At Block C, they underwent a cursory search before walking through the peeling, tan-painted steel gate. Turning a corner in the cellblock, the three of them halted at the sight of the hulking giant nearly filling the entire corridor from one dull green wall to the other. His back was to them.
Bagabond uttered a small miaow of alarm, and both Rosemary and Paul looked at her.
"The things I do for this city." Rosemary started forward. "Rosemary Muldoon, district attorney's office. What's happening here?"
The giant maneuvered to face her. Two men standing beyond him started to speak too.
"My client-"
"This gentleman- I want out!"
"Hold on!" Rosemary cut them all of "FitzGerald, talk to me," she said to the uniformed officer. "You other two, hold that thought and stay right where you are."
The lawyer in the light gray Armani suit spoke loudly enough for Rosemary and the others to hear as she passed, "NYU, I'd venture to guess." There was no mistaking the tone.
Rosemary pulled the six-foot Puerto Rican officer down the hall.
Bagabond glanced at Paul and nodded toward Bludgeon. "Keep an eye on him."
"Great." Paul smiled at the lawyer and the towering man beside him. He stuck out his hand. "Paul Goldberg, DA's office. How's it going?"
Bagabond followed Rosemary.
"Just what is going on?" the assistant DA said to FitzGerald. "Who's the snappy dresser?"
"He says he's from Latham, Strauss." The officer looked abashed at Rosemary's expression of disgust and disbelief. "Not bad for an oversized punk." She nodded. "What exactly happened'?"
"This Bludgeon just popped in. Had to be Popinjay-Jay Ackroyd."
"I've heard the name." Rosemary shrugged. "This city doesn't need any more vigilante do-gooders."
"Well, he's done it before, no problem. He comes in and files charges later. But this time, he never showed. I read Bludgeon his rights and let him make his phone call."
FitzGerald gestured at the dapper man examining the gold clasp of his briefcase. "Then twenty minutes ago, that guy shows up."
"Wonderful." Hand over her mouth, Rosemary stared at the ceiling as if waiting for inspiration.
The lawyer came up to them. "Excuse me, but my client would like to leave now" The shade of his Armani was the precise gray of his hair. He had an unctuous smile.
"Well, Mr…"
"Tulley, ma'am. Simon Tulley."
"Mr. Tulley. There are a number of serious charges against your client." Rosemary shook her head in concern.
"Oh?" said Tulley. "I was not aware that there were any charges against him."
" I don't think it would be in the public interest to release Mr. Bludgeon without thoroughly investigating this matter." Bagabond nodded in agreement.
Tulley frowned past Rosemary at Bagabond. "And who is this other lovely lady'?"
"An associate. Ms. Melotti." Rosemary looked at Bagabond and then quickly back at Tulley. Bludgeon's lawyer extended his hand. Bagabond stared down at it as if inspecting a piece of rotting meat.
"Charmed, I'm sure." Tulley took a breath and shifted his attention back to Rosemary. "I don't want to bring up false arrest as a potential problem, Ms. Muldoon, but you should seriously evaluate your position."
"Mr. Tulley, as you so astutely have pointed out, your client has not been officially arrested yet."
"False imprisonment, then. I am beginning to lose my patience." Tulley looked down his long, aristocratic nose at Rosemary. "Where are the charge sheets?"
"The paperwork is undoubtedly a little slow today-the holiday and all. I've just had a little problem with that myself." Rosemary shifted her hands and smiled innocently at Tulley. "I do have to consider the community's welfare."
"And I am here to protect my client's. We are leaving now" Tulley showed his teeth and pranced back toward Bludgeon.
"Tulley-" Rosemary started toward them.
"Show me a witness. Show me a witness's statement. No? Then he's mine or I'll file against the city." Tulley possessively grasped Bludgeon's arm. The giant grinned at Rosemary and Bagabond.
"'Bye, now," he said to them in a high-pitched voice illsuited to his size. "I'll see you again. Real soon, I hope." Bludgeon watched for the women's response. When he failed to get one, he glared and preceded Tulley to the gate. FitzGerald flattened himself against the wall as they passed.
Rosemary looked at Paul and laughed bitterly. "Say to yourself, 'I love the Bill of Rights' three times." She lifted her right hand and massaged her temples. "You two go ahead. I want to ask FitzGerald a couple things. I'll meet you out front."
Bagabond and Paul were silent in the elevator. Paul looked depressed. Walking out into the sunlight was like coming up from deep water into the air. The lawyer sat down on one of the worn marble steps.
"I worked in corporate law for years-mergers, takeovers, leveraged buyouts, the whole routine. Then I decided I wanted to make a difference, to contribute. Payback, you know? So I got a job here." He rapped the stone with his knuckles. "Some difference, huh? We're trapped by our own strengths."
"I realized that a long time ago." Bagabond shrugged and watched the yellow torrent of passing cabs. Idly, she shifted a portion of her consciousness into the pigeons sitting on the roof of the Tombs and looked out across the crowds.
"But you've just got to give something back. There's a responsibility." Paul looked up at the woman staring blindly into the sky.
Bagabond started. "You're the second person today to say that to me." A pigeon swooped down almost to her shoulder, but she guided it away before it could land. "Maybe you're right."
Paul hesitated, then said, "I realize this is abrupt, but I have to say something."
The woman focused her attention on him.
"You're the most intriguing person I've met in this city…"
"Rosemary will be thrilled," Bagabond said.
"Rose-Ms. Muldoon is my boss. Besides, she isn't my type. A bit too conventional." Paul stood up and faced her. "I'm not conventional?" Bagabond was amused, wondering how "different" he thought she was.
"No offense, please. I was wondering if we could have dinner sometime." The attorney watched people scale the steps behind her left shoulder. "Sorry. You make me very nervous."
"Thanks, but I work most nights." Bagabond was confused. A part of her actually wanted to do this.
"Okay, then. What about breakfast?"
"Breakfast?"
"Sure. I run six miles really early, about five. Then I go home and get ready for work. If I feel like it, I go get a big breakfast before coming in. It ruins the roadwork, but tastes great." He smiled at her and cocked his head a little to one side. "Join me one day-just for the breakfast?"
"All right." Bagabond nodded and then hesitantly smiled. For the first time, the smile was reflected in her eyes as well. "Yes, I might like that."
"How about tomorrow?"
She stared at him, once again without expression. "Don't tell me you have another date," Paul said. "What time?"
"Seven. I can pick you up-"
"I'll meet you. Where?" Bagabond concentrated on suppressing the thought that she was making a big mistake. "The market, at Greenwich and Seventh."
"You two look deep in thought." Rosemary strode down the steps. "I know that Popinjay was trying to help, but there are times I wish aces wouldn't get involved. It would make my life simpler. Yours too, Paul." She shook her head ruefully. "Paul, go on back to the office. Work with Chavez. Suzanne and I have some business to take care of."