vivian didn’t like, though she couldn’t blame him for it—“was found with Buchanan’s dead body. She was the last person to see him alive, and the state she was in… Well. There’s isn’t a bleeding-heart do-gooder in this city—in the entire damn country—who would blame me for arresting her. And you know it.”
“Then what am I doing here?” Vivian asked quietly, wanting to insert herself back in the conversation before Leo was provoked into saying something unwise.
The commissioner gave her another emotionless glance. “You’re here out of the goodness of my heart, Miss Kelly.”
“You’re here because he likes it when folks on his payroll owe him favors,” Leo said softly, his eyes fixed on the man who would never acknowledge him as family. “And I haven’t owed him one this big in a long time.”
“But like any reprieve, yours won’t last forever,” the commissioner continued, ignoring his nephew. “You have one week of freedom, and you can do with it what you wish. But make no mistake, we will be keeping an eye on you.” He pointed at Leo, carelessly, dismissively, without even turning his head. “On both of you. And at the end of that week, if we don’t have another suspect in our custody, you’ll be under arrestonce more.” He leaned forward, his elbows propped up on the table and his fingers laced together in front of him. When he spoke, the menace in his soft, uncaring voice made her feel sick. “And the second time, Miss Kelly, it will be far more difficult for you to gain your freedom.”
He meant that she wouldn’t, of course. If she was arrested again, that would be it. Vivian swallowed against the fear in her stomach. “A lot can happen in a week,” she said defiantly, refusing to look away from him.
He smiled. “True. And if one of those things that happens is you skipping town, or if anyone helps you disappear, then I won’t have qualms paying a visit to, let’s say, a sister. Or a friend. Or a father.” He glanced at Leo again before turning back to Vivian. “There are all sorts of crimes happening in this city, you understand, just waiting for the perpetrators to be found.”
The sick feeling in Vivian’s stomach tightened into a knot. Of course he knew about Florence. Of course. She bit the inside of her cheek, the pain bringing some strength into her voice. “I understand,” she said, glad the words didn’t shake.
“Good girl,” he said.
