---

......Eulogio Vega thought about maybe working out. Then he thought about maybe playing Metroid Prime. But as he moved toward the video game, the doorbell rang.

......He saw his cousin Mildred through the front window.

......"E," she said. "How you doing, baby?"

......Her moon-round face, framed by wildly kinetic hair dyed auburn, was beaming at him. He beamed back as best he could. Then he noticed another woman and a thin, older man standing next to Mildred.

......"What's up?"

......"Open up. I got a favor to ask."

......Vega sighed, slumping his large shoulders. He padded heavily back through his apartment and then forward through the hallway to the front door.

......Mildred gave him a wet kiss on the cheek and hugged him. "You need a shave. I told these people you could help them. They live in my building."

......"They got a computer problem?"

......"No, stupid. They need a detective."

......"Mildred, that's not what I do."

......"You work at that detective place. I promised you would help them. It's not that hard. They just wanna find their son. You could do it with your computer."

......"But--"

......"Just listen to them. As a favor to me."

......"Okay."

......The woman's name was Cookie Cortez. She was egg-shaped and outfitted in stretch pants and a Mets sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, gray curls sticking out. Her eyes, heavily shadowed, were red and full of sadness. She sat in the only chair in Vega's kitchen, a gray folding chair. The older man stood behind her. Jesus Lugo. Black hair slicked back. Red, pinched face. Bulging, green eyes.

......"My son Danny is missing. Jesus, he is his stepfather ," Cookie said. "We have not seen him for five days. He's just seventeen."

......"Have you tried the cops?" Vega said.

......"They can't do that," Mildred said. "Jesus es un boletero. You know what that is, right?"

......A numbers bookie. "Sure," Vega said.

......"There's money missing," Cookie said. "And they're gonna think Danny took it."

......"Did he?"

......"Eulogio!" Mildred smacked him on the shoulder.

......"My son is a not a thief," Cookie said.

......But Jesus added, "Cookie, amor, we don't know."

......"¡Ay cayete! Tu no sabes!"

......"How much money is missing?" Vega said.

......"Ten thousand dollars," Jesus said, then, more softly, "Diez mil dólares."

......Vega scratched his bristly chin, turned to Cookie, "Do you have a picture of Danny?"

......She did. Danny Cortez looked surly, eyes half closed, mouth half open.

......"His junior high graduation," she said.

......"Would he have any other reason to run away?" Vega said. "Since you say he didn't take the money?"

......"Well," Cookie said, raising her dark eyebrows. "There's a girl..."

* * * * *

......Valiant Security International occupied the entire fifth floor of an office building on East 43rd. The information technology department took up a corner of the office, and Vega's cubicle was in a corner of that corner.

......At work he wore a thin black tie and a short-sleeved shirt. When the phone rang, he picked it up and said, "Help Desk." He listened a few moments, then explained to the caller the process of rebooting.

......After that, he played a half-hearted game of Minesweeper. On the wall above him was a picture of Vega in a military police uniform standing next to another soldier, a thin black man wearing shades.

......The man from the picture popped his head over the wall of the cubicle. He had on a pair of shades.

......"You looking at porn again?"

......"Hey, Reid," Vega said, smiling. "How's it going, old man?"

......"Can't complain," Reid said. "I got your message. What's the good news?"

......Vega told him about Danny Cortez and Reid said, "He could be a gigolo in L.A. by now. or eating origami in Japan."

......"Sushi."

......"Sushi."

......"You think I should back out of it, then?"

......"Nah. I think this will do you good. Get you off your fat computer-geek ass."

a sp"Thanks a lot," Vega said, turning back to his computer screen. “Probably a simple case anyway, right?"

......"Now I didn't say that. But listen, make sure the higher-ups don't find out about this."

......"Got it."

* * * * *

......That night Vega took the J train to Marcy Avenue, then walked the half mile to the Clemente Projects on Division Avenue. It was a cool early summer night, but he was sweating when he got there.

......The security desk stood empty in the lobby. The elevator smelled of urine, the hall of brussels sprouts. The doorbell didn't work. Vega knocked and got no answer. He waited. Looked up and down the hall.

......Knocked again. Nothing.

......He pounded on the door and finally a short, bald man with a thin mustache answered. His face was angry until he looked up at Vega.

......"I'm Eulogio Vega. I called earlier.."

......The furniture was covered in yellowing plastic, and when Vega sat it made a crumpling and a whooshing sound.

.....The man nodded, limply shook Vega's hand, told him to take a seat. Down a brief, narrow hallway was the living room. A woman sat there watching TV. She didn't get up.

......The man joined her in staring at the TV. The man whispered to the woman. The woman yelled, "Lissette! Get out here! A man wants to talk to you!"

......A thickset girl of about fifteen walked in and sat opposite Vega on the couch. She had a bag of potato chips in her hand.

......Vega introduced himself and said. "I'm looking for Danny Cortez."

......"You gonna arrest him?" She answered between crunches. There was bright red lipstick on her teeth.

......"No, I don't arrest people. I just want to find Danny."

