Chapter Ten
Traffic Jam
"Aurora," Holmes started and abruptly stopped. I knew what he was driving at, but he was trying very hard not to exacerbate any raw feelings. He of all people knew what family problems were like. He never told me anything directly, but I'd picked up enough to know that the Holmes' family history was something of a soap opera.
"Go ahead and ask. I won't bite your head off."
"Skyler is your brother, recently escaped from prison and on a vendetta to find the money he believes is his due. From outward appearances you have a great deal in common." There was a question implied in this statement.
"So why the hissy fit?" That was a doozy. I'd thought this one over myself. We were currently stuck in traffic en route to Islington. Motorcycles darted in and out of the lanes around us, like smaller fish around a pod of whales. I wished I dared change the classical CD in the player for something that fit my mood, like Rammstein. But somehow I didn't think Holmes would react well to German industrial angst music. Might be good for a laugh though…
Concentrate girl, concentrate.
"He's my brother and I love him, but that doesn't mean I like him. Skyler and I used to be close when we were kids but we just sorta drifted apart in high school. At the end of four years I didn't even know him anymore. He was running with his gang buddies and I was cracking safes.
"There was a little unpleasantness with the police and I made New York 'too hot to hold me' as you would say. So I hopped a plane to London and fell in with Wes. A few years later Skyler shows up on my doorstep with Interpol hot on his heels.
"I agreed to let him join me in a solo gig. We were gonna split the money and he was going to head for the Caribbean. This rich lord had an apartment in the suburbs and we were going to crack the safe. He tripped the alarm on purpose. If I hadn't been paying attention I would have been caught by the police and Skyler would have taken all the proceeds. I told him to make himself scarce, or the police would be getting an anonymous tip as to his whereabouts." I took a deep breath and sighed. It was quite the little speech and Holmes sat back to absorb it.
"He is your brother and a fellow thief. You feel it would be wrong to betray him to your common foe but are reluctant to let him walk free."
"Skyler's got issues. I don't know why. Everyone else in the family is normal." Holmes coughed. I ignored him. "He's not any good at self-control, no discipline. If I let him walk he'll just wreak havoc until he gets caught again."
I didn't like the thought of him running loose in New York. There's this misperception that New York is a crime-ridden sink hole, but it really has some of the lowest per capita crime rates in the US. When you're a criminal it pays to know these things.
"The police have found him once. What makes you think they can't do it again?"
"Pfft. Harris might be able to do it. But I know all the mistakes I've done over the years, all the evidence I've left behind. They could build quite the tidy case against me if they could just get their act together."
"I shall forget I heard that." Holmes said wryly.
"Would you? Thanks." He'd been doing that sense of humor thing a lot more lately.
"You have made up- Dear Lord!" Holmes exclaimed as I spotted a parking place and swerved rather violently to wedge my Jeep into it.
"What?" Holmes appeared to be holding off a heart attack by force of will. "Parking's hard to get in this city, you gotta get while the getting's good."
Holmes attempted a retort, but I missed most of it because I had gotten out of the car.
"What is this place?" We were parked outside of a rather nondescript restaurant. There were a dozen tables out on the sidewalk, and the green awning above the door read "Fratelli's."
"This place," I replied, "is famous. This is Fratelli's Pizza."