I winced at the close-up of Scarlett’s face. It was pale and bloated, scarcely recognizable. Some sick bastard had given her a Glasgow smile, slashing her face from the corners of her mouth to her ears. Even worse was the exposed gash in her neck where her throat had been slit.
Flask studied my reaction. “Toxicology tests show Ms. Flacco was rendered unconscious by a mixture of chloroform and other anesthetics. She was awakened at some point, as the raggedness of the facial cuts indicates a struggle. She was fully conscious when her face was being slashed. Probably when her throat was slit as well.”
I felt something boil inside. A raging beast writhed in my guts, clawing at my insides. I recognized the feeling. The last time I felt that kind of rage was when the Red-Eyed Killer butchered some friends of mine. I’d damn near ignited a citywide gang war with some of New Haven’s finest killers while wiping up that mess, but I had no regrets.
When you take something from me, you deserve what’s coming to you.
My eyes burned when I leaned forward, the words raw in my throat. “You know I didn’t kill the girl, Flask.”
He gazed at me for a long moment before turning to the bruiser. “Hey O’Hare. Why don’t you get a coffee or something?”
O’Hare had the nerve to look surprised. “You sure you wanna—”
Flask jerked his thumb toward the door. “Get a doughnut too while you’re at it. Go on, scram.”
O’Hare gave me one last warning glare before he exited the room, slamming the door shut. Flask turned his attention back to me.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you didn’t kill Ms. Flacco, Trubble. Slitting throats isn’t your style.”
I glared at him. “So what am I doing cooling my heels here, Flask? What’s all the dog and pony show about?”
He pulled a cheap gasper from a battered case and lit it. “You’re the only suspect we have right now. Protocol has to be followed. Besides, I had to get you out of your element. You’re on my turf now. Means you play by my rules unless you like your view obscured by prison bars.”
I leaned back in my chair. “You can only hold me for a few more hours before I walk. You’ve got nothing on me that sticks. No traces of anything but sex in that hotel room, no evidence of foul play on my part. No eyewitnesses, and no motive. So maybe you should just tip your mitts and tell me why I’m here, Flask.”
He sighed and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. For a long moment he didn’t say anything. When he finally spoke, it was as if reading off his own obituary.
“We’re going to have to require your services, Mick.”
I stared at him. “My
Flask’s face grew darker with every chuckle. “Don’t think I like this any more than you, Mick. But there’s a dead girl to think about, remember?”
That sobered me up right quick. “Right. What’s this about, Flask? What is it about this case that you and your boys can’t touch?”
He stared at me like I missed something very obvious. “You really didn’t know who she was, do you?”
I shrugged. “Last time I checked, she was a hotel clerk. Don’t know what she’s been doing the last couple of years. Lost track. We crossed paths out of the blue the other night. First time I’d seen her in a while.”
Flask exhaled a stream of gasper smoke. “Didn’t that last name ring any bells, Mick?”
I opened my mouth, then hesitated as it hit me. “You’re not saying—”
“Sophia Flacco is Moe Flacco’s daughter, Mick. Estranged, but still blood. And you know blood runs thick. So you understand the delicacy of the situation, and why police investigation is going to be severely limited.”
My throat tightened. “Moe Flacco. The head of the most powerful Borgata in New Haven.”
Flask nodded wearily. “That’s right. He wasn’t close with Sophia. Had some sort of falling out. Headstrong girl, you know how it is. The point is it doesn’t matter what their differences were. She’s dead now, and you can bet house dibs Flacco is already looking into the situation. He’s going to find out who she was with the night she died.”
Flask’s look of distress was so well acted he should have won an award. “And all trails lead to you. You’re in a lot more trouble than you know, Mick. You might want to consider renting out a room here for a while. Might be the safest place for you right now until we get this worked out.”
I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. “Appreciate the concern, Flask. But the killer is out there, and I got no chance of tracking him down if I’m holed up in the meat locker. Plus, Flacco can reach out and snuff me anytime he wants. Prison bars won’t even slow him down.”
I held up my wrists so he could remove the bracelets.
“Besides, I got a better idea.”