paperwork.”
“He could come meet us if you think it’s necessary. He is your partner.”
“Believe me, he’s happier at the stationhouse. If things heat up, he’ll get off his ass.”
“You two make a heck of a team.”
“He does his job.”
“I’m sure, but not an iota more.”
“He’s got sixteen years in. He’s just coasting through the last four to earn his full pension. He’s not alone. Lotta guys like that.”
“Not you, Vic.”
“Nah. Me, I’m half martyr, half crusader. I still think I can do some good.”
I laughed. “A few more years with Tate and that asshole Howie Barnes and you’ll learn.”
“Not me. I’m not like that.”
“I know.”
We got off at the Houston Street exit and pulled over close to the building. As usual, there were no legal spots. So we left the car in front and walked up to the door. There was a doorstop propping open the front door, and we walked right in.
“May I help you?” Asked a doorman in a dark blue uniform sitting at a desk with a newspaper and a cup of coffee lying on top. He looked mid-fifties and spoke in a polite and polished tone.
Vic flashed his badge and said, “I’m Detective Ortega with the NYPD.”
“Yes, officer. How may I help you today? Are you here to see someone?”
“Actually, maybe you can help us.”
“I can try.” He took a gulp from the white Styrofoam cup then licked his lips.
“We’re investigating the disappearance of a girl who lives here. Nicole Leifson .”
“Sure. We’re all really worried about Nicki.”
“Then you know her.”
“Of course. I’ve been working here over twenty years. I remember the day she was born.”
“So she’s about what, nineteen?”
“Yes, I believe she is nineteen.”
“Her parents must be wealthy to afford this place.”
He nodded sheepishly. “No one in this building is exactly a pauper.”
“Of course,” Vic continued. “So listen, I don’t want to pry, but it’s my job. You sit out here, you must know who comes and goes. And who they come and go with.”
“Sure.”
“So, who did Nicole…Nicki?”
“Yes, Nicki.”
“Who did Nicki spend her time with?”
He looked both ways to make sure we were alone. “It’s not my place to pass judgment on people, but since you asked, and since she’s missing for so long, I have to be honest.”
“Please.”
“Nicki was a good kid before she starting hanging out with this other rich girl. Then she changed.”
“Another rich girl?”
“Yeah. Mackenzie Blake. You probably heard of her father. Thomas Blake.”
Victor shot me a look like maybe he thought I’d been holding out. I shrugged to let him know this was news to me too.
“I’ve heard of Thomas Blake,” Vic said. “So Nicki and Mackenzie Blake were pals?”
“That’s an understatement. They spent night and day together. Those two were regular B.F.F.s.”
“B.F.F.?” Vic asked.
“You know, best friends forever.”
Vic and I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. He joined in as well.
“Did they really talk like that?” I didn’t figure this guy made up a term like B.F.F.
“Oh, yeah. Those two were like the Bobbsey twins. Dyed their hair the same color. Same clothes. Same handbags and jewelry. If I wasn’t looking closely, I couldn’t tell them apart.”
“So, you say Mackenzie Blake was a bad influence on Nicki?” Victor took control of the questioning again, and I sat back and jotted some notes.
“Oh, yeah. She was real trouble that one. I knew from the minute I laid eyes on her. Sometimes you just know.”
“Sure. I know what you mean. But can you give us some examples?”
“They’d come stumbling in late some nights, reeking of booze and pot. I’m no moron, I know the smell. But it was more than that. Some nights, those two would sniff cocaine, right in my lobby.”
“That must be awkward for you.”
“Damn right it is. I don’t want to be the guy to complain to Mr. Leifson . He’s a nice guy. Works hard.
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