......"Why you askin' me?"

......"According to his mother, you're his girlfriend."

......She sucked her teeth. "She don't know what she's talkin' about. We was talkin' for a while, but that's all."

......"Maybe you know where he is anyway?"

......No more chips, nothing to do with her hands. "No," she said.

......"You don't know where he's staying?"

......She sucked her teeth. "I ain't gonna tell you nothing. I ain't gotta tell you nothing. You ain't even a real cop."

......"He could be in trouble. His mother . . . ."

......"What do I care? That lady just wants the boy's money."

......"You know about the money?"

......"Yessssss." The teeth-sucking again.

......"Danny could get into a lot of trouble because of that money. You know that."

......"I ain't gonna tell you where he's at because I don't know. But sometimes he hangs out at this bar in the Northside."

......"What bar?"

* * * * *

......Teddy's Bar & Grill. Only two customers were leaning on the bar when Vega walked in. A pretty blonde bartender looked very bored. Vega ordered a domestic beer and asked the bartender where everyone was on a Saturday night.

......"The Spore."

......"The Spore?"

......She handed him an orange flyer from a stack on the bar

......The words wrapped around a picture of what looked like a smiling tank made out of metal spikes. The address on the bottom of the flyer was on Wythe Avenue, by the river.

......"Thanks for the beer."

......Vega decided to walk. He heard the music from three blocks away, a thumping cacophony. The Spore was located in a large warehouse. A sign in front read: "Spore $25."

......At the entrance a young man with a spiky hair, shades and no chin stood by an old-fashioned subway turnstile. Vega showed him Danny's picture. "You seen this kid around?"

......"Wow, man, are you a cop?"

......"Private."

......"Wow, a shamus, a P.I. Like, what's the rumpus, gumshoe?"

......"Have you seen this kid?"

......The blue-haired man took the picture and stared at it. The shades made it found it hard for Vega to tell what the man's eyes were looking at. Finally, the chinless guy said, "Maybe, maybe not."

......"Can I look inside?"

......"Twenty-five bucks, man. And you should ask Lime if it's okay."

......"Lime?"

......"Lime Orange. He's in charge. You'll see him. He's got the green tux and the acid Mickey tee."

......Vega paid and went through the turnstile. People were packed in there, masses of black hair, fuschia hair, goatees, pierced faces, tattoos. The music was so loud it took up space as well.

......Before Vega moved ten feet, a man in a green tuxedo jacket and black jeans walked right in front of him. On the man's T-shirt was a cartoon of Mickey Mouse with six eyes and four white-gloved hands. The man himself had a metal ring that pierced his left nostril. A puff of very black hair hung off his chin. His head was shaved to a stubble.

......"Hey, you the private eye?" the man said, smirking.

......"Yeah. you the Lime Green?"

......"Lime Orange, yes."

......"The tux threw me. Sorry." Vega smirked back, but Orange's expression was blank. "Well, have you seen this kid around?"

......Orange grabbed the photo of Cortez and held it close to his face for a long time. Finally, he said, "I've got, like, a lot of local artists here. That's what this is about. I organized this. We are showing solidarity and the spirit of Williamsburg. I don't mind if you look around. And I hope you enjoy the show."

......Vega took back the picture and began walking through the exhibits. It was tough to see through the whirling lights and areas of dimness and groups of people wearing black or flannel. The art was equally dark. On one wall, he saw a series of paintings of what looked like medical scars blown up a thousand percent. Next to that was an animatronic Santa Claus with its pot belly carved open to reveal a bloody baby. The Santa said, "Merry Christmas." Vega shook his head. In the next area he saw a series of black and white photographs of faces. They looked like people he knew, neighborhood faces, old faces.

......"Now these I like," he said.

......He turned to the corner to a larger open area. A huge thing dominated the space. It was the tank advertised on the flyer. A good twenty-feet long, it was made of railroad spikes and copper and plastic pipes bent and soldered together. The front of the tank smiled a wide, spiked Cheshire smile. On a wooden post a plaque at eye-level read: "RAPEPILLAGESLASHBURN by Lime Orange. Mixed Media, 1997."

......"I present my homage to the Vikings." Orange was suddenly next to him. "I worked on this for over three years." Orange held a beer bottle in his hand, close to his mouth, but he didn't drink from it. He circled around the tank in front of Vega. "I got lucky with the pipes though--they're from a factory that was going out of business."

......Vega tried to walk around the tank to the left, but Orange moved with him, blocking the way. Then through the ribs of the tank, Vega saw a flash of white sneaker at floor level. Someone was running. He took a step back and saw the young face.

......"Danny!"

......Cortez was over the turnstile and outside in seconds. Vega pushed through the turnstile and ran after him. The kid was already two blocks away. Vega swore. "Fucking teenager."

......After three blocks of running, Vegas' sides hurt, but he focused on the kid's sneakers, which stood out in the darkness between street lamps.

