Lullaby

'Didn't leave the apartment at any time, is that right?'

'He was there all night long. We had breakfast around five, five-thirty. Then everyone left, and we went to bed.'

'So there you are,' Carella said.

* * * *

'. . . scrambled eggs and bacon, coffee, hot rolls. I guess everybody cleared out by seven, seven-thirty. Then Lorraine and I went to bed.'

Meyer nodded.

"Tell me about this new boyfriend,' he said.

'Huh?'

'Annie's new boyfriend. The one you said you were going to kill'

'I told you, that was just an ex . . .'

'Yes, I know. But did she say who he was?'

'She said I was crazy.'

'Meaning what?'

'I guess . . . well, meaning there wasn't anyone else.'

'And did you believe that?'

'No.'

His eyes met Meyer's.

'I think she dropped me because of another guy.'

* * * *

New apartment building and all, he'd had to present himself in the sales office as somebody looking to buy. So he could get floor plans. He knew which apartment the Hoddings were in, he'd got that from the directory in the lobby the first time he'd gone to the building. Doorman said Yes, sir, can I help you? Told him he was looking for the sales office, which it turned out was on the third floor in an apartment that had been furnished as a model. One of the bigger apartments, the salesperson said it was going for $850,000, because of the parkside view. Same apartment higher up in the building - there were eighteen stories in all - went for a million-six. There were less expensive apartments without a view of the park, all of them facing the side street, and these started at five and a quarter, it wasn't cheap living in this part of the city, the salesperson told him.

He'd asked for floor plans of the different apartments being sold. Each apartment had a name. Like ordering from a menu. There was the Cosmopolitan and the Urbanite and the Excel and the Luxor and the most expensive of them all, the Tower Suite, which shared the entire eighteenth floor of the building with an identical apartment flipflopped. The building on the right was also only eighteen stories high, and there were height restrictions built into the zoning, so there was no question of ever being overshadowed. And, of course, on the left there was the side street.

He'd gathered up the floor plans for all the different apartments and then asked for a plan showing the location of the apartments on each floor. He knew the Hoddings were in apartment 4A. All of the A apartments were Urbanites.

So he had the floor plan right there in his hand.

Knew exactly where the fire escapes were.

Knew exactly how to get in.

Exactly how to get to her.

The salesperson thought she had a live one.

* * * *

8

Danny Gimp was offended.

'How come you went to Donner?' he asked.

The two men were sitting on a bench facing the ice-skating rink that had been named after Louis Weiss, the noted mountain climber. In this city, it was common knowledge that no mountain in the world was too high for Weiss to assail. With the help of his faithful shleppers - faithful sherpas - and with a god-given sense of humor and a ready smile, Weiss continued climbing to ever loftier heights, suffering frostbite of the nose only once. It was perhaps in memory of this single mishap in the Himalayas that an ice-skating rather than a roller-skating rink had been named after him. On occasional Saturdays, Weiss himself could be seen gliding over the ice, cheerfully asking children not to scatter candy bar wrappers on his rink. He was not there this Saturday.

It was already the fourteenth day of January.

Exactly two weeks since the murders were committed.

Eight days since Hal Willis had first contacted Fats Donner.

Now Danny Gimp wanted to know why.

Carella said, 'How do you know we went to Donner?'

'My job is listening,' Danny said, even more offended. 'I really am upset, Steve. Truly.'

'He has a short-eyes history,' Carella said.

'That is no reason to have gone to him.'

'If a baby and a sixteen-year-old are the victims, it's a very good reason.'

'This is a very big case, Steve, it's all over the papers, you can't turn on your TV without seeing something about it.'

'I know,' Carella said wearily.

'So instead of giving me a shot at a whammer, you give it to Donner. I can't understand that, Steve, I really can't.'

'Also,' Carella said lamely, 'it may be linked to a burglary Willis is working. So he went to Donner. Because he's worked with him before. Willis.'

Danny looked at him.

'Okay,' Carella said.

'I mean, you know, Steve . . .'

'I said okay.'

Both men fell silent. On the rink, children of all ages flashed by in a rainbow of color. A young girl who thought she was Katarina Witt leaped into the air, did a triple jump, beamed happily in mid-air, and fell on her ass. Without embarrassment, she got up, skated off, and tried another jump - a double this time.

'Does it hurt when it's cold like this?' Danny asked.

Carella knew instantly what he was talking about.

''Cause the leg does,' Danny said. 'From when I got shot.'

This was a lie. Danny had never been shot. He limped because he'd had polio as a child. But pretending he'd been wounded in a big gang shootout gave him a certain cachet he considered essential to the business of informing. Carella was willing to forgive the lie. The first time he himself got shot, Danny came to the hospital to see him. This was unusual for an informer. Carella guessed he actually liked Danny. Gray and grizzled and looking chubbier than he actually was because of the layers of clothing he was wearing, Danny sat on the bench and watched the skaters. He and Carella might have been old friends sitting in the park on a wintry day, remembering good times they had shared, complaining about small physical ailments like a leg that hurt when the temperature dropped.

''Cause I heard you got shot again,' Danny said.

'Yeah,' Carella said.

'On Halloween, I heard.'

'That's right.'

'So I was wondering if it hurts when it gets cold like this.'

'A little.'

'You got to stop getting shot,' Danny said.

'I know.'

'That can be a bad failing for a cop.'

'I know.'

'So be more careful.'

'I will.'

'And give me a call every now and then when you got a whammer. Instead of I have to call you and beg for a meeting here in the park where I'm freezing my ass off.'