Friday could not make up its mind. It had been threatening rain since early morning, the sky a dishwater gray that changed occasionally to a pale mustard yellow that promised sunshine and then dissipated again into the drabs. At six that evening, the heat and humidity were still with the suffering populace, but nothing else was constant. There was not the slightest breeze to indicate an oncoming storm, and yet the sky seemed roiling with the promise of rain.
Outside the old gray stone Headquarters Building downtown on High Street, Kling waited on the sidewalk in front of the low flat steps, watching the homeward-bound troops coming out of the building; invariably, they looked up at the sky the moment they came through the big bronze doors at the top of the steps. Karin Lefkowitz emerged at twenty minutes past the hour