......Danny zigzagged toward the Northside. He headed across the street when a station wagon pulled out from a parking spot and clipped him. The driver cursed. Danny flipped in the air, went down. Long enough for Vega to close the distance between them to half a block.

......The kid made a turn onto Bedford. Vega picked up his pace and turned the corner in time to see the kid head for the L train. Vega ran down the stairs. He heard clicks and dings and then "Stand clear of the closing doors." The L train to Manhattan was pulling out. Vega could see Danny smirking at him from inside a car. The smirk pulled out of view.

......"Shit," said Vega. Then he saw the back of the train. The gate sticking out at the end. He ran to meet it, as the train was picking up speed.

......He reached and held onto the gate. It pulled hard at him, yanking his arms almost out of their sockets. He landed his feet on the back platform just as the train moved into darkness. Sweat dripped dripping down his back and his side ached as if he'd been speared. He could see inside of the back car. A little girl waved at him with one hand and picked her nose with the other.

......Suddenly, the train bumped into something on the tracks, making the cars shake. Vega slipped.

......He hit the tracks hard. The train pulled away into the darkness, and Vega lay on his back, something screaming in his ribs, his legs cramped from running. He crawled, then walked back to the Bedford Avenue stop. A beefy lady transit worker stood on the platform. She looked at him and shook her head.

......In the light Vega saw parts of his pants and jacket were ripped and that he was bleeding through the rips. The worker helped him back on the platform. He told her who he was, showed her ID. She said, "Go to a doctor or something, mister. Get yourself checked out. Batman you ain't."

* * * * *

......When Vega woke up, he was on the couch in his cousin's apartment. A miniature Doberman sat on his chest and barked as if it had just conquered him in some battle. Vega could not move. His body felt like a double-tied shoelace knot. Eventually, he picked the dog off his chest and began to hobble like a crab over to the door. It seemed to take days.

......"Where you going?" It was Mildred, with a spatula in her hand. Her hair was dyed red now and looked like a burning halo around her head.

......"I have to get home."

......"Get back on that couch. You're not going nowhere."

......He realized he had only moved two feet from the couch.

......She continued to talk to him from the kitchen. "I'm sorry I made you do this. I thought you could find that kid one, two, three."

......"It's never that easy," Vega said, so softly he might as well have been speaking to himself.

......Mildred brought him a tray of eggs, sweet plantains, toast, coffee, and four aspirin. He ate, then fell asleep. When he woke up, the apartment was quiet. Mildred was out with the dog.

......He rose stiffly from the couch and slowly, very slowly made his way home. After a hot shower, he got dressed then called a car service. He went back to The Spore.

......Vega put on his glasses and got out of the car with his black vinyl briefcase. He could hear some music but not as loud as it had been. There was no one at the front door this time, but it was open. It was barely lit in there. The art pieces seemed more humble to him now, more modest. He headed toward what looked like an office.

......From around a corner someone walked in carrying a large frame. He could see a woman's feet in clogs underneath it. The frame was one of the black and white photographs of faces. An ancient old man's face. Vega felt like the picture looked.

......"Hello," Vega said.

......"Oh sorry," the woman said, peeking out from behind the frame. She was thin and pale but she had thick lips and a thick nose. Her black hair was short and curly, with a streak of purple in it.

......"Is that one of yours?"

......"Sure is."

......"You did all the black and white faces?"

......"Sure did."

......"I liked them. I may not know much about art, but those were my favorites."

......"Thank you," she said, and for the first time she smiled. "That's very sweet of you to say. I know some people think I'm not the most radical, innovative artist, but..."

......"They're great."

......"You've got a great face. I'd love to photograph you."

......Vega could feel himself blushing. "My fat face?"

......"Well, maybe so. But it has a lot of character, a lot of strength. Very ethnic, too. My name is Anya, by the way." She put the frame down and leaned it against her hips. She stuck out her hand and he shook it.

......"Eulogio Vega."

......"So, what can I do for you, Eulogio? Are you a collector?"

......Vega handed her his business card. "Actually, I'm a private investigator." His heart was beating faster with the lie. There was no license in his pocket to back him up.

......"This says, 'Computer technology specialist.'"

......"Internet fraud. That's my speciality. But that's not what I'm here for."

......Are you here to see Lime?"

......"Actually, yeah."

......"He's right behind you."

......Vega turned and there was Orange, in a work apron and carrying a soldering iron.

...... Orange said to the woman: "Listen, babe, why don't you go unpack the new art? We got people moving in a lot of stuff in today."

......"Is something going on? Lime, what's wrong?"

......"Anya, I won't tell you twice. Unpack the art. We got a lot of shit to do today. Please."

......Vega thought she was about to yell, but instead she picked up the picture and walked away. When she was gone, Lime Orange said, "Sorry. I don't mean to be a prick. But she's kinda ditzy. And she worries about the wrong things."

......"What should she worry about?"

......"Getting all our new artwork up. Yeah, I have a great success on my hands. I have to keep it going."

......"Sounds great," said Vega, who looked around for a place to sit. He legs felt like chewed gum.

