Lullaby

'I think he was really drunk,' Carella said.

'Probably sobered up on the way over to the apartment,' Meyer said.

'Doorman says he was sober.'

'So you have him sober at the scene of the crime.'

'Yes.'

'Okay, go ahead.'

The more he drank, the more the idea became an obsession with him. He had to get to his apartment, had to make love to Annie. When he talked to her on the phone at twelve-thirty, he whispered what he wanted to do ...

'Did he tell you this?'

'Yes.'

'That he whispered to her?'

'Yes.'

'Said what?'

'Said, "I want to fuck you."'

'The son of a bitch,' Meyer said.

'Uh-huh,' Nellie said. 'And she said?'

'She said, "Good. Come on over."'

'Precocious.'

'Very.'

'He told you all this?'

'We have it on tape.'

'What was his response?'

'He said, "In a little while."'

'You've got all this on tape?'

'All of it. We've also got his hostess overhearing him. Chastity Kerr. We've got a statement from her.'

'The exact words he gave you.'

'Yes. Telling Annie, "In a little while."'

'Okay. Go ahead.'

At one o'clock he leaves the Kerr party, ostensibly to clear his head. By the time he gets to his own building, four blocks uptown, he's cold sober. He goes upstairs, finds Annie waiting for him with nothing on under her skirt. They make passionate love on the living room couch, he goes in to kiss his baby daughter on her rosebud cheek, and then he leaves. The doorman clocks him coming out of the elevator at a quarter to two.

'Wham, bang, thank you, ma'am,' Nellie said.

'That's how his story goes,' Meyer said.

'And your version?'

'I think the strain of the relationship was beginning to tell on him,' Meyer said. 'The very fact that on New Year's Eve, he would risk running back to his apartment for a quick assignation . . .'

'Well, you yourself said he was totally gone on her.'

'Exactly my point. And getting in deeper and deeper. On Christmas, for example, he . . .'

'No puns, please,' Nellie said, and smiled.

Carella returned the smile. Meyer did not.

'On Christmas, he gave her a gift. Our first Christmas together,' Meyer said, bitterly repeating Hodding's words. 'And he caused her to break up with a decent . . .'

'What kind of a gift?' Nellie asked.

'Lapis pendant on a gold chain.'

'Expensive?'

'I would guess moderately expensive.'

'Well, there's cheap lapis, too,' Nellie said.

'He bought this on Lamont.'

'Okay, expensive,' Nellie said.

'What I'm saying, this was a man out of control . . .'

'Uh-huh.'

'Falling in love with a teenager to begin with ...'

'Uh-huh.'

'Getting in way over his head, buying her expensive gifts, making love to her in the park, for Christ's sake, meeting her in cheap hotels off the Stem, hookers parading the halls, taking risks no man in his right . . .'

'Detective Meyer, excuse me,' Nellie said. 'Why'd he kill her?'

Because he couldn't see any other way out.'

'Where'd you get that?'

'From everything he said.'

'He told you he was in over his head?'

'No, but . . .'

'Told you he couldn't handle this?'

'Well . . .'

'Couldn't see any other way out?'

'Not in those exact words.'

'What words then?'

'Mrs Brand, excuse me,' Meyer said. 'He was in that apartment making love to this girl between one-fifteen and a quarter to two. When he got home with his wife, forty-five minutes later, the girl is dead. Stabbed. Are we supposed to believe someone else got into that apartment during those forty-five minutes? Isn't it more reasonable to assume that Hodding either figured this was a good time to end his goddamn problems with this girl, or else he . . .'

'What problems? How did he indicate to you in any way that he considered this relationship a problem?'

'He said he had to see her, had to . . .'

'I don't see that as a problem. In fact, he was seeing her regularly. Seeing her was not a problem, Detective Meyer.'

'Okay, then let's say they argued about something, okay? Let's say they made love and she told him she didn't want to see him anymore. She'd bounced her boyfriend in November, why couldn't she now do the same thing with Hodding? Over and done with, goodbye. Only he wasn't having any of it. Not after all the deception of the past few months. So he flies off the deep end, goes out to the kitchen for a knife - he knows where they are, he lives in this . . .'

'I've granted you means,' Nellie said.

'And comes back and stabs her,' Meyer said.

'Uh-huh,' Nellie said.

'He was in that apartment for a half-hour,' Meyer said.

'Okay, let's say all this happened,' Nellie said. 'They made love and she told him thanks, it was nice, but that's the last dance, goodbye and good luck, and he stormed out into the kitchen and grabbed the knife and did her in. Okay? Is that your scenario?'

'Yes,' Meyer said.

'Let's say all of that - which you can't prove, by the way - is true. Then answer me one other question.'

'Sure.'

'Why'd he then kill his own daughter?'

And to that, there was no answer.

* * * *

Henry Tsu did not enjoy being bad-mouthed.

As far as he was concerned, he was a trustworthy businessman and he did not like people spreading rumors about him. That his business happened to be illegal had nothing to do with whether or not he conducted it like a gentleman. True, Henry had been forced on occasion to break a few collarbones and heads, but even when force had been called for, the business community understood that such action had been an absolute necessity. Henry had a good reputation. He hated to see it going down the toilet because of a little spic cocksucker.

José Domingo Herrera, who years ago used to do some work for the Chang people when they had what was called the Yellow Paper Gang in Chinatown. Henry had heard that Herrera was very good at what he did. What he did was a secret between himself and Chang Tie Fei, otherwise known as Walter Chang here in this city. Then again, Henry's full and honorable name was Tsu Hong Chin. How he had got to be Henry was a mystery even to himself. Perhaps it was because he looked very much like Henry Fonda when he was young. With Chinese eyes.