“I don’t think so,” Laurie said.
“Besides,” Lou said, “didn’t you say that these people were shooting the coke rather than sniffing it?”
“That’s right,” Laurie said.
“Well, how is someone going to stick a needle in someone who isn’t cooperating? I mean, don’t nurses in hospitals have a hard enough time sticking patients? Now you’re telling me some struggling victim who’s trying to just say no can get shot up against his will? Give me a break.”
Laurie closed her eyes. Lou had stumbled upon the weakest point of her homicide theory.
“If these people were being injected against their will, there would be signs of struggle. Have there been any?”
“No,” Laurie admitted. “At least I don’t think so.” She suddenly recalled the shattered statue in Julia’s apartment.
“The only other way I could conceive of this happening is if the victims had been drugged to beat the band with some kind of knockout cocktail beforehand. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you people at the M.E. office would have found a drug like that if there’d been one. Am I right?”
“You’re right,” Laurie conceded.
“Well, there you go,” Lou said. “I’m not going to fault you for considering homicide, but I think it’s a mighty remote possibility.”
“There are a few other facts I’ve discovered that have made me suspicious,” Laurie persisted. “I visited the apartment of one of the more recent overdose cases today, and the doorman said that on the evening the woman died, she’d come home with two men he’d never seen before.”
“Laurie, you can’t mean to tell me that the fact a woman comes home with two men the doorman doesn’t recognize has spawned this huge conspiracy theory. Is that it?”
“OK! OK!” Laurie said. “Go easy on me. Do you mind that I bring this stuff up? The problem is that these things are bothering me. It’s like a mental toothache.”
“What else?” Lou said patiently. “Out with it.”
“On two of the cases the respective girlfriend or boyfriend was called by the victim an hour or so before and asked to come over.”
“And?” said Lou.
“And nothing,” said Laurie. “That’s it. I just thought it was curious that these people who were allegedly hiding their drug abuse invited their non-druggie significant others over if they were planning a night of coked-out debauchery.”
“These two could have called for a million different reasons. I don’t think either had any idea this trip was going to turn out the way it did. If anything, it’s more support for self-administration. They probably believed in the popular myth of cocaine’s aphrodisiac powers and wanted their playmates to be available at the height of their turn-on.”
“You must think I’m nuts,” Laurie said.
“Not at all,” Lou insisted. “It’s good to be suspicious, particularly in your line of work.”
“Thank you for the consult. I appreciate your patience.”
“My pleasure,” Lou said. “Any time you want to run something by me, don’t hesitate.”
“I enjoyed dinner very much,” Laurie said. “But I think I’d better be thinking of getting home. I still have to make good on my plans to get some work done.”
“If you liked this restaurant,” Lou said, “I’d love to take you to one in Queens. It’s out in the middle of a real Italian neighborhood. Authentic Northern Italian cuisine. How about tomorrow night?”
“Thank you for asking,” Laurie said, “but I do have plans.”
“Of course,” Lou said sarcastically. “How could I forget Dr. Limo.”
“Lou, please!” Laurie said.
“Come on,” Lou said, pushing back his chair. “I’ll take you home. If you can stand my humble, stripped-down Caprice.”
Laurie rolled her eyes.
Franco Ponti pulled his black Cadillac up in front of the Neapolitan Restaurant on Corona Avenue up the street from the Vesuvio and got out. The valet recognized him and rushed over to assure him that good care would be taken of his car. Franco gave the valet a ten-dollar bill and walked through the door.
At that hour on a Friday night, the restaurant was in full swing. An accordion player went from table to table serenading the customers. Between the laughter and din, an air of conviviality marked the evening. Franco paused for a moment, just inside the red velvet curtain separating the foyer from the dining area. He easily spotted Vinnie Dominick, Freddie Capuso, and Richie Herns at one of the upholstered booths along with a pair of buxom, miniskirted bimbos.