......"C'mon, let me show you something." Orange led him to the side of the warehouse and through a door that led to dark, wooden steps.

......"I met Danny a few months back," Orange said. "I saw that he was interested in art. So I started asking him to run errands and stuff, and eventually I let him help me hang stuff and put in sound equipment, and every once in a while I let him stay here."

......"Here?"

......"Yeah, I think he has a problematic home life, you know. I guess he comes here to escape. This is his spot."

......An old red futon mattress lay flat on the floor. There was an empty box of cereal and a bowl. On the floor was a large drawing pad, with the graffiti tag "GhostD" on the front. On the floor was a brown cigar box, with the same tag on it.

......"So you don't know where he is?"

......"No idea, man. But if he comes back I'll let you know."

......Vega handed him a card. "I'd appreciate it."

* * * * *

......On Monday morning, the offices of Valiant Security International were busy. Phones trilled, operatives rushed about. Alone in his cubicle, Vega ignored a pile of assignment sheets, to install new operating systems, or DVD drives, and performed a quick public record search. Lime Orange's real name was Michael Cooper, he was 29, from Ohio, had a large trust fund, and a modestly successful art and music career. Vega found an elaborate Web site that featured news about the artist and his projects. Hed also had some trouble as a teenager--a DWI and a marijuana possession charge--but since then, nothing.

......"Hmmm," Vega said to himself. Then he noticed the phone had been ringing. "Help desk."

......When he got home that night, Vega was still felt like one giant sore spot. His left side felt particularly useless. Under his right armpit, he carried one six pack and in his right hand, along with his briefcase, he carried another six pack. He had to set them all down in order to open the door to his basement apartment.

......Inside, he stepped on the back of one shoe then another to get them off. He popped open one beer, then picked up his game console. He stared at the screen. Then put down the console and picked up the phone. He dialed Orange. An answering machine came on that suggested visiting his Web site. Or leaving a message. Have an incredible day and an amazing life. Vega put down the phone.

......He drained the first beer in under 20 seconds. The second in 45.

* * * * *

......Vega had a vague idea of what he needed to find out next. He took the next afternoon off, claiming a doctor's appointment.

......Jorge's Pet Emporium was located on Grand Street, squeezed between La Luna Botanica and the Great Wall Chinese Take-out. A sign in the window read "Aquarium and Pet Supplies, Birds and Tackle." Two scrawny puppies scrambled over each other in a window display. When Vega pushed through the front door a bell rang somewhere.

......The humid smell of fish, fish food, and fish byproduct hit him. To his right, a tired-looking man bent over a tank of golden-red guppies. Down the main aisle, huddled around the cash register, were four men. They stopped talking when Vega walked up to them. One of the men said, "Lo puedo ayudar?"

......"I need to see Antonio."

......"Quién es?"

......"Eulogio Vega."

......The first man nodded, and one of the other men turned and went behind a curtain to a back room. Vega watched the tired man clean out a tank. It took a long time.

......The second man emerged from the curtain and pointed his chin at Vega and then the curtain. Vega ducked and went down a narrow hallway to a small office. The man Vega knew as Antonio stood at a desk shaking hands with an Asian man in a guayabera. Antonio did a little bow and the Asian man bowed back and they both laughed. Then the Asian man left, giving Vega a broad smile as he passed him.

......"Eulogio! A face from the past!" Antonio said. "Good to see you, bro." He came around the desk and hugged him. Antonio's head was shaved almost completely bald. He wore slacks and a shiny shirt. Around him was a dense cloud of cologne. "Sit down, sit down."

......Vega sat at the desk. "It's good to see you, Antonio. Been a long time."

......"You want something to eat? Adolfo, get us something to eat!"

......One of the other men ran out of the room.

......"So whatchoo you doing now? Last I heard you did a hitch in the army."

......"That was a long time ago," Vega said.

......"I figured you made it out of the 'hood."

......"How about you? I thought you wanted to be a doctor."

......"I found a more suitable career, sabes?"

......"I understand."

......"And you, you become a doctor, lawyer, something like that."

......"I'm doing some investigative work."

......Antonio looked into Vega's eyes. "You a cop, man?"

......"No, no, nothing like that. I work with computers."

......"Computers? You was always smart."

......The man who ran out came back with a plate of egg rolls, dumplings, two bowls of rice, and a pot of tea. "Have some tea. Better for you than coffee," Antonio said, and as he poured he looked at Vega and added, "So I know you're not here to shoot the shit."

......"Look, I need to ask you about somebody in your organization."

......"My organization?" Antonio blew onto his tea and looked Vega in the eyes. "This doesn't sound like it has to do with computers. But you're my homeboy, and you're smart, like I said."

......"Thanks."

......"I cannot guarantee that I will have an answer for you. But you can ask. And before I answer, you owe me."

......"Fine."

......"Good. You go first."

......Vega had just been about to bite into an egg roll. He put it back down on his napkin.

......"Are you missing $10,000?" he said.

......Antonio shrugged. "I'm missing money all over the place. Sometimes it comes back. Sometimes I never see it again. Like love. You saying you know somebody who took money from me?"

