Hard Case Crime: Fake I.D. by Jason Starr Page A

down with something and I wanted to get to bed.”
    “Did you lock up the bar?”
    “Nah, like I said, there were still guys around in the kitchen. I figured they’d lock up.”
    Frank had come over toward me and the detective during my last answer and now he was listening to us.
    “When you were leaving,” the detective said to me, “did you see anybody suspicious outside the bar?”
    I shook my head. Then, just as the detective was about to ask me another question, I said, “Come to think of it, I did see Gary hanging out near the bar.”
    Now Frank and the detective were listening with wide-open eyes.
    “And what time was this?” the detective asked.
    “Right when I was leaving,” I said. “I didn’t think anything of it at the time—figured he was waiting to meet somebody—but now, come to think of it, it was kind of weird. I mean what the hell was he doing standing out there in the cold? He was like about ten yards up the block and he was just standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking down. I guess I figured he was waiting to meet one of his friends. Anyway, I said, ‘What’s up?’ or something like that, but he didn’t say anything to me so I just kept walking and went home.”
    When I finished talking, the detective stared at me for an extra second or two, but I didn’t flinch.
    “Thanks a lot,” he said. “You’re gonna be around here for a while, right?”
    “I’m just starting my shift,” I said smiling.
    “Good,” he said. “I might have to talk to you again in a little bit.”
    The detective walked away. I was proud of myself. I could’ve started making up stories—said Gary was still in the bar last night when I left, or that I saw him going into the safe. But what if Rodrigo or somebody else from the kitchen saw Gary leave? It would’ve made me look like I was lying, like I was trying to hide something. This way I looked even more innocent because why would I admit leaving the bar after Gary if I robbed the safe?
    Then I noticed Frank, standing there, shaking his head.
    “Don’t worry about it,” I said, putting a hand on his back. “There’s nothing you can do about it now anyway.”
    “How could a son do something like this to his father?” he said. “Huh? How could he?”
    I’d never seen Frank looking so beat up. Even when Debbie was cursing him out to his face, humiliating him, he never looked like he was about to start crying.
    I really felt bad for putting him through all this.
    “Where’s Gary now?” I asked.
    “Home, I thought,” Frank said. “The cops are out now, trying to find him.”
    “They better find our fuckin’ money too,” a guy who was listening in shouted. He was a big muscle-head Irish guy with red hair and a mustache. I’d seen him before. He was a regular of O’Reilley’s day crowd.
    “Don’t worry about it,” Frank told the guy and other people who were standing around. “Like I told you all before—if the money isn’t recovered, I’ll reimburse the pool out of my own pocket. The pool is one-hundred percent guaranteed.”
    “So who do you think did it?” the guy asked. “Your fuckin’ kid?”
    “It doesn’t matter who took the money,” Frank said, “all right? I said I’ll back the pool, so what difference does it make to anybody? Just forget about it—it’s over with.”
    The group of guys walked away, shouting about the robbery. When they were out of earshot Frank whispered to me, “I better talk to Gary—tell him no matter what happened last night to forget coming down here for a few days. One of these goons’ll kick the living crap out of him if he took that money or not.”
    Frank went to his office to try to call Gary and I went behind the bar and poured myself a pint of Sam Adams. I saw Kathy talking to the detective. She looked in my direction for a second, then turned away quickly. She was probably still upset at me for backing out of that showcase.
    The blond cop was standing near the door,