‘Okay, you handle it.’ Was he losing his mind, loosing her on Palanski, giving her carte blanche? ‘Don’t do anything Markowitz wouldn’t ask you to do.’
‘Understood.’
Later, in the washroom, he saw a ghost in the mirror over the sink. It was Markowitz – no, it was Jack Coffey wearing Markowitz’s old worries over Mallory and what she did and what might come back on him. Breaking laws to keep them was the norm now.
He was so easily seduced by her.
He was going to kill her. It was the only way. But first, a little fun. He would make her pay for torturing him, and she would pay slowly.
Thoughts of her came and passed. When she was in his mind, she brought with her a burning sensation, inflicting a hot red flush all through his body and his brain. When he thought of her, it was her eyes he saw before him, the bright lanterns of an onrushing accident, running mindless, relentless, along a single track, no one at the wheel, no way to stop her.
And each time that moment of helpless fear and panic passed on, he was left with exhausted humiliation and anger. Now his hands balled into fists so tight, his nails left red indentations on his palms. One of those indents was filling with blood.
He looked down at the bleeding flesh. She had reached out and done this to him. She had drawn first blood, and she would be sorry.
A fat gray bird strutted along the ledge by his open window. It was still there when he returned from the kitchen with the bread. He crumbled a slice in his hand and slowly reached through the window to lay a line of crumbs for the bird.
It jerked and started and cocked its head to look at him with one eye only. It was a city pigeon and unafraid of humans, who had failed in all their pathetic attempts to annihilate its entire species as a defecating public nuisance. Contemptuous of the hand which lay only inches away, the bird concentrated on the meal of bread crumbs which brought it ever closer to its death.
A young woman stood at the desk in the lobby. Something was concealed behind her back and concealed quickly at first sight of the couple being pointed out to her by the man behind the desk.
Formal introductions were made to Cora by her new friend, the man with the foolish smile, and now the small party moved up through the floors of the tall building to the spacious apartment which did not fit the personality of the young woman called Mallory.
‘Mallory, you were right,’ said the man whom Cora now called Charles.
He was well mannered in the way he kept his face toward her so that she should not miss any part of his conversation with the young woman.
‘Amanda was meeting him in the park that day. It was a spontaneous act, as you said. And the murder occurred at 7:45. We have a witness. Mrs Daily, may I introduce my partner, Mallory? Mallory, this is Cora Daily, who likes to take long walks through the park in bad weather.’
‘How do you do,’ said Cora. The child before her was so lovely, but there was an aspect to the girl that was inhuman. Eyes like a cat she had. Well, that was all right, in fact, that was fine. In seventy-eight years, Cora had outlived many cats and had no fear of Mallory.
‘What did you see?’ asked the young woman, who was also quick to pick up on the lip-reading. She brought her face low and close. ‘Did you see the murder?’
‘No, I’m afraid not.’
‘Did you see him strike her? The first blow?’
‘No. But I did see the meeting between them.’
‘So you can identify the killer?’
‘No, you see I wasn’t wearing my glasses. But I know he was a tall man.’
And now Cora could tell this was not news to the girl. She felt she had let down the charming Mr Butler. ‘I saw the red wound to the side of her head after he struck her. There was an umbrella in the way when the blow must have been struck. But he was holding on to her before and after the wound appeared. Is that helpful to you?’
‘Tell me more about the perp.’
‘Excuse me? The…’
The perpetrator, you said he was tall. How tall?‘
‘He was taller than the woman.’
‘How much taller?’
‘Hard to say. The umbrella was an impediment most of the time. And I suppose the way he held it made him very tall, but – ’
‘Do you think I’m very tall?’
‘Oh, my, yes.’
‘Are you even sure it was a man? Or did you assume that because you thought they were lovers?’
‘You’re quite right, of course. I shouldn’t have assumed that. I haven’t been very helpful, have I?’
‘Of course you have,’ said her young man, gallantly jumping into a breach of uncomfortable silence. He looked up and exchanged expressions with the young woman. His face said, Play nicely. And her face said, Why the hell not. And now the young woman smiled.
‘You were better than most. I have nightmares that any case will hang on an eyewitness. Eyewitnesses are never any good. Their testimony is the worst evidence you can bring into a court room. But you confirmed the scene of the crime. That’s useful. You placed the time of the murder, that’s helpful. You saw the first blood. I like that. All in all, a good job.’
And now the smile evaporated, and Cora could read nothing in the young woman’s face any more.
Charles leaned forward, still careful to include Cora in the conversation by not averting his lips as he spoke. ‘Mallory, do any of the suspects have dogs?’
‘Everyone in the building has a dog. Why?’
‘Cora tells me there was a dog running through the park that morning. He was dragging a leash. Maybe one of your suspects walked the dog that morning and then lost track of the animal while he was doing a bit of murder.’
Mallory turned to Cora. ‘You saw the dog?’
Cora nodded.
‘What was the breed?’
‘I’m afraid I couldn’t say. My glasses – ’
‘What size was it?’
‘Oh, a standard size, not awfully big or very small. I’m sorry, I can’t – ’
‘What color was it?’
‘I don’t remember, but I think it might have been dark – but not black, not that dark – maybe a brown dog.’
‘Maybe?’
She had no answer for that. She had underestimated the young woman, and now she was wondering if there had been a dog at all, or a pair of lovers. Could they have both been women? Might the dog have been -
‘Well now,’ said Charles, lurching once more into the silence. ‘You place a dog on the scene, and you’ve ruled out toy poodles and Great Danes.’
The young woman nodded. This was useful to her, which seemed to please Charles very much. Any fool could see he was in love with the girl. Well, at least he was happy. Good job. She had come to like this man.
When she rose, announcing that she must take her leave of them, he escorted her down in the elevator and handed her into a cab. He insisted on paying her fare to the driver. As she shook hands with him, she said, ‘You were born in the wrong century, my dear.’
When he returned to the apartment, it was difficult to miss the sharp knife lying on the coffee table next to the canvas duffel bag. As if she didn’t own enough weapons. First there was the very large gun which bulged under the blazer. She removed this now and took it into a back room. Then there was the gun that she ought to be carrying, the one the police department actually approved of. He supposed she kept that one at home. And last, there was Markowitz’s ancient Long Colt, which she kept in the desk of her office at Mallory and Butler, Ltd. He would never have pictured her with a knife.
He picked it up and turned it in his hand. On the reverse side of the blade was the crest of Maximillian Candle.
‘It’s probably none of my business,’ said Mallory, walking back into the room and nodding towards the knife, ‘but I wondered what was going on in the basement. I just came from there. The door was unlocked, and the partition for Max’s equipment was wide open.’