......"Well, let me ask--what would you do if somebody had taken ten grand from you?"

......"We had a guy called Sammy UFO took $50,000 from me last year and ran off to South America. Like I was going to chase him. It's not worth the hassle--I make that kind of money back in a day. I'm just a local business man you know? Now, I see him in front of me, that's a different story, sabes?"

......Vega was chewing on a dumpling. He said, "What can you tell me about Jesus Lugo?"

......"Hold on. Manny!" Antonio yelled and one of the men came in. "Check the books for Jesus." The man went to a file cabinet and pulled out a notebook. In the meantime, Vega finished three pork dumplings.

......"Lugo's accounts are clean," Manny said.

......Antonio sipped more tea. "Jesus has been with me for more than diez y seis años. He skims every now and then, but he ain't got the balls to take $10,000 at a pop. What have you heard, man?"

......"Maybe his stepson swiped ten grand from him."

......"Shit. You think I would do something to his kid? For ten grand?"

......"The kid's missing, Antonio. Over a week now. I'm not saying anything--"

......"I know what you're trying to say, and I ain't offended. Believe me, I know my reputation, and I like it. But I don't even know this kid. If anything, maybe Jesus took out him out. Drove him to Coney Island and threw him off the Cyclone."

......The other men in the room laughed.

......Manny closed the cabinet and, between laughs, said, "The only thing Jesus cares about is his little girlfriend."

......"Girlfriend?"

......"Some sixteen-year-old puta. What's her name? Lives in the projects down by the Clemente Projects. I see Jesus picking her up there all the time."

......"That helps," Vega said.

......"I think of anymore I'll let you know."

......"Thanks."

......"Good," said Antonio. "You got something. Now it's my turn. Your favor to me."

......Vega put down his tea, took a deep breath.

......Antonio turned and pointed to a PC on a computer desk in the corner. "My computer is all fucked up. Can you take a look at it?"

......Vega exhaled. "No problem." The monitor was on.

......"This piece of shit runs like my grandmother. God have her in heaven."

......"Hold on," Vega said. The problem was obvious. "When's the last time you updated your virus protection?"

......"You're talking French to me now. Can you fix it?"

......Vega smiled, reached into his briefcase and took out an antivirus disk. "Sure thing."

* * * * *

......Vega left the pet emporium considering getting an order of scallion pancakes from the Great Wall. Then his cell phone chirped. It was Mildred. "Hey, baby, I got bad news," she said.

......"Digame."

......"They found Danny. Near the waterfront this morning. Somebody shot him. He's dead."

* * * * *

......Vega spent an hour at Aldo's Coffee Shop, lingering over a Spanish omelet, before he limped across Havermeyer Street to the Ortiz Funeral Home. Through the glass doors were tall ashtrays that might have doubled as urns and a colorful print of wilted tulips. The inside was as he remembered: dark wood paneling and thick, dark carpeting. Only the black and white leather couches seemed unfamiliar. The Cortez funeral was in the salon on the left. Vega walked in and straight up to the casket.

......The kid looked pale and plastic, the hair too black to be natural. Vega lingered over the casket for a while, then finally turned.

......There was Cookie, crying, and Lugo beside her. He looked at Vega as if they'd never met. They were surrounded by people. Vega waited for his turn, bowed his head slightly, said he was sorry. At first she didn't seem to recognize him either, but then her eyes turned sober and for a moment her face formed a sneer of accusation. Then it was gone. She dropped her gaze and was again surrounded by friends.

......Mildred, dressed in a tight black dress, came up to him. She whispered, "I'm so sorry I got you into this, E. This is so sad."

......"Don't worry, M. I'm still working on something," he said, touching her arm.

......"But he's not missing anymore!"

......"Something's not right about this," he said.

......"Oh baby, be careful."

......Vega smiled, a huge thing on his big face. He walked out into the main vestibule and then outside. Lissette Davila was in the parking lot, eating from a small bag of cookies.

......"Hey, Mr. Detective."

......She wore enormously baggy pants and a large red, white, and blue athletic shirt. Her hair flowed in dark waves down her shoulders. Her perfume was strong and sweet. "So I guess you didn't find Danny in time."

......"Yeah, I guess." He made to leave, but she followed him.

......"What--you feel bad? That's funny."

......"Why funny?"

......"You know--what was you going to do?"

......"What do you mean?"

......"You hungry?" she said. "I gotta get something to eat."

......"I'm always hungry," he said.

......They walked up Havermeyer, toward the elevated train. "Danny started hanging out with those strange people. He wanted to be like them, you know. You saw his hair? It was purple when they found him. Purple! Cookie made them change it back."

......"You don't like the artsies? Los bohemios?” Vega said.

......She laughed with a snort. "They're okay, but they kinda stick to themselves. It's like, for them, we're not even here, you know? They don't even see us. I don't know. They're weird. Danny wanted to be one of them for some reason."

