The librarian was a plain young woman who eyed Hacker with appreciation.
“Of course I know who you mean. Reese Baldwin. He’s a student at the university, worked here part time. Shelved books, helped out wherever we needed him. Reese was really good with the older people. And he did take books to Mrs. Miner sometimes. We’re not supposed to do that, you know, but she was such a regular patron I knew I didn’t have to worry about her returning them.”
“You’re talking about him in the past tense,” Skovich said. “Isn’t he here?”
“As a matter of fact, he quit this week. Said it was too much for him on top of his study load. We’ll miss him; he was a big help.”
“I wonder if we could have his address,” Hacker suggested.
“Is Reese in trouble?”
“We just want to talk to him, ma’am,” he assured her with a smile.
“Please,” she protested, coloring. “I’m not old enough to be called ma’am.”
Armed with the address, they sped for their car, Hacker still wearing his smile.
“You can wipe that off now,” Skovich informed him darkly. “Doesn’t do a damn thing for me.”
No one was home at Baldwin’s apartment. They left a note requesting him to call and went back to the station. Once satisfied that Baldwin had no prior record, Skovich pulled the strings necessary to get a copy of his driver’s license photo and Hacker contacted the university. Reese Baldwin was a registered undergraduate but, according to his class schedule, he was probably not on campus that afternoon.
“What’s your gut saying?” Hacker inquired while they waited for the license photo to come through.
“Saying it’s a good possible. He walked the dog with her. Knew her routine, when she’d be out of the apartment.”
“Yeah. I think we just struck gold. Hope so. Sure would like to get my hands on him.”
“Easy now.”
“I’m a big boy, Hank. I know the rules.”
Late afternoon and Baldwin had not called. The picture came through and they headed for the park bench. Before they could get to the business at hand, however, they had to admire Marsh’s new teeth. Then the old men huddled over Reese Baldwin’s photo and immediately agreed that he was the man they’d seen walking with Lorena Miner.
“Got a face like a cherub,” Sid snarled. “Wouldn’t mind getting a piece of him myself.”
“We helped then, didn’t we?” P.T. was elated. “We’re good snitches?”
Skovich was beginning to feel the adrenalin flow. It made him expansive. “Too early to tell yet, but if this turns out we’ll see that you four get some kind of departmental recognition for it.”
The old men shouldered one another like a gang of boys. “So what do you do now?” Sid’s hot eyes were steaming. “You going after him?”
“We’ll take it from here,” Skovich advised them. “Thanks for all you’ve done. You’ll be hearing from us, okay?”
They parked across the street and a half block away from Reese Baldwin’s apartment. The sky was fast losing light. Skovich was hungry, and they were discussing which one would go for a quick food run when Hacker said, “Look. Someone’s coming out of his building.”
He was walking away from them, shoulders hunched, hands in pockets. “That’s him,” Skovich said. “Let’s go.”
They were across the street and still some lengths behind him when a small group of people rounded the corner beyond Baldwin and started towards him.
Hacker groaned. “God, it’s P.T. and the gang.”
“What?” Skovich said. “How did they find—”
Just then Marsh raised his arm and waved. Baldwin slowed, looked behind him, and saw the detectives. Skovich and Hacker broke into a trot.
“Reese Baldwin?” Skovich called. “Police! Stay where you are. We want to talk to you.”
Baldwin seemed confused. He looked at them, then at P.T. and his friends fast advancing. He fell into a half-crouch.
“Stay away from me!” he shouted.
Hacker said, “We’ll have to take him.”
Before the words were completely out of his mouth, Baldwin broke for the nearest alley. P.T. and his men, who were closer, stepped up their pursuit. Everyone converged at the opening, and suddenly John lunged from P.T.’s pack and flung himself into Baldwin. Both men went down. But John stayed down, while Baldwin struggled to his feet and disappeared into the darkening alley. Hacker sprinted after him. Skovich lingered long enough to see that John was trying to sit up, blood oozing from his forehead where he had hit the cement.
“You all right?” Skovich barked.
John grinned a woozy grin. “That felt good,” he said.
“Stay here! All of you, stay here!” Skovich ordered and sped off after his partner. Immediately there were footsteps behind him. “I said, stay there!” he shouted over his shoulder, but the footsteps continued and there was no time to stop and enforce his order. Baldwin was getting away. Cursing hotly, he hissed ahead to Hacker, “Don’t shoot, Terry, don’t shoot. There’s old guys all over the place.”
“I don’t think I’ll have to,” Hacker hissed back. “He must not be armed or he’d have fired by now. Can you see him?”
The alley dead-ended into a parking area. It was half full of cars and Baldwin was crouched, zigzagging between them, headed for the high chain-link fence enclosing it. “Police!” Skovich shouted again. “Stay where you are, Baldwin. Don’t make us shoot.”
He saw a blur of movement, and Baldwin wailed, “Leave me alone! I didn’t mean to do it, it was an accident! She came home too soon, you understand? I didn’t mean to!”
They lost sight of him momentarily, then he burst from the farthest row of cars and hurled himself at the fence. The detectives plunged after him and they were on the fence together, heaving up by sheer willpower, clawing desperately for grip. Hacker caught hold of a pant leg and got kicked in the face. He slipped, clutching at Skovich for purchase. The detectives hung together for scant seconds, steadying themselves, while Baldwin continued to haul his way up the fence. They were at least eight feet off the ground, the old men below them, cheering them on.
“I didn’t mean to,” Baldwin was whimpering softly. “Give me a break, okay? It wasn’t my fault!”
He was close to the top of the fence, but he was tiring, and he was crying now, great snuffling sobs. His foot slipped and he clung for a moment only by his hands. They were on him then, one close on each side, arms locked across his back, pinning him to the fence. And Baldwin gave up. He sagged, letting the fence go, allowing his full weight to bear on them and their own precarious hold on the fence.
“Hang on, damn you!” Hacker grunted, and Skovich managed, “Don’t drop him, Terry!”
“We heard him say he did it,” P.T.’s voice floated up from below. “We heard the whole thing. We’re witnesses!”
“Get out of the way down there!” Skovich bawled down as the combined weight of the men on the fence began to droop toward gravity. “Terry? You hear me? Don’t drop him!”
They went down together, sprawling onto the concrete with a resounding thud. Hacker was up instantly, rolling Baldwin onto his face in the dirt and cuffing his hands behind him.
“You’re under arrest!” he announced as the old men crowded around to watch.
Baldwin was still sobbing. “You don’t understand. I needed the money. You don’t know how hard it is to get an education these days. I never meant to hurt her.”