"On the night Miss Hernandez was killed? Did she mention to you who she was seeing? Who the man was?"
Dolores was staring at him. "Don't I know you?" she asked.
"Not unless you've been inside the 87th Precinct," he answered quickly.
"Haven't I seen you in the neighborhood?"
"Well, I work in the neighborhood. Naturally…"
"I thought I knew all the bulls from the 87th," Dolores said speculatively. "Well." She shrugged.
"About this man."
"
"What?"
"I already told them this. The others who came. Detectives Meyer and… who was the other?"
"I don't remember."
"Hengel," Dolores said. "Yes, Detective Hengel."
"Of course," he said. "Yes. Hengel. You already told them this?"
"Certainly. The next day. That room downstairs was flooded with police. Meyer and…" She stopped suddenly.
"It was Temple," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Temple was the other cop's name."
"Yes," he said. "What did you tell them?"
"You said Hengel."
"What?"
"Hengel. You said it was Hengel."
"No," he said, "you're mistaken. I said Temple."
"I said Hengel, and you said yes, it was Hengel," Dolores insisted.
"Well, we have a Hengel at the station house, too," he said irritably. "In any case, what did you tell them?"
Dolores looked at him long and hard. Then she said, "Let me see your badge."
This is Steve Carella, folks, coming to you again from atop lovely Hotel Grover in the charming Lion House room. Ah, I hear the orchestra tuning up, ladies and gentlemen, so perhaps we'll have some delightful cocktail music. We broadcast from this spot every day at the same time, you know, through the auspices of the National Foundation for Contracting Double Pneumonia. We get a lovely little breeze here atop the Hotel Grover, and the breeze is never quite so charming as when it whips around the corners of the Lion House room. So stay tuned, folks, for a lot of laughs and a few surprises.
The surprises today include an announcement from Detective-Lieutenant Peter Byrnes, my immediate superior, who wishes you to know that his son Larry Byrnes was today voted Drug Addict of the Year cum Murder Suspect. Now, how's that for a little surprise, folks? Knock the wind out of you? Damn near knocked me flat on my ass, so the least it should do is knock a little wind out of you. What's that? Excuse me, folks, I'm being signaled from Hy Auerglass in the control booth. What is it, Hy? Oh, we've been cut off the air? That last "ass" did it, huh? Well, those are the breaks. I can always go back to being a cop.
Oh, that poor son of a bitch. I like that guy. There are cops who don't like him, but I do, and I wouldn't have another skipper if he came gold-plated. But what's he going through right now? What's he going through, with some bastard sitting out there and dangling a carrot in front of his nose, what's he…
He spotted the boy.
The same boy he'd talked to yesterday afternoon, only the boy wasn't heading for the lion house this time. Was it possible that run-in with the patrolman yesterday had scared Gonzo into calling the meet for elsewhere in the park?
The boy had not seen him, and chances were he would not recognize him even if he did see him. Carella was wearing a battered felt hat with the rim rolled down front, sides, and back. He wore a wide box raincoat which gave him an appearance of girth. And, even though it made him feel a little silly, he was wearing a false mustache. The raincoat was buttoned from top to bottom; Carella's.38 was in the right-hand pocket.
Quickly, he took off after the boy.
The boy seemed to be in a hurry. He walked straight past the lion house, up the knoll in the path, and then hesitated at a sign which read-pointing in several directions-Seals, Reptiles, Children's Zoo. The boy nodded, and then began walking in the direction of the reptiles.
Carella thought of overtaking the boy and asking him some pointed questions. But if the boy were rushing to meet Gonzo, wouldn't it be a little ridiculous to stop him? The object all sublime was to net a pusher who may have had something to do with the demise of Anнbal Hernandez. Junkies making buys could be had by the basketful. Gonzo was the important character in this business transaction, and so Carella bided his time, following the blond boy and waiting for the big deal the way a stockbroker waits for a merger between Ford and Chrysler.
The boy seemed in no particular hurry. He seemed intent, instead, on making a thorough inspection of what the zoo offered. Wherever there was an animal, the boy stopped to look at it. Occasionally, he glanced over his shoulder. Once he stopped to consult a big clock set in the face of the monkeys', apes' and gorillas' house. He nodded and then moved on.