......They walked back to a fast food place around the corner. Lissette told the cashier to give her a number four with a large shake. She looked at the wall when it came time to pay. The cashier looked at Vega. Vega looked at Lissette. She looked at the jukebox behind him. Vega frowned and paid for the food.

......When they sat down, he said, "So you don't seem too upset."

......"Upset. Shoot. Why should I get upset?" She opened up five packets of ketchup and squeezed them onto her french fries. "I knew Danny since we was little, but we wasn't going out or nothing, like I told you. He wasn't my boyfriend like everybody was thinking."

......"So you don't have a boyfriend?"

......She laughed and, for the first time, looked up from her food. "Why you ask, Mr. Detective?" she said, then put a ketchup-covered french fry in her mouth. She pull out the fry whole, glistening and free of ketchup. Vega blushed and then she laughed. It was a loud laugh.

......"Listen,” he said. “Everyone knows you've been hanging out with Jesus Lugo."

......A train rattled by. Its thunder could not overcome the blare of the radio and the four TV sets playing four different channels in the brightly lit room.

......"I don't know what you've heard."

......She was looking only at her food now. There seemed to be some moisture in her eyes."You want some french fries?" she said then sucked up half her milkshake. "You know, I like you, Mr. Detective. You big as a grizzly but you look like you gentle. You know what I mean?"

......"Thanks, I guess," said Vega, picking up a bushel of ketchup-soaked fries in his hand. He put them all in his mouth. Still chewing, he said, "Lissette, what about the missing money?"

......"What money?" Her voice went shrill. "There's no frickin' money. There was never any money."

......She opened her mouth and half her burger disappeared.

* * * * *

......Vega sat in Mildred's apartment, drinking. She sat on the floor in tight pink shorts that showed off her long, dark legs. The dog sat in her lap, studying Vega and the beer, his third that night, in his hand.

......"The police said he was just mugged," he said.

......"Well, if he was walking around with ten grand makes sense."

......"But the girl says there was no money."

......"When has this girl ever told you the truth? I know her type, E."

......"You are her type."

......"Kiss my ass."

......"I love you, too."

......Just then there was a scream, and then the sound of glass, a lot of glass, breaking.

......"Oh shit," Mildred said, jumping up with the dog in her hands. She opened the door. "Eulie. It's downstairs. Sounds like Jesus is having a fight with Cookie."

......Another scream. Another crash.

......Vega put his bottle down and pulled on his shoes.

......"Should I call the cops?" Mildred said, the dog squirming in her arms.

......Vega heard something large being smashed. "Yeah, I think so."

......As he ran down the stairs, he could hear Lugo screaming, "Coño, carajo, punyeta. Hija de la gran puta. Dammit!"

......The door was ajar. Vega pushed it the rest of the way open. Inside, in the living room, a glass table had been shattered. Plants were tipped over and there was soil spread on the floor. Cushions were thrown around, and there were fist-sized holes in the wall leaking plaster.

......"Cookie! Cookie Cortez!" Vega shouted.

......He checked the kitchen, then went into a small hallway. Through a door he could see Cookie's prone body lying face down. She wasn't moving.

......But just then he heard a yell and turned to see Jesus Lugo, his face dark red as a Chinese spare rib, coming at him with the clawed end of a hammer.

......Vega was a foot taller than Lugo, and it should have been easy to avoid him. But the stiffness in Vega's muscles made him slow. He avoided the first blow but with the second swing, the hammer found Vega's shoulder and bit deep. Pain exploded all over his left side. Vega jerked his wounded arm up, knocking the hammer out of Lugo's hand. It smacked on the floor, millimeters from his feet. Vega pushed Lugo roughly into the wall. A calendar and a crucifix crashed to the floor.

......Lugo let out a string of unintelligible Spanish curses. Vega cursed back. He was dizzy with pain. Mildred's miniature Doberman barked down around their ankles.

......Vega knew if he stepped on the dog, his cousin would kill him.

......Without a hammer in his hand, Lugo was moving back. Vega was taller and a subway car wider. He breathed deeply and waited.

......When the dog barked, Lugo lunged. Vega grabbed one of Lugo's wrists, then the other, shoving him back against the wall again. Lugo tried to knee him. Vega turned to the side to protect his crotch, then leaned his whole body against the thinner man, pinning him. Lugo's green eyes bulged more than ever.

......"Please don't kill him!" It was Cookie. Alive. And shrill. "Please--no killing. No killing in my house."

......Vega yelled, "Are you all right?"

......"Please don't kill him."

......"Cookie, I thought he hurt you."

......"No, no, no. I fainted. I fainted. I'm still alive!"
"I can see that." Vega looked around. "Hand me that extension cord, Cookie--please."

......Vega took the cord from her and wrapped it tightly three times around Lugo's hands and then around the older man's body, then knotted it. "Frickin' Boy Scouts," Vega said to himself. His rage dissipated, Lugo went quiet and slumped to the floor, defeated. The mini-Doberman immediately jumped on his lap but continued barking.

