He walked to the place confirmed by Heller’s map as the original murder scene. He stood by the water and looked around in all directions. So far he had learned nothing that Mallory might not have gleaned from the map. The site was within view of the path along the water. That fit nicely with Mallory’s theory of a spontaneous act. There was not sufficient cover to do a murder undisclosed.
The murder had taken place on a rainy day. Few people walked in the rain and the snow, but those who did were habitual in their defiance of the elements. He stared up at the towering building on Central Park West. The upper floors reached above the tree line of bare branches. Mallory might be looking out of one of those windows at this moment.
He walked around the leg of water to the path lined with benches, and then he sat down to wait. He had not been sitting there for very long before the one he waited on came walking along the path – the other walker in the snow.
He nearly missed her, though she was close. The bright snow had strained his eyes, and he had to work to pick out the particulars of her, the white face, white hair covered by the white woolen cape. She was as close to invisible as one could be without being a figment of the mind.
Cora pulled the hood of her white cape close about her face.
Too late.
He had seen through her camouflage. The man was very tall, but not threatening in his stance. She squinted to focus on his face which became clearer as he walked toward her.
Well, with that silly, wide grin, she might assume that he was one of the more docile lunatics who roamed the park at will. No, he was not dangerous.
Her hands went past the layers of sweaters beneath the white cape, and into the deep pockets of her white woolen trousers, looking there for a few coins.
‘Excuse me,’ the man said, standing before her now and bowing down to her so the wind wouldn’t take his words, and no matter if it did, for she read the words off his lips.
She drew the coins from her pockets and offered them to him. ‘Now promise me you won’t spend this on wine.’
‘Oh, no thank you. It’s not money I need.’
And now her suspicions were aroused anew. He didn’t want money? Well, he must be crazy, and perhaps dangerous as well. She turned away from him. He circled round to the opposite end of the path, but kept a courteous distance. There was an apology in the way he stood, and a foolish, hopeful look to his eyes, the pair of which had entirely too much white around the irises.
Oh yes, he was quite mad.
‘I need your help,’ he said. ‘It’s about what happened there on the morning of the nineteenth.’ He turned to point to that place across the dark water where the broken yellow tapes were waving in the wind. He turned back to face her before speaking again. He had already picked up on the fact that she was a lip-reader. That spoke well for presence of mind.
‘Ma’am, I don’t suppose you were out walking that morning?’
He seemed sane enough now. The shape of the words on his mouth had a good neighborhood to them, without slang or slur of form, and she could find no fault with his manners.
‘Yes, young man, I was out walking that morning.’
‘Did you happen to notice two people, a man and a woman, standing over there?’
He must be speaking of the young lovers, Blue Legs and the tall umbrella. Oddly, she felt protective of the young couple. Who was he to pry into their secret meeting?
‘Why do you ask?’
When he was done explaining that the lovers were murderer and victim, she felt the need to sit down. He sensed this and guided her to a bench a few feet up the path. He dusted it for her with touching chivalry and sat down beside her.
Now the man’s face was all concern. Was he reading the new horror that was setting in behind her eyes? She had taken Blue Legs’ wound for a flower. What a fool she had been. A rose in winter? Why hadn’t she known the young woman was on her way to dying? Perhaps she could have…
Oh yes, she could have. If only she had not the fool’s idea to go out without her glasses and her hearing aid. And now she bowed her head with the weight of a dark understanding. In the same way she had prevented the carnage twixt a beetle and a spider, with only the flick of her wrist, she might have prevented a murder.
So a bug survived, a woman died.
Blue Legs, I am so sorry.
He touched her hand lightly to call her face back to his so he might ask another question. Had she seen anything else, anything out of the ordinary?
Well, no. The young lovers had taken all her attention.
A speeding blur of red cap and jacket with churning blue-jeaned legs ran past them in a boy’s whiff of spearmint gum and wet wool. A dog was fast on the heels of the boy. Dog and boy left the path and put new tracks in the virgin snow of the incline behind the benches. Then they were gone.
‘Oh, the dog. Yes, there was a dog racing up that hill, and he caught his leash in the brambles. I suppose I should have thought it odd to see the dog with the leash and no human attached to the other end. But you know, people will let the dogs run wild in the park, though it is against the law.’
‘There’s someone I’d like you to meet,’ said the man. And now she found his smile quite engaging – though still a bit loony.
When they stopped to speak with the doorman at the Coventry Arms, the man’s friend, Mallory, was not at home. The doorman checked the name against a list on frayed, creased paper. He smiled broadly and invited them to wait for Miss Mallory in the lobby.
‘Mallory, just sit down and shut the hell up.’
To Coffey’s surprise, and he hoped it was concealed surprise, she sat.
‘Don’t you ever walk out on a meeting again. I don’t want any more grief from you. Don’t you even think about irritating me any more, no more insubordination, none of that crap. I’ve got Riker for that. If he thinks you’re stealing his song and dance, he won’t like it.’
‘I’m not going to work with Palanski.’
‘No, you’re not. But that was my decision, not yours. And now about that other little job I gave you. Did you pull the records for me?’ Did you steal them for me?
She said nothing and he had to make what he could of the silence. He was operating by Mallory’s rule book now.
‘I hope you’re doing this discreetly.’ Don’t get caught.
Silence.
‘I’ve got an idea Palanski does a lot of overtime.’ He’s on the take.
She only nodded, but that was promising.
‘He seems to have some kind of radar for homicide scenes within smelling distance of money – even on his days off. He was on vacation time when the body turned up in the park. Oh, sorry, Mallory. I’m telling you what you already know. That’s rude, isn’t it?’
He was close to joy when the side of her mouth dipped with annoyance. So even Mallory had buttons. ‘Did you bring me the records?’
‘You don’t want to see his records,’ she said.
‘Mallory – ’
‘Markowitz never turned on a cop.’
‘Shut up, Mallory. Granted, I’m no Markowitz, but neither are you. Your old man was a detail fanatic. He’d take any information he could get, from anywhere, anybody. You should have learned more from him when you had the chance. Your lone cowboy attitude isn’t something I expect to cure in a day, but I do want to keep you alive long enough to bring you up on charges the next time you cross me. Someone at the Coventry Arms tipped Palanski to the activity. It might be your perp, or it might be you rattled another cage and it’s unrelated. If I’m going to plug the leaks, I need the dirt on Palanski.’
Her arms folded across her chest. No, she was telling him, she was not going to roll over on a cop.
‘I’ll handle Palanski,’ she said. And then she threw in, ‘If you like,’ as a concession. It was a small gift from Mallory, a consolation prize as she was telling him to go to hell. Another round was lost.