Hail to the Chief

But that was before Midge made her second dumb move, and changed the picture entirely.

Chapter Five

The police in the bordering state found the body of the dead girl in a clump of woods outside the little town of Turman. Her throat had been slit from ear to ear, and her back was welted with what appeared to be marks left by a lash or a strap. An alert detective, recalling an all-points bulletin from across the river, noticed that the girl was wearing a wrist locket with the name MIDGE engraved on it. He checked his memory back at the office, and put in a call to the 87th Squad.

The River Harb was icebound almost shore-to-shore when Carella and Kling drove across the Hamilton Bridge early that Friday morning, January 11. Kling was driving. Carella was on the seat beside him, trying to adjust the heater in the ancient car. The automobile, one of the three assigned to the squad, had seen far better days. Either of the detectives would have preferred driving his own car, except that putting in chits for gasoline expenditures had become a big departmental hassle in recent weeks, and it was simpler to drive one of the assigned Police Department vehicles, which came equipped with a full tank of gas in the morning.

'I think I figured it out,' Kling said.

'The whole case, or what?' Carella asked,

'What he meant.'

'Who?'

'Pacho. When he took us up the stairs, and this other kid challenged him. Remember? True Blue, the other kid.'

'Yes, I remember.'

'He asked Pacho for the password, remember? And Pacho said, "The nutter is our dame." It's been bothering me, but I think I finally doped it out.'

'Yeah?' Carella said.

'Yeah. They've got gargoyles painted on the backs of those white coats, am I right?'

'Uh-huh.'

'Okay, so where do you find gargoyles?'

'On buildings.'

'What kind of buildings?'

'All kinds of buildings.'

'Steve, which building in the whole world is the most famous for its gargoyles?'

'I have no idea.'

'Come on, you know the building.'

'I do not know the building.'

'Notre Dame,' Kling said. Proud of his deductive feat, grinning, he turned his eyes momentarily to Carella. 'You get it?' he said.

'No,' Carella said.

'The nutter is our dame,' Kling said, looking again at the road ahead. 'The notre is our dame. You get it now?'

'That's ridiculous,' Carella said.

'I'll bet it's what he meant.'

'Okay, fine.'

'Anyway, it was bothering me, and it's not any more.'

'Good. What's wrong with this heater, would you happen to know that?'

'No. Something else has been bothering me, too, Steve.'

'What? I know, don't tell me. You've been trying to learn how to balance a knife on the tip of its blade.'

'No. It's Augusta. I'm thinking of asking her to marry me.'

'Yeah?' Carella said, surprised.

'Yeah,' Kling said, and nodded.

He was referring to Augusta Blair, a red-headed photographer's model he had met nine months ago while investigating a burglary. Carella knew better than to make some wise-ass remark when Kling was apparently so serious. The squadroom banter about the frequent calls from 'Gussie' (as Kling's colleagues called her) had achieved almost monumental proportions in the past two months, but they hardly seemed appropriate in the one-to-one intimacy of an automobile whose windows, except for the windshield, were entirely covered with rime. Carella busied himself with the heater.

'What do you think?' Kling asked.

'Well, I don't know. Do you think she'll say yes?'

'Oh, yeah, I think she'll say yes.'

'Well then, ask her.'

'Well,' Kling said, and fell silent.

They had come through the tollbooth. Behind them, Isola thrust its jagged peaks and minarets into a leaden sky. Ahead, the terrain consisted of rolling smoke-colored hills through which the road to Turman snaked its lazy way.

'The thing is,' Kling said at last, 'I'm a little scared.'

'Of what?' Carella asked.

'Of getting married. I mean, it's… well… it's a very serious commitment, you know.'

'Yes, I know,' Carella said. He could not quite understand Kling's hesitancy. If he really wanted to marry Gussie, why the doubts? And if there were doubts, then did he really want to marry her?

'What's it like?' Kling asked,

'What's what like?'

'Being married.'

'I can only tell you what it's like being married to Teddy,' Carella said.

'Yeah, what's it like?'

'It's wonderful.'

'Mmm,' Kling said. 'Because, suppose you get married and then you find out it isn't the same as when you weren't married?'

'What isn't the same?'

'Everything.'

'Like what?'

'Like, well, for example, suppose, well, that, well, the sex isn't the same?'

'Why should it be any different?'

'I don't know,' Kling said, and shrugged.

'What's the marriage certificate got to do with it?'

'I don't know,' Kling said, and shrugged again. 'Is it the same? The sex?'

'Sure,' Carella said.

'I don't mean to get personal…'

'No, no.'

'But it's the same, huh?'

'Sure, it's the same.'

'And the rest? I mean, you know, do you still have fun?'

'Fun?'

'Yeah.'

'Sure, we have fun.'

'Like before?'

'Better than before.'

'Because we have a lot of fun together,' Kling said. 'Augusta and I. A lot of fun.'

'That's good,' Carella said.

'Yes, it's very good. That two people can enjoy things together. I think that's very good, Steve, don't you?'

'Yes, I think it's very good when that happens between two people.'

'Not that we don't have fights,' Kling said.

'Well, everybody has fights. Any two people…'

'Yes, but not too many.'

'No, no.'

'And our… our personal relationship is very good. We're very good together.'

'Mmm.'

'The sex I mean,' Kling said quickly, and suddenly seemed very intent on the road ahead. 'That's very good between us.'

'Mmm, well, good. That's good.'

'Though not always. I mean, sometimes it's not as good as other times.'

'Yes, well, that's natural,' Carella said.

'But most of the time…'

'Yes, sure.'

'Most of the time, we really do enjoy it.'

'Sure,' Carella said.

'And we love each other. That's important.'

'That's the single most important thing,' Carella said.

'Yes, I think so.'

'No question.'

'It is the single most important thing,' Kling said. 'It's what makes everything else seem right. The decisions we make together, the things we do together, even the fights we have together. It's the fact that we love each other… well… that's what makes it work, you see.'

'Yes,' Carella said.

'So you think I should marry her?'

'It sounds like you're married already,' Carella said.

Kling turned abruptly from the wheel to see whether or not Carella was smiling. Carella was not. He was hunched on the seat with his feet propped up against the clattering heater, and his hands tucked under his arms, and his chin ducked into the upturned collar of his coat.

'I suppose it is sort of like being married,' Kling said, turning his attention to the road again. 'But not exactly.'

'Well, how's it any different?' Carella said.

'Well, I don't know. That's what I'm asking you.'

'Well, I don't see any difference.'

'Then why should we get married?' Kling asked.

'Jesus, Bert, I don't know,' Carella said. 'If you want to get married, get married. If you don't, then stay the way you are.'