......Vega slumped onto a cushionless couch. His knees towered in the air. He pushed himself up and sat on the couch arm "Cookie, your Jesus was pretty angry about something. And it looks like he likes to get violent. I think he may have killed your son."

......"No, no!" She shook her head. "I know where Danny was. He was with that little fat bitch."

......"Christ," Vega said. He felt himself getting logy. He slumped into the cushionless couch again. "I think I'm going to need a bandage."

......A scream startled him. It was Mildred. "Ay! Eulogio are you okay?"

......She helped stop the bleeding and cleaned the wound, while Cookie made coffee. Lugo remained tied up on the floor, humming a song to himself.

......As Cookie brought him coffee, Vega said, "I need to know what got Jesus swinging at you."

......"He came home. Smelling like that little puta. I used to smell that smell in the hamper and I knew it wasn't me, so thought it came from some girl that Danny was with. And that Lissette girl was always around the block. But then I figured it out because the smell was still there after Danny moved out." She glared at Jesus. "Fucking liar! And I bet you took the money for yourself!"

......Lugo spoke up, his voice slurred. "No, Cookie, that was your son. He stole my money."

......"I hope so, then you don't get to spend it on your pregnant little girlfriend!"

......"Pregnant?" said Vega.

......"Lissette," said Cookie. "That's right."

......Mildred was saying "Oh my god" over and over again.

......"And she's gonna have more babies," said Cookie, "and she'll get fat like me and you won't love her no more either, you son of a bitch."

......"Jesus," Vega said. "Listen to me. Wake up! Where were you the night Danny was killed?"

Lugo mumbled something then drooled.

......Cookie said, "He was here with me. Though I got no reason to defend him."

......"So Danny did take the money?"

......"Si." She was sad when she said it. "We kept it in a little box and he took it."

......"Whose money was it?"

......"De nosotros. Jesus gets ten percent every time one of his customers hits. And then we hit the number a few times. It took us a long time to save up. We were gonna get a house."

......"Then why the hell did you lie to me?"

......"He was my son. I don't care about the money."

......"That was my money," Lugo slurred.

......"Shut up!" Cookie screamed, angry again. She went to slap Lugo once more, but Mildred stopped her. Cookie began sobbing. "Ay dios mio, somebody shot my baby for that stupid money!"

......Vega leaned over to comfort her, got his hand all the way over to her big shoulder, but then things got blurry and, not for the first time in his life, he blacked out.

* * * * *

......The cops came and asked questions and took Lugo away for more questions. Vega took a long ride to Woodhull Hospital with Mildred. Under anesthetic he imagined he had two automatic guns and a theme song. He was shooting at vampires, and they were going down like ducks in a carnival game. And Mildred was there, holding a huge stuffed Doberman that he won for her. He was going to ask her why she--why everybody was lying to him. But then he slipped into a black pool of unconsciousness.

......He was back at the office the next day. He was in his cubicle when he got a call that he had a visitor.

......Anya was waiting the reception room with a large covered frame.

......"I have to talk to you about Danny. And Lime," she said.

......"Sure, yeah, come to my--let's go to the conference room," he said.

......Before she sat down, she put the frame on the table, and then she slowly untied the covering. "Can you help me with this?"

......He went to hold the frame steady. Pain stabbed him in the shoulder. "Ow," he said loudly.

......"What happened to you?" she said.

......"J'ai alai."

......"Oh that's a great game."

......She pulled the covering off. It was a black and white portrait of Danny Cortez. He had a big, toothy smile, and there was a brightness in his eyes.

......"I knew Danny," she said. "I brought this for his parents. He was a nice kid. I hate what happened to him."

......"Yeah, he was in the wrong place, I guess."

......"I brought this, too," she said, pulling out the cigar box and the drawing book. "Listen, I don't think he was just mugged. I think I know what happened to him."

* * * * *

......Vega and Lester Reid sat in a car parked down the block from the Spore warehouse. On Vega's lap was the cigar box with Danny's tag on it.

......"So the money was legit?" Reid said.

......"Well, illegitimately legit. Or maybe the other way around. Numbers money that Jesus and Cookie saved up."

......"It would be too easy if the ten grand were still in here."

......"Too easy," Vega said. He opened the box. "But what we do have is stickers, rolling papers, a lighter, and poetry."

......"Poetry!"

......"Love poetry." Vega thumbed through them for the seventeenth time. "Written by Danny. But not to Lissette."

......"The girl who was doing the stepfather?"

......"Right. I thought the kid was with Lissette, and that's what made him angry enough to leave home and swipe the cash."

......"Aha."

......Vega watched the street with a pair of binoculars. "His mother was right when she said he left home because of a girl. But it wasn't the girl she was thinking of."

......"So he was doing the artist's girlfriend?"

......"Well, Anya, the artist's girlfriend, says no. She says it was sort of a mutual crush that neither of them acted on. He wanted to be an artist, too. And here was this beautiful artist working and living nearby. Teenagers have skipped home for less."

......"If he was killed, what's the motive?" Reid said.

......"That's what we're here to suss out, Mr. Reid."

