Victims Read Online Free PDF Page A

she’d had some kind of confrontation here a few days ago.”
    Veronese rotated his earring. “I’m sure that had nothing to do with what happened to her.”
    “Why’s that, Mr. Veronese?”
    “Mr. Veronese was my grandfather, Ralph’s fine … yeah, Vita had a tough personality but I just can’t see anything that happened here being relevant.”
    “Tell us about the confrontation, Ralph.”
    He sighed. “There was no excuse for her behavior but I don’t even know the people’s names, it was the first time they were here!”
    “What happened?”
    “These people came in with their kid. Vita was already here, reading the Times that she always borrows from us and eating away.”
    “How many people?”
    “Mom, dad, the kid was little—four, five, I’m not good with ages.” Veronese tugged at a forelock, positioned it over his left eyebrow. “Bald. The kid. Skinny, these humongous eyes. Like you see on those ads for starving kids?” He tapped the crook of one arm. “Big bandage here. Like she got stuck with a shot, it was a she, a little girl.”
    I said, “Sounds like a sick little girl.”
    “Exactly, I figured cancer or something,” said Veronese. He sighed. “See something like that, makes you want to cry.”
    I said, “Vita didn’t cry.”
    “Oh, man.” His voice tightened. “I knew she was a pain in the ass but no way I figured something like that would happen. If I had, I’da seated them far from her. I seated them right next to her, make it easy for Hedy, you know?”
    “Vita wasn’t happy about that?”
    “At first she didn’t seem to notice them, she’s reading and eating, everything’s copacetic. Then the kid starts making noises. Not being annoying, like a moan, you know? Like she’s hurting, like something hurts. The parents are leaning over, whispering. Trying to comfort her, I guess. It goes on for a while. The moaning. Then the kid quiets down. Then she moans again and Vita puts down her paper, gives her the eye, you know?”
    “Angry.”
    “Angry with sharp eyes,” said Veronese. “What do they call it, dagger eyes? Like you can stab someone with them? My grandmother used to say that, ‘Don’t be shooting me those dagger eyes, you gonna draw my blood.’ Vita’s doing that, the dagger eyes. Right at the kid. The parents aren’t noticing, they’re concentrating on the kid. Finally,she quiets down again, Hedy takes their order, offers the kid a donut but the parents say the kid’s stomach can’t take it. Vita mutters something, the father looks over, Vita glares at him, goes back behind her paper. Then the kid starts moaning again, a little louder. The father walks to the counter and asks me for some ice cream. Like he’s figuring that might calm the kid down. I say you bet and fix a double scoop, he goes back, tries to feed the kid the ice cream, she tastes it but then she’s not having it. Starts crying again . All of a sudden, Vita’s out of her booth, like this.” He clamped a hand on each hip. “Looking down at them, like they’re evil. Then she says something, then the kid’s father is up on his feet, too, and they’re going at each other.”
    “Going how?”
    “Arguing, I couldn’t hear what, ’cause I had gone back to the kitchen, same for Hedy, so all we heard was some kind of commotion. I thought something had happened to the kid, a medical emergency. So I rush back and the father and Vita are in each other’s faces and he looks ready to—he’s really pissed off but his wife grabs his arm, holds him back. Vita says something that makes him pull his arm free, he raises a fist. Just holds it there. Shaking. All of him is shaking. Then he calms down, swoops up the kid, and they head for the door. Funny thing is, now the kid’s calm. Like nothing ever happened.”
    Another earring-tug. “I rush out, ask if there’s something I can do. I felt like shit, a sick kid, you know? It wasn’t her fault she didn’t feel good. Father looks at me,