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"We have to ask you some questions, ma'am, we're sorry," Carella said.

"That's okay," she said.

Her voice was low, toneless.

"Can you tell us what time you found the body, ma' am?”

"It must've been eight o'clock or so," she said. "It was so hot in the apartment, I came down for a walk.”

“Here in the park," Brown said.

"Yes.”

"Saw her lying there on the path, is that it?”

"Yes. I didn't know what it was at first. I thought it was ... forgive me, I thought it was a bundle of clothes or something.

Then I realized it was a woman.”

“What'd you do then?”

“I guess I screamed.”

“Uh-huh.”

"And ran out of the park, looking for a call box. A police call box.

When I saw the patrol car, I flagged it down and showed the officers where the ... the body was.”

"Ma'am, when you came upon her, did you see anyone else in the vicinity?”

"No. Just her.”

"Hear anything in the vicinity?”

"No.”

"Any noise in the bushes ...”

"No.”

"Sound of anyone running off...”

"No. Nothing.”

"Where'd:you enter the park, ma'am?”

"At the transverse road on Larson.”

"Meet anyone coming toward you on the path?”

“No.”

"See anyone going away from you on the path?”

“No one.”

"How long did it take you to walk from Larson to where you discovered the body?”

"Five minutes? A little less?”

"See anyone at all during that time?”

"No one.”

"Okay, miss, thank you," Carella said. "We know this is upsetting,”

Brown said. "It is.”

"We know.”

"We have your address, we'll contact you if we have any further questions," Carella said. "Meanwhile, try to put it out of your mind.”

"I will, thank you.”

“Goodnight, miss," Brown said. She did not move.

"Miss?" Carella said. Still she did not move. "What is it?" he asked. She shook her head. Kept shaking it. "Miss?”

"I'm afraid," she said.

And he realized she'd been hugging herself to keep from trembling.

I'll ask the officers to drive you home," he said. "Thank you," she said.

"Well, well, what have we here?" someone said, and they turned to see Monoghan and Monroe waddling toward the bench. In this city, the presence of Homicide Division detectives was mandatory at the scene of any murder or suicide. Even though the actual case belonged to the precinct detectives catching the squeal, Homicide was always there in a supervisory and advisory capacity. Didn't used to be that way in the old days, when Homicide cops were considered elite and precinct detectives were thought of as mere general practitioners in a world of police department specialists. But that was then and this was now, and in today's Cop Land the arrival of Homicide detectives was greeted without enthusiasm by the precinct cops actually working the case. The ME ..... had his stethoscope inside the dead girl's blouse now.

Monoghan looked somehow offended. So did Monroe. "What is she, eighteen, he said. "Nineteen?" Monoghan said.

'"Barbarian takeover," Monroe said, and glanced at the girl's face.

"What do you think, Doc?”

"My immediate guess is strangulation," the ME said. "Was she raped?”

Monroe asked.

"Can't tell you that till we get her downtown.”

"Guys who strangle teenagers usually rape them first," Monroe said.

"Hello, Carella.”

"Hello," Carella said.

Brown noticed that neither of the Homicide detectives ever said hello to him, but maybe he was being overly sensitive. "Has that been your experience, he asked. "That strangled teenagers are usually rape victims as well?”

"That has been my experience, yes," Monroe said.

"Most strangled teenagers have been violated first.”

“Violated, huh?”

"Violated, yes.”

"How many strangled-teenager cases have you investigated?" Brown asked.

Carella tried to keep from smiling.

"A few in my time, kiddo," Monroe said. "Nothing's hard and fast in homicide cases, of course," Monoghan said, defending his partner. "But as a general rule, you can say strangled teenagers have usually been violated first.”

"Be interesting to find out," the ME murmured, almost to himself.

"Besides, she looks older.”

"I'd appreciate your letting us know," Monroe said.

"How old would you say?" Monoghan asked.

"In her twenties, easily," the ME said.

The two Homicide detectives were wearing black on this hot summer night, black being the color of death and therefore their color of choice. Black was the traditional color of all Homicide detectives in this city. Black suits and black hats. In this city, the Homicide detectives needed only sunglasses to make them look like the Blues Brothers. Or like the two alien-chasers in the movie Men in Black. But one of those two had been black, and Brown had never seen a black Homicide cop in his life, except on television. He wondered how these dressed-in-black, lily-white guys felt, drawing down salaries for virtually nonexistent jobs.. Supervisory and advisory, my ass, he thought. This was featherbedding of the highest order. Worst part of it was, they earned more than either he or Carella did. And it still rankled that they never said hello.

"Any witnesses to this?" Monroe asked.

"No", Carella said.

"How'd she happen to turn up?" Monoghan asked. "Woman out for a stroll found her.”

“Talk to the woman?”

"Few minutes ago. Saw no one, heard no one.”

“Any idea who she is?”

"Her name is Susan Androtti.”

"The dead girl?”

"No, the woman who...”

"I meant the girl.”

"No ID that we could see. You find anything?" he asked the ME.

Like what?" the ME said, looking up.

"Anything around her neck, or her wrists? Any kind of identification at all?”

"Nothing.”

"Jane Doe," Brown said.

"Mrs. Jane Doe," Monroe said. "That's a wedding band, isn't it?”

The men all looked down at the slender gold band on the third finger of her left hand.

"Child bride," Monroe said.

"Nice knockers on her, though," Monoghan couldn't help observing.

"You got this?" Monroe asked. "We've got it.”

“Send us copies.”

“In triplicate.”

Brown wondered if they'd say goodbye to him.

"So long, Carella," Monroe said.

Monoghan said nothing. He followed his partner off, two black suits disappearing into the blackness of the night. The ME sighed, snapped his bag shut, and stood up. "I'm done here," he said. "She's yours.”

"Okay to remove the wedding band?" Carella asked. "She's no child bride," the ME said, as if Monroe's earlier remark had just registered.

"Maybe twenty two twenty-three.”

"Okay?" Carella asked again.

"Sure, go right ahead.”

"Tell the paramedics I'll need a few minutes.”

“Take your time," the ME said, and walked toward where a man and a woman in hospital gear were leaning against the ambulance. There was the incessant chatter of invisible insects on the soft night air. Carella knelt beside the dead girl.

Rings were often difficult to remove in the summertime, but this one came off with very little effort. He held it up to the light. There were three initials engraved inside the band: IHS.

"She's a nun," he almost whispered.

"Thing you got to remember," Juju was saying, is this man never gonna get you out of his mind?”

“Mm-huh.”

"I wouldn't be sprised he the one set you up?”

“You mean this time?”

"I mean now, right here and now, set you up for the fall got you be hine bars again, man.”