Page 72 of The 6:20 Man

CHAPTER

33

“DEVINE, RIGHT?” SAID COWL.

He had on jeans, a black shirt open enough to reveal dark, curly chest hair, and loafers. His hair wasn’t slicked back, like he wore it at the office. He was less Gordon Gekko and more tousled-hair man-child, but with something definite and important on his mind.

“I’m Travis Devine.”

“Come with me.”

He headed off and Devine followed. He glanced around and saw Michelle Montgomery staring at them. She raised her Cosmo and added a supportive look.

Devine thought they would head to a private room. Instead, Cowl led him outside, to the pool area. There wasn’t anyone else around, so it was private, and maybe prearranged. Devine spotted a beefy security guard hovering at the rear door, probably to make sure no one else came out here. The lights were lit, and fancy tiki torches kept the bugs away, though crickets sounded off all around them and the smell of freshly mown grass dominated. Cowl sat at a table next to the pool and motioned for Devine to sit across from him. Devine did and put his beer down.

Cowl didn’t look at him. He stared at the pool and then the wall beyond it.

Devine followed his gaze and saw the outbound train slowly passing by. The lights were on in the train, and through the gap he was used to looking at from the other side he could see a collection of weary New Yorkers. Their heads were bent and shoulders slumped, some half dozing, as they returned from battle to catch some sleep and get up the next morning to do it all over again.

“Poor assholes,” said Cowl.

“Why’s that?”

“Schlepping on a train in and out every day like mice on a tread-mill. But on the other hand, I need them to do exactly that to keep my dream going. But I’m not a total dick, despite what some say about me. I was born into money, and then by the time I could count, it was all gone, because my father and grandfather were morons. So I know what it’s like to have zip. I could have grown up a legacy kid, gotten into all the Ivy Leagues I needed through those connections. And then I could have become an entitled prick all nice and polite and holding my fork and cup just so, while I stab you in the back. Instead, I’m a street fighter who chooses to stab you in the front, which you have to admit is a lot fairer.” He eyed Devine, as though to make sure he was listening, really listening, to all this. “So, I know what it’s like to ride that train, but it’s partly a gravy train. They’re not doing it for free, and the lowest paid on there who work in my world make a shitload more money than most folks.”

“Okay. I get that.” Now Devine wondered if Cowl had allowed the gap to be there so those poor suckers on the train could see how opulently he lived. He was just that kind of a jerk.

“You live somewhere around here, right?” asked Cowl.

“But not this neighborhood. Out of my price range. I share a town house with three other people.”

“Uh-huh.” He drummed his fingers on the teak tabletop. “You knew Sara Ewes, I understand.”

“I did.” He hesitated, mulling over how best to play this. He decided to slide a stack of chips forward on the pass line and roll the dice. “Did you know her?”

Cowl knifed him with a glare. “I’m asking the questions, Devine, not you.”

Devine took a breath and rolled his neck from one side to the other, letting the tension ease.

“You want to throw a punch, throw it,” said Cowl, who was watching him closely. “Then I bury you under legal bills and you go to jail for assault.” He paused and made his own play. “And maybe for more than that.”

Devine didn’t take the bait. He reverted back to his military training. When in doubt, say nothing. When not in doubt, double down on that advice.

The train moved on with its beaten-down riders, and still Cowl did not speak. He was now staring at the dark pool waters so intently, Devine wanted to check to see if there was a body floating in there.

“I’m trying to come up with the best way of handling this, Devine.”

“Handling what?”

“The cops are interested in you; I hope you’re smart enough to know that. Otherwise, you have no business working for me.”

“They’ve talked to me. They know certain things. They’ve talked to other people. They have no proof I had anything to do with Sara’s death, because I didn’t.”

“Except for one thing, and it’s a big one.”

Devine knew exactly what that one thing was. The entry log, showing him in the building and on the fifty-second floor in the time window necessary to kill Ewes. “Then why haven’t they arrested me?”

“You can thank me for that” was Cowl’s surprising reply.