"Who said I was worried? You just look green, honey pie." He called out into the squad room, "Madison, would you get the sergeant here some coffee? Baum, you want some coffee, too?" he asked Woody.
"Sure, why not?" Baum said.
Alfie returned to the subject. "You, ah, smell like a—"
"Swamp?" April helped him out.
"And you're green."
"So people have been telling me."
"You coming down with something?"
"Where's your witness? I haven't got much time."
Alfie regarded her uneasily. "You want me to get you a doctor?"
"No."
Madison came in with a single cup of precinct coffee and offered it to April. She took it, nodding her thanks. "Woody, you want to run up to the Popescu apartment and get hold of a photograph of Heather Rose?" she asked him.
"You want me to go up there now?"
"Yes. Don't call first, and don't say what you need it for. Is it okay if Madison brings the grandmother in here to ID Heather Rose?"
"Where are you going with this, April? We got a death to deal with."
"It's all connected. Madison's grandmother with the stroller saw Heather Popescu give the baby to a young woman. If we can get her to ID Heather, and ID the woman she saw Heather give the baby to as our dead girl, bingo. I just hope we don't turn up a dead baby down here."
"You think she may have killed the baby before she killed herself—or was helped along?" Alfie asked.
"Anything's possible," April murmured. She put her hand to her mouth and waited until Baum was out in the squad room. "I want to see where the body was found."
"I'll go with you."
"Then I want to see her."
"Annie Lee?"
"No, the body."
"Whatever you need, but I want you to talk to Annie."
"I only have until noon," April warned.
"What happens then, do you turn into a pumpkin?"
"Probably."
Alfie laughed. April didn't. They trooped downstairs and got into an unmarked vehicle parked down the street. A few minutes later they'd crossed the Bowery and were cruising Allen. The two-way divided avenue that bore the unassuming name of Allen Street had seen many changes over the years. Now, in addition to pockets of five- and six-story tenements from the turn of the century, and even smaller buildings like the one owned by the Popescu family, there were twenty-story apartment buildings with terraces and the large Hong Kong Supermarket where the daughter of the blue Perego stroller's new owner worked.
April stared out of the backseat window at the Popescu building. It hadn't been much to look at when it was built and was now lost in time, unexceptional in every way, just waiting for the wrecking ball. Nothing gave away what the property was used for. No air conditioners were installed in the blackened front windows. No signs identified the business. No brass plate named the tenants. And there were no yellow crime-scene tapes on the sidewalk where she assumed the dead girl had been found. April didn't believe for a moment that the girl had jumped. She guessed that the girl had killed the baby after Heather gave it back to her, and that one of the Popescus had thrown her out the window in a rage.
"Where's the scene?" she asked suddenly.
Alfie turned around and flashed her a look from the front seat. "Didn't I tell you? She was found in the alley."
No, he had not. April felt really sick. The uniform driving them killed the motor. April grabbed her purse and got out of the car slowly. It was her fault for not tumbling to this yesterday. If they'd been more agressive, maybe both mother and baby would still be alive. What were the chances of finding the baby alive now? She was afraid that the god of messing up had bewitched her last night. That faceless demon was responsible for making her think of shopping, of food. And yes, for making her so hot for love that she'd thought more of Mike, more of Emma and her pregnancy, more of searching birth records for a live Eurasian baby, than of pressing the Popescus about their employees. She'd followed the tangent instead of the lead, and now a woman was dead and had been thrown out, another piece of useless garbage.
Her face flushed. Drops of cold sweat sprouted like seedlings on her forehead—whether from sickness or shame, she didn't know. But she did know she couldn't just run away, just return to Midtown North and obey Iriarte's command to avoid involvement in this death that had occurred way out of her precinct. Alfie's concerned face told her that Madison Young had not taken her place in his estimation. She didn't have a choice. She had to stay and find out what happened to make that poor woman end up in an alley. She checked her watch. Now she doubted her wisdom in sending Baum uptown to get a photo of Heather. He'd been gone for more than forty minutes. Even with his driving style it would take upwards of two hours to get uptown to Fifty-ninth Street, wheedle a picture from the Popescu apartment, get back to show it to the stroller grandmother, and make a positive ID on Heather Rose. They also needed a photo of the dead woman for Heather Rose to see. April's gut clenched. She was getting soft. She was doing it backwards. And of course she needed to talk to the supervisor who'd said she'd seen the dead woman jump. It was already a quarter of eleven. No way was she getting back to Midtown North by noon. She looked around for a phone, thinking she should call her boss, had forgotten she now carried one in her pocket. Her right leg felt strange, weak, stuck with pins and needles. Another needle was lodged behind her right eye, stabbing outward. She wondered if this was what dying felt like.
"Hshh, hshh, hshhh."
Alfie was making the kind of sniffing noises in her direction that excited dogs make when they're close to dead meat. April's heart accelerated in a sudden surge. She could feel the
thud thud thud
as the crucial muscle kicked into gear, shooting boiling blood through her veins. She didn't want to die.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, let's go."
They crossed the sidewalk and passed through a chain-link gate into a junk-filled alley festooned with the yellow police tape April had somehow thought would be out front on Allen Street. Why had Alfie given her the impression the girl had gone out the front windows? She shook herself.
"What?" Alfie read her mind.
The cracked pavement around where the body had been found had been picked clean, possibly swept up or even vacuumed by the Crime Scene Unit. Only a few spots of dried blood were visible. April looked up at the sky. The eyes of dozens of uncurtained windows stared down at her. The alley streaked west across rows of building backs on the two blocks perpendicular to north-south running Allen Street. On the side streets moving west most of the buildings were small and had laundry strung out the windows. But directly opposite, with an entrance on Allen, was a modern apartment house, more than twelve stories tall. One side of this building had ringside seats on the backyard. Alfie followed her gaze and read her mind once again. "Yeah, we have people in there now."
April's pocket burbled, unnerving her with the unexpected vibration. After a few pulses, she managed to pluck out the plastic flip-down and gingerly punch the Talk button. She was upset and distracted by the interruption. In a normal and healthy state she would have grumbled and snapped. But now her voice came out like warm honey.
"Where are you,
chico?
' Oh, she was in trouble.
"I have a prelim on your Jane Doe," Mike said without introduction. "Guess what?"
"What?"
"Guess."
"How do you know about this?" she asked.
Mike made a sound that managed even on the phone to sound arrogant and impatient at the same time. "The woman was already dead when she hit the ground."
April's eyes swept the few spots of blood on the cement.
"Tell me something I didn't know."