The door opened on a chain.
"Sergeant Woo. I hope I'm not interrupting dinner," April said.
"Can I see your ID?"
April held her gold up to the opening.
"Sorry, we're a little paranoid these days." The girl who opened the door was short, not more than five-one, more cute than classically beautiful. She had chin-length almost-black hair, almond-shaped eyes a little like April's, and a nice apologetic smile.
April followed her into a small living room, where the girl suddenly broke into excited chatter.
"Jack, this is April Woo."
"What?" With a stunned expression, April's rescuer lumbered awkwardly to his feet from his place on a sofa in front of a TV. He was a regular-looking white guy, one of thousands of ordinary young people in the downtown crowd. Just under six feet tall, skinny, sand-colored hair, surprised blue eyes.
"Hi," April said a little uncertainly. "I'm sorry to bother you at dinnertime. I just came by to say thanks."
A chocolate lab with a mouthful of scary-looking teeth closed the space between them to sniff and lick her while its fat tail lashed out at everything within reach. April made a point of patting its huge head only because she thought it would be impolite not to.
"You didn't have to do that." Jack took his time studying her, as if trying to match her with the barefoot girl in a party dress who'd stopped breathing in Washington Square two nights ago.
"Well, you saved my life. People don't do that every day." April stood there trying to smile, feeling like a jerk. She'd never had to thank someone for saving her life before. Well, only Mike. Now she thought she should have brought a gift. A big gift. Jack Devereaux didn't help her out. It was an awkward meeting.
"You look pretty messed up. How are you feeling?" she asked finally.
"Not too bad. I've never broken a bone before. This is my girlfriend, Lisa. This is Sheba." He introduced his dog. April concentrated on the girl.
"Pleasure to meet you. It smells like you're a great cook."
"Well, it sounds like you need what I made." Lisa laughed, happy under the praise. "Bronchitis?" she queried about the voice.
"Ah, it's on the mend." April downplayed the problem.
"Please sit down." Lisa patted the sofa, where a blanket bristled with itchy-looking dog hairs.
April avoided it by sitting in a nearby armchair that was too small for the beast.
"Would you like some Jewish penicillin?" Lisa offered.
"No, thanks. It's not an infection."
"Well, it's not real penicillin; it's just the soup. Very good for the chest, you know, the sinuses, the throat, and the fingernails. Practically everything. I know it's going to fix Jack's arm."
"Really?" April smiled. Another doctor.
"Absolutely. Would you like some?"
April hesitated, computing the time since she'd eaten Skinny Dragon's jook. Six and a half hours with only tea since then. Her voice felt and sounded horrible. She could use the soup.
"It would help, really. We were just going to have some, weren't we, Jack?" Lisa was pushing the soup hard.
"Oh. Yes, we definitely were." Jack flinched as the dog jumped up on the sofa and dropped its heavy head and shoulders into his lap, then added, "Don't worry; we have a lot," as Lisa disappeared to get it.
He rolled his eyes and changed the subject. "You don't look like a cop."
April heard this every day. She always wondered if people meant Chinese couldn't be cops, or women couldn't be cops, or just-how could she be a cop if she wasn't wearing a uniform? She always chose the last answer. "Detectives don't wear uniforms. I was hoping that you could fill me in on what happened that night."
"They've already asked me," Jack said vaguely.
April studied him. He was hardly huge-a young man not filled in yet, but he was taller than Bernardino. Definitely taller than she was.
"I'm sure they did, and I'm sure they will again. Sometimes new things come out. Right now I'm asking for me," she added.
"I was wondering how you lost your shoes," he said suddenly.
April didn't like the question. She'd taken off her shoes not only to run after the killer, but also to fight him. Really nuts.
"Let's do you first," she said. "What time did you go out with the dog?"
"No one asked me about Sheba. I always take her out at eleven. We walk over to Washington Square and walk around the square a few times. She's a big girl. She needs her exercise." He patted the beast fondly.
April remembered hearing the sound of a chain leash when she exited the restaurant. She didn't think it was this dog but wanted to be sure. "What kind of leash do you use?"
Jack nodded at a doorknob across the room, which had a chain leash hanging on it. "She'd eat any other kind. Why do you ask?"
"The dining table is in use." Lisa returned with a large bowl of something that looked more like stew than soup. She put a spoon and paper napkin on the coffee table in front of April.
"Thanks, it looks great." April returned to her subject. "What route do you take?"
Jack looked surprised. "What route? We go downstairs and head straight to the square. We turn left and walk counterclockwise, north first, then east, then south."
"You did that Wednesday?"
"I always do it. I'm a creature of habit."
"You didn't walk down Thompson on Wednesday?"
"No, why do you ask?"
"Just trying to place everything. Did you see anything unusual?"
"Well, now that Giuliani is gone, the drug dealers are out again everywhere. Anything you want, and people are smoking right out in public."
April didn't tell him that the new mayor wasn't responsible for drugs being back on the streets. Priorities had changed after 9/11. Guarding against terrorists was number one now. She dipped her spoon in the soup and tasted it. Thicker than Chinese chicken soup, this version had rice and very thin spaghetti strings in it, carrot coins, celery chunks, chicken meat, and not even a hint of ginger.
Lisa sat down. "How do you like it?"
"It's really great," April told her. "Do you ever walk with anyone else?"
"I walk with him if I'm still awake," Lisa piped up.
"I mean other dog walkers."
"Oh, yeah. I know what you mean. Some people cruise with their dogs. They know each other and everything. I'm not part of that scene."
"You don't talk to anyone?"
"Just to say hello. The dogs know each other. I know some of the dog names, not the people."
April nodded. She didn't know the dog owners on their block because they always put Dim Sum out in the backyard. But Jack knew the local dogs. That was something. She took a moment to eat her soup and think about it.
"Do you know anybody with a mastiff?" she asked.
He rolled his eyes and didn't answer. "Who was the guy who died?" He couldn't balance the bowl with one hand but shook his head when Lisa tried to help him.
"He was a retired lieutenant from the Fifth Precinct. That's in Chinatown. My old boss," she added.
"Jesus. That's too bad… The story is all over the TV."
"And you're pretty famous yourself," she said.
Jack shook his head. "The whole thing is weird."
April was curious, but she didn't want to embarrass him by asking about his father. "New Yorkers are supposed to run away from trouble," she said instead.
"Oh, that. Well, I didn't realize you were in trouble at first. I didn't see it. The fog was something. Why didn't you yell?"
Good question. The answer was, she didn't yell because she was fighting. You don't yell when you're fighting, only when you're losing. Then when you're yoked, you can't yell. She burned with shame. No wonder Chief Avise was angry at her. She would fire any cop who'd done the stupid things she'd done.
"Do you know anything about martial arts?" she asked.