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Carmine's eyebrows shot up to hishairline, genuine shock registering on his doughy mug. ‘Wait, what? Those twomooks from the news? The ones they found strung up in Chautauqua Park andbehind the strip club? That was them?’
Ella had to fight back the crushing weightin her gut. The news had already reached the masses. Edis was going to give heran earful tomorrow morning.
Luca nodded. ‘Bingo.’
Carmine slumped back in his seat as thepleather creaked under his bulk. He ran a meaty paw over his face and blew outa long, slow breath.
‘Cavolo. I mean, I ain't exactlysurprised. Those two, they were always lookin' for trouble. Always sloshed. Ihad to bounce them out of here a few times.’
Luca asked, ‘You or your staff ever getphysical with them?’
Carmine's eyes bugged out of his head likea pair of runny eggs. 'What? Nah, nothin' like that. I ain't never laid afinger on them, and neither did my crew. I run a respectable joint here.'
Ella's gaze drifted to the counter, wherethe zit-faced kid and a couple of other grease-stained goons were millingabout. She studied each face in turn, looking for a tell, a twitch, anythingthat might ping her radar.
The kid was out, too scrawny andpock-marked to fit the profile. Ditto for the old guy flipping pies in theback, his hands shaking like a junkie in withdrawal.
But the third guy was younger,mid-twenties maybe, with a wiry build and a shaved head gleaming under theharsh kitchen lights. The way he moved, the coiled energy in his stance.Something about him made Ella's cop senses tingle.
She filed him away for later, a mentalsnapshot to run through the database. See if their mystery man had any priors,any history of violence.
‘What about a vendetta?’ she asked,turning back to Carmine. ‘Word is, Bolton took some potshots at this place onsocial media. Posted a real nasty review, called you out by name. Maybe someoneon your payroll took offense and decided to teach her a lesson?’
Carmine barked out a laugh. ‘Are youkiddin' me? You think we care what some drunken skank says about us on theinternet? We're doin' business like never before, lady.’
Ella's jaw clenched. This guy's lack ofremorse was getting under her skin, but she couldn't exactly collar him forbeing a callous prick. She needed evidence, a smoking gun. Something to tie himor his goons to the murders.
‘Where were you the past two nights?’ Lucachimed in. ‘Say, between the hours of midnight and four AM?’
Carmine spread his hands. ‘Same place Ialways am, detective. Right here, slingin' pies and keepin' the peace. Me andmy whole crew, we were on the clock 'til the wee hours. Got the timecards toprove it. CCTV footage too.’
Frustration simmered in Ella's gut, butshe doused it with a hefty dose of saliva. 'We'll need to see it.'
Carmine held up a meaty paw. ‘Hold yourhorses. Lemme grab the proof.’
He heaved himself out of the booth, thevinyl sighing in relief, and lumbered towards the back.
‘What do you think?’ Luca asked.
She made sure no one could hear. ‘I thinkhe’s living up to the stereotype. But I don’t think he’s involved,’ sheadmitted.
A minute later, Carmine returned, afistful of timecards clutched in his hamhock of a hand. ‘There ya go,detective. Read 'em and weep.’
Ella snatched up the cards and scanned therows of names and numbers.
Each line was another nail in the coffinof her hunch.
Three PM to three AM. Every singleemployee had punched in and out at the same time, just like Carmine said. Aregular Kumbaya circle-jerk of punctuality.
According to the autopsy reports, bothvictims had been killed around midnight – around six hours before they werediscovered. At their times of death, Carmine and his workers had beenelbow-deep in pizza bases.
Which meant they were all off the hook.
‘We'll still need the CCTV footage,’ shesaid as she tossed the cards back on the table. ‘Visual confirmation you wereall present and accounted for.’
Carmine's smirk could've greased a fleetof frying pans. ‘Sure thing, sweetheart. You got a card? I'll have my boy Ginoemail it over.’
Ella dug in her pocket and flicked hercard across the table like a ninja star. ‘Make it snappy. And if I catch onewhiff of editing, I'll be back with a warrant and a pack of rabid dogs.’