......"And how do we get in, Mr. Vega?"

......Vega pulled out a set of keys that had a piece of masking tape on them. Written in magic marker on the tape was "The Spare."

......"A gift from Anya."

......They got out of the car and walked to the building.

* * * * *

......It was dim and chilly inside the warehouse, now stripped of light or sound. Orange opened the door with a large scratching noise. He entered pushing a shopping cart piled high with metal parts. As he moved inside, Reid walked behind him and shut the door.

......"What the fuck?" Orange said. He threw open the door. It took him a moment to focus. "Who the fuck are you?"

......"This is about Danny Cortez."

......"Are you a cop?"

......"You wish. You knew Danny Cortez?"

......"I want to see ID."

......"And I want to see the ten thousand dollars you took from Danny Cortez."

......"Ten thousand!"

......"That money belongs to a man named Antonio."

......"Who the fuck are you? I'm going to call the cops."

......Reid stood between Orange and the door. "Go ahead. But first, tell me about the Danny," he said.

......"I did him a favor. I let him crash here for a few days. I gave him food, that's all. He's gone now, okay?"

......"He stay here rent free?"

......"Well, I didn't know how long he was staying here. I told him he had to chip in."

......"Where was a kid going to get any money?"

......"That kid had money. I asked him for grocery money and he gave me a hundred dollar bill."

......"You must have thought there was more where that came from?"

......"What the fuck is this about?"

......"Must cost a lot of money to pay for this place. And for your little art show."

......"Fuck this," Orange said and shoved the cart toward Reid. Reid tried to move it aside, but it was heavy and hit him hard. Pipes fell off the top and brought him down. His shades flew off. Orange took another pipe and swung at Reid's face. It chipped the concrete floor instead.

......Orange ran toward the back of the warehouse. He was headed toward a back exit when Vega came out from behind the smiling tank and swung his arm across Orange's neck, bringing him down. Vega approached him, but Orange swung the pipe again, connecting with Vega's shin.

......Vega buckled, but got back up again.

......The artist swung, this time into Vega's bad shoulder. The pain was a red flare in Vega's eyes. He almost blacked out.

......"Why don't you fucking stay down, man?" Oranger said and swung again.

......Vega took the blow but kept moving, kept coming toward the artist. Another blow landed but he kept on. Another swing, and Vega ducked slightly, the blow glanced, and then he tackled Orange, picked him up over his shoulder, and threw him down on the ground. Orange landed with a hard smack.

......Reid was there. "You're a relentless son of a bitch, E."

......"Thanks," said Vega, out of breath. He kicked the man on the floor. "Hey . . . hey . . . . so you shot Danny Cortez . . . for ten grand?"

......"Not ten grand," Orange said, then his head lolled back and forth. He vomited a little then spoke. "I saw him with a wad of money one day, and I told him I needed some. The Spore costs so much to put together. I had to pay all this rent. And I saw this kid had money from somewhere. I needed it. And then I needed more, and he wouldn't give it to me."

......"So how much did you get out of him before you dumped his body on the street?"

......"Three grand. That's all. I swear."

......"Lookie here," Reid said, shades back on and pointing to the metal tank. On the side was soldered a .45 Smith and Wesson. "Where the girl said to find it. Couldn't help yourself, could you?"

......"My work is important. It's important," he said and threw up again.

......"I'll call the cops," Vega said.

* * * * *

......When Lissette stepped out of the car service at Kennedy, Vega had only been waiting 15 minutes. "Hola," he said.

......"Mr. Detective!" she said. "What are you doing here?"

......He limped over to her. "I wanted to talk one more time."

......"Did that artsy son of a bitch confess?"

......"Yes."

......"I hope the bastard burns in hell."

......With one arm, Vega helped her put her brand-new luggage onto the sidewalk. He winced.

......"You don't have to do that," she said but didn't stop him.

......"So tell me something," he said. "Why are you leaving town? Danny wasn't your boyfriend, so you can't be too upset."

......"I told you. We was still friends. Danny was smart. He wanted something else, you know. He didn't want me to be trapped here either."

......"What did he think about you and his stepfather?"

......She pursed her glossy lips. "He told me to be careful."

......"You know the guy who killed Danny said he only got a few thousand dollars from him. Where do you think the rest of the ten thousand is?"

......"Listen, I gotta catch a plane." Her eyes were watering.

......"To Florida. I know."

......She laughed. A tear ran down her cheek. "To a new life, know what I mean?"

......"And the baby?"

......Her face went blank. "There's no baby."

......"Qué novela," he said. "Well, you might be lying now or you lied to Danny. Either way you got the money for your ticket out. It belongs to Cookie, too, you know."

......"And Jesus."

......"So she gets to keep him and you keep the money."

......"Good luck to her. I gotta go."

......"Take care, Lissette."

......"You too, Mr. Detective."

......A porter led her inside the terminal. Vega hailed a cab and eased his big frame into the back seat. He gave the driver directions, closed his eyes, and thought of an afternoon of video games.