Page 77 of NYPD Red 7: The Murder Sorority

His eyes filled with hope. “You mean you could get me transferred outta here?”

“I’m told that Otisville is lovely this time of year,” Kylie said.

“Otisville?” he said. “Are you shitting me? My cousin Rios is there. Nobody fucks with Rios. Could you fix it so we’re cellies?”

“We know the warden personally. I can’t promise he’ll put you in the same cell, but I’m sure he can find you a nice safe place with a view of the laundry facility. Compared to this hellhole, it’ll be like the Riviera.”

“I’ll take it. I’ll take it. What do you want to know? I’ll tell you anything.”

“You put a 9mm slug into the clerk’s foot when you tried to hold up the bodega,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah. It was a 9mm Lorcin.Piece-of-shitgun. That’s why it went off in the bodega. I never even pulled the trigger.”

“Of course you didn’t,” I said. “Maybe you can sue the manufacturer while you’re appealing the verdict. Let’s get back to why we’re here. Thepiece-of-shitgun wasn’t on you when the cops picked you up a couple of hours after the robbery. Who’d you give it to?”

“Nobody. I tossed it.”

“Bullshit,” Kylie said. “You don’t strike me as the kind of person who throws away a gun, even if it was a piece of shit. You’d give it to a friend. Or you’d sell it.”

“Yeah,” X. L. said. “And then the guy you sell it to sticks up a liquor store, gets caught, tells the cops how he came by the gun, and I wind up getting charged with his crime. No thanks. How stupid do you think I am?”

Kylie ignored the question. “Okay. You tossed it,” she said. “Where?”

“As soon as I ran out of the bodega, I ran to the subway. I got on the six train—the local, going downtown. My heart’s pounding. I wait a couple of stops, and then I go between cars, and I chuck it into the tunnel about halfway betweenOne-SixteenthandOne-Twenty-Fifth. I figure that’s a pretty safe bet. No homeless guy who needs to take a shit is going to go back that far.”

“And that’s your story?” Kylie said. “You threw the gun onto the subway tracks.”

“Yeah. That’s what I done. Why would I lie to you? You guys are my only shot to get outta here.”

“No can do, X. L.,” Kylie said. “The deal was you have to help us find the gun.”

“So I told you where I tossed it. Just go and look. It’s probably still there.”

“It’s not there, X. L.,” I said. “We told you. Someone is using it to kill people.”

He smacked his head and laughed. “Oh, yeah. My brain’s a little scrambled. These guys in here are psychos. One of them beat the shit out of me. When I asked him why, he said, ‘because I can.’ That wouldn’t happen to me if I had Rios around.”

“You’re right,” I said. “It wouldn’t. And if you let us know how to find the gun, you’ll be on the first bus out of here to Otisville.” I called for the guard.

“No, wait. I’m telling you the truth. I swear on my mother’s life. I got rid of the gun in the subway tunnel. Please, you gotta help me get away from these animals.”

The guard dragged him off ranting, begging, crying. I had no sympathy. At his core, X. L. Gaston was alow-lifelong-termcriminal, and I doubted he’d be any different when he got out in ten years.

We called Steve Edlund from the car and gave him the bad news. The gun was a dead end.

“Do you believe him?” Edlund asked.

“He swore on his mother’s life.”

Edlund laughed. “If God actually took that shit seriously, there’d be a pile of dead moms all over the city. So then, I guess we’re back to square one.”

“Maybe not,” Kylie said. “Shane has had a few days to calm down after the shooting. He’s being released from the hospital tomorrow. He’ll be home; he’ll start cooking; he’ll start feeling like his old self again. Now that I’m allowed to work the case, I’ll see if I can get him to remember a few things that the trauma suppressed.”

“Go for it,” Edlund said.

“I’ll do my best,” Kylie responded. “At the very least, I’ll get a great dinner out of it.”

CHAPTER 52