‘I know you’re not Steve Carella.’
He looked at her.
‘And how do you know that?’ he said.
‘‘Cause I know the real Steve Carella,’ she said.
He kept looking at her.
‘I do,’ she said, and nodded. ‘I called the station house,’ she said. ‘I called the Eighty-seventh Precinct.’
‘Why’d you do that?’
“Cause you told me you worked there.’
‘You spoke to someone named Carella?’
‘Steve Carella, yes. In fact, I met him. Later.’
‘You met him,’ he said.
‘Yes.’
‘And?’
‘He told me you’re not him. As if I didn’t know. I mean, the minute I saw him I knew he wasn’t...’
‘What else did he tell you?’
‘He said you’re very dangerous,’ Naomi said, and giggled.
‘I am,’ he said.
‘Oh, I know,’ she said, and giggled again.
‘And what’d you tell him?’
‘Oh ... how we met... and what we did ... and like that.’
‘Did you tell him where we met?’
‘Oh, sure, the Corners,’ she said.
He was very silent.
‘What else did you tell him?’ he asked at last.
* * * *
A good way for a statistician to discover how many policemen are on duty in any sector of the city is to put a 10-13 call on the radio. Every cop in the vicinity will immediately respond. Sometimes even cops from other precincts will respond. That is because the 10-13 radio code means assist police officer, and there is no higher priority.
Carella and Brown were a block from Naomi’s apartment when the 10-13 erupted from the walkie-talkie on the seat between them. Neither of the men discussed or debated it. The cop in trouble was ten blocks from where they were, in the opposite direction from the one they were traveling. But Brown immediately swung the car around in a sharp U-turn, and Carella hit the siren switch.
* * * *
The Deaf Man sat up straight the moment he heard the siren. Like an animal sensing danger, Naomi thought. God, he is so beautiful. But the siren was moving away from her street, and as it faded into the distance, he seemed to relax.
‘What else did you tell him?’ he asked again.
‘Well ... nothing,’ she said.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Well ... I told him what you looked like and what you were wearing ... he was asking me questions, you see.’
‘Yes, I’m sure he was. How did he react to all this information?’
‘He seemed interested.’
‘Oh, yes, I’m sure.’
‘He told me to keep in touch.’
‘And have you kept in touch?’
‘Well...’
‘Have you?’
‘Look, don’t you think you should tell me who you really are?’ she said.
‘I want to know whether you and Steve Carella have kept in touch.’
‘He said you’re a dangerous criminal is what he actually said. Are you a criminal?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Tell me whether you’ve stayed in touch.’
‘What kind of criminal are you?’
‘A very good one.’
‘I mean ... like a burglar ... or a robber ... or ...’ She arched her eyebrows, the way her magazines had taught her. ‘A rapist?’
‘When did he tell you I was a criminal?’ he asked.
‘Well, when I saw him, I guess. At his house.’
‘Oh, you went to his house, did you?’
‘Well, yeah.’
‘When was that?’
‘On Thanksgiving Day.’
‘And that was when he told you I was a criminal?’
‘Yes. And again today. A dangerous criminal is what he...’
‘Today?’ the Deaf Man said. ‘You spoke to him today?’
‘Well, yes, I did.’
‘When?’
‘Right after you called.’
* * * *
Four patrol cars were already angled into the curb when Carella and Brown got to the scene. At least a dozen patrolmen with drawn guns were crouched behind the cover of the cars, and more patrolmen were approaching on foot, at a run, their guns magically appearing in their hands the moment they saw what the situation was. Again neither Carella nor Brown discussed anything. They immediately drew their guns and stepped out of the car.
A sergeant told them a cop was inside there. ‘Inside there’ was a doctor’s office. The cop and his partner had responded to a simple radioed 10-10—INVESTIGATE SUSPICIOUS PERSON—and had walked into the waiting room to find a man holding a .357 Magnum in his hand. The man opened fire immediately, missing both cops, but knocking a big chunk of plaster out of the waiting room wall and scaring the patients half to death. The point-cop had thrown himself flat on the floor. The backup-cop had managed to get out the door and radio the 10-13. The sergeant figured the man inside there was a junkie looking for dope. Doctors’ offices were prime targets for junkies. Carella asked the sergeant if he thought he needed them there. The sergeant said, ‘No, what I think I need here is the hostage team.’
Carella and Brown holstered their guns and went back to the car.
* * * *
The Deaf Man was putting on his clothes. Naomi watched him from the bed.
‘I didn’t tell him you were coming here, if that’s what’s bothering you,’ she said.
‘Nothing’s bothering me,’ he said.
But he was tucking the flaps of his shirt into his trousers. He sat again, put on his socks and shoes, and then went to the dresser for his cuff links. He put on the cuff links and then picked up the gun in its holster. He slipped into the harness and then came back to the chair for his jacket.
She kept watching him, afraid to say anything more. A man like this one, you could lose him if you said too much. Instead, she opened her legs a little wider, give him a better look at her, he was only human, wasn’t he? He went to the closet, took his coat from a hanger, and shrugged into it.
He walked back to the bed.
He smiled and reached under his coat, and under his jacket, and pulled the gun from its holster.
Naomi returned his smile and spread her legs a little wider.
‘Another game with the gun?’ she asked.
* * * *
It took Carella and Brown five minutes to clear the immediate area around the doctor’s office. The police had cordoned off the scene, so they had to slop at the barricade to identify themselves. It took them another ten minutes to get uptown to Naomi’s apartment.