The owner of the hockshop looked up as they approached his cage.
'Yes, sir, gentlemen,' he said, 'what can I do for you, sirs?'
'We're from the police,' Carella said. He plunked the binoculars down on the countertop. 'Recognize these?'
The hockshop owner examined them. 'A beautiful pair of glasses,' he said. 'Pieter-Vondiger. Have they figured in a crime, perhaps?'
'They have.'
'Was the perpetrator carrying them?'
'He was.'
'Mmmm,' the owner said.
'Recognize them?'
'We sell a lot of field glasses. That is, when we have them to sell.'
'Did you have these to sell?'
'I don't think so. The last Pieter-Vondigers I had was in January. These are 8 X 30. The pair I had were 6 X 30. These are better glasses.'
'Then, you didn't sell these glasses?'
'No, sirs, I didn't. Are they stolen?'
'Not according to our lists.'
'I'm sorry I can't help you, sirs.'
'That's all right,' Carella said. 'Thanks.'
They walked out onto the blistering sidewalk again.
'How many other cops are on this?' Meyer asked.
'Pete asked for a pair from each precinct. Maybe they'll come up with something.'
'I'm getting tired. Do you suppose that damn letter is a phony?'
'I don't know. If it is, we ought to lock the bastard up, anyway.'
'Hear, hear,' Meyer said, in a burst of enthusiasm rare for the heat.
'Maybe we'll get a make on the prints,' Carella said.
'Sure, maybe,' Meyer agreed. 'Maybe it'll rain.'
'Maybe,' Carella said.
They walked into the next shop. There were two men behind the counter. Both grinned as Meyer and Carella crossed the room.
'Good afternoon,' one said, smiling.
'A pleasant day,' the other said, smiling.
'I'm Jason Bloom,' the first said.
'I'm Jacob Bloom,' echoed the other.
'How do you do?' Carella answered. 'We're Detectives Meyer and Carella of the Eighty-seventh Squad.'
'A pleasure, gentlemen,' Jason said.
'Welcome to our shop,' Jacob said.
'We're trying to trace the owner of these binoculars,' Carella said. He put them on the counter. 'Do you recognize them?'
'Pieter-Vondiger,' Jason said.
'Excellent glasses,' Jacob said.
'Superb.'
'Magnificent.'
Carella broke into the lavish praise. 'Recognize them?'
'Pieter-Vondiger,' Jason said. 'Didn't we—?'
'Precisely,' Jacob said.
'The man with the—'
And the brothers burst out laughing together. Carella and Meyer waited. The laughter showed no signs of subsiding. It was reaching heights of hysteria, unprecedented hurricanes of hilarity, fits of festivity. Still, the detectives waited. At last the laughter subsided.
'Oh, my God,' Jason said, chuckling.
'Do we remember these glasses?'
'Do we?' Jason said.
'Oh, my God,' Jacob said.
'Do you?' Carella asked. He was hot.
Jason sobered instantly. 'Are these the glasses, Jacob?' he asked.
'Certainly,' Jacob said.
'But are you sure?'
'The scratch on the side, don't you remember? See, there is the scratch. Don't you remember he complained about the scratch? We reduced the glasses a dollar and a quarter because of the scratch. And all the while he was—' Jacob burst out laughing again.
'Oh, my God,' Jason said, laughing with him.
Meyer looked at Carella. Carella looked at Meyer. Apparently the heat in the shop had grown too intense for the brothers.
Carella cleared his throat. Again the laughter subsided.
'Did you sell these glasses to someone?' he asked.
'Yes,' Jason said.
'Certainly,' Jacob said.
'Who?'
'The man with the lollipop!' Jason said,burstinginto anew gale of hysteria.
'The man with the lollipop!' Jacob repeated, unable to keep his laugh from booming out of his mouth.
'This man had a lollipop?' Carella asked, deadpanned.
'Yes, yes! Oh, my God!'
'He was sucking on it all the while we haggled over the… the…'
'… the glasses,' Jason concluded. 'Oh, my God. Oh, my good Lord! When he left the shop, we couldn't stop laughing. Do you remember, Jacob?'
'Yes, yes, how could I forget? A red lollipop! Oh, was he enjoying it? Oh, no child ever enjoyed a lollipop more! It was wonderful! Wonderful!'
'Magnificent!' Jason said.
'Fantastically—'
'What was his name?' Carella asked.
'Who?' Jason asked, sobering.
'The man with the lollipop.'
'Oh. What was his name, Jacob?'
'I don't know, Jason.'
Carella looked at Meyer. Meyer looked at Carella.
'Isn't there a bill Of sale, Jacob?'
'Certainly, Jason.'
'When was he here?'
'Two weeks ago, wasn't it?'
'A Friday?'
'No, a Saturday. No, you're right, it was a Friday.'
'When was that? What date?'
'I don't know. Where's the calendar?' The brothers busied themselves over a calendar on the wall.
'There,' Jacob said, pointing.
'Yes,' Jason agreed.
'Friday,' Jacob said.
'July twelfth.'
'Would you check your bills?' Carella asked.
'Certainly.'
'Of course.'
The brothers moved into the back room.
'Nice,' Meyer said.
'What?'
'Brotherly love.'
'Um,' Carella answered.
The brothers returned with a yellow carbon copy of the bill.
'Here it is,' Jason said.
'July twelfth, just as we thought.'
'And the man's name?' Carella asked.
'M. Samalson,' Jason said.
'No first name?'
'Just the initial,' Jason said.
'We only take the initial,' Jacob corroborated.
'Any address?' Meyer asked.
'Can you read this?' Jason asked, indicating the writing on the line printed Address:
'It's your handwriting.'
'No, no, you wrote it,' Jason said.
'You did,' Jacob told him. 'See how the t is crossed. That is your handwriting.'
'Possibly. But what does it say?'
'That's a t, for sure,' Jacob said.
'Yes. Oh, it's Calm's Point! Of course! That's Calm's Point.'
'But what's the address?'
'31-63 Jefferson Street, Calm's Point,' Jason said, in a deciphering burst.
Meyer copied down the address.
'A lollipop!'Jason said.
'Oh, my God,' Jacob said.
'Thank you very much for…' Carella started, but the brothers were laughing to beat the band, so the two detectives simply left the shop.
'Calm's Point,' Carella said when they were outside. 'Clear the hell over on the other end of the city.'
'It would be that way,' Meyer said.
'We'd better get back to the squad. Pete may want to put a Calm's Point precinct on it.'
'Right,' Meyer said. They walked back to the car. 'You want to drive?'
'I don't care. You tired?'
'No. No. I just thought you might want to drive.'
'Okay,' Carella said.
They got into the car.
'Think those reports on the prints are back yet?'
'I hope so. Might save us a call to Calm's Point.'
'Um,' Meyer said.
They set the car in motion. They were silent for a while. Then Meyer said, 'Steve, it's hot as hell today.'
The reports from the Bureau of Criminal Identification and the F.B.I, were waiting at the office when Carella and Meyer returned. Both agencies had reported that they were unable to find fingerprints in thek vast files corresponding to the ones taken from the binoculars.
Hawes walked into the squad-room as the men were reading the reports.
'Any luck?' he asked.
'No make,' Carella said. 'But we got the name of the guy who bought those binoculars. That's a break.'