It was said sympathetically, without any sarcasm or cruelty, but itstill hit Vivian like a punch to the gut. Behind her, she heard Bea suck in a breath. On the other side of the bar, Danny looked like he was ready to leap over the counter and start swinging. He wasn’t pouring drinks anymore, just watching to see what the cop would do, even though he kept his distance.
Vivian decided not to answer the question. “What are you drinking?”
Levinsky glanced down at his glass. “Honestly, I got no idea. I haven’t even tried it yet, I just had to order something.” He looked a little embarrassed. “I’m not much of… with the new baby, you know. I’m either working or at home.”
Vivian gave him a smile, trying to pretend that her heart wasn’t pounding. “Let me get you something good,” she suggested, turning to Danny.
He was watching them; when Vivian caught his eye, he made the shape of a C with his hand against the counter, his eyebrows raised in question. Vivian nodded, but she crossed her fists low in front of her at the same time, pulling them apart in the club’s sign for “safe.” The exchange barely took half a second, and Vivian didn’t think Levinsky had noticed. Then Danny was smiling too, friendly and unthreatening, as he gathered his ingredients with a flourish. A moment later, he was sliding a glass across the bar to Levinsky.
The cop gave it a wary glance. “What is it?”
“It’s called a Corpse Reviver,” Vivian said. “Just the thing to perk up a new dad.” Over her shoulder, she heard Danny give a short laugh as he went back to work, though she knew that was mostly for show; he’d still be keeping an eye on Levinsky, even with Vivian letting him know that things were, at least for the moment, okay.
The cop took a tentative sip. “That’s pretty good. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Vivian leaned one elbow against the bar. “Did the commissioner send you to check up on me?”
“Actually…” Levinsky glanced around, as if worried his boss might be lurking at the other end of the bar. “He doesn’t know I’m here. I was hoping to run into your friend.”
“Leo?” Vivian asked, trying not to look too surprised. They had seemed like they knew each other, but not well enough for Levinsky to seek him out on anything but orders. Unless they had a closer relationship than she realized… Over Levinsky’s shoulder, Bea caught her eye, looking wary. “He’s got a job tonight, so I’m not sure when he’ll turn up. Need me to deliver a message?”
“No…” Levinsky hesitated, turning his glass in nervous circles on the bar. The band was playing a bright quickstep, loud enough that it would be difficult for anyone sitting even a couple seats away to overhear them. Still, he leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “Well, depends. I had news for him, about the Buchanan family. Which I guess means news for you, too.”
Vivian took a slow breath. “And what’s the cost of this news?”
Levinsky frowned, staring down into his glass. “I know how this game is supposed to work,” he said quietly. “I’ve played it before when I have to. But it’s not one I enjoy.” He met her eyes. “I took this job for two reasons, you know. My family needed money. And I wanted to help people.”
Vivian couldn’t help the skeptical snort that escaped her, and she heard a similar scoff from Bea. Levinsky jumped, glanced back over his shoulder as if he’d just realized someone else was there. When he saw Bea, though, he relaxed.
“You got a nice set of pipes, kid,” he said, giving her a quick smile.
“Thanks,” she replied, taking the stool on his other side. “You got a naïve way of looking at the world.”
“Maybe,” he admitted. “But you think catching a murderer doesn’t help people?”
“Depends on whether that’s what you and your boys do,” Bea pointed out. “How likely do you think it is?”
Levinsky grimaced, then took a sip of his drink to cover the expression. “That really is good,” he said, sounding surprised.
“He’s known for it,” Vivian said, tilting her head toward Danny,who was still keeping an eye on them. Even if Levinsky wasn’t there for a raid, he could still cause trouble.
“I’ve heard.” Levinsky nodded, studying Danny, then turning his scrutiny on her. Vivian wanted to squirm, but she met his gaze steadily, waiting to see what he’d decide. The cop sighed. “Like I said, I’ve played it when I have to. But we’re gonna say this is me paying back a favor I owe, okay? Let’s say it’s because Mr. Green helped my dad out when he was going to lose his shop a few years back. And you’re Leo’s girl, yeah?”
“Yeah, you could say that,” Vivian said quietly.
Levinsky just shrugged. “I don’t know him much myself; he ain’t been around, but he doesn’t seem like the easiest fella to trust. But his dad’s good people. And you…” He looked her up and down, then shrugged again. “Well, just say those Buchanans don’t seem like they’re telling us everything they could.”
“Like what?” Vivian asked. He seemed like a decent enough guy, but she had a hard time believing everything he said.
Levinsky hesitated again, taking another drink to buy time, then seemed to make up his mind all in a rush. “The wife, Mrs. Buchanan,” he said, lowering his voice. “She’s got nothing to say about where she was all day. Says that it’s nonsense to ask her for an alibi, as if she’d kill her own husband. But if she was somewhere harmless, why not just say so?”
Her own husband hadn’t known where she was, Vivian remembered. There were plenty of reasons a woman might be running late for an appointment, of course—especially an appointment with someone she didn’t consider an equal, someone like a dressmaker. But Levinsky was right—why not just say so?
He wasn’t done, though. “And that stepson, Rokesby? He seems like a sly piece of work and then some. Getting in on his stepdad’s business like that, and after just a few years of him being married to his mom?” He leaned forward, looking eager to share what he knew at last. “Plus, he says he was with friends that day, but he’s given us four or five different names and says he can’t remember which of themwere around. And all of them have told us different things about what they were up to, so it sounds like the lot of them are just making it up.”
“And no one’s following up on that?” Bea demanded.
Levinsky shrugged. “We’re looking into it, sure. One of the maids in his house said he keeps an appointment book, so we asked to see it. And he got real angry.” Levinsky rolled his eyes. “Said we had no business asking the staff about his personal papers—and what else are the police supposed to do? He claimed that he never kept any such thing as an appointment book in his life. And then my pal Connors said he overheard the housekeepersackingthat poor girl who had mentioned it. For indi—whatsit—indiscretion, which apparently means not doing a good enough job keeping your mouth shut—even when someone got himself bumped off.” Levinsky took a long drink and shook his head. “Connors says that’s just what some folks are like, think they can make us all dance around them like puppets. But it seems damn fishy to me. If they’ve got nothing to hide, they can say so. And now that poor girl’s out of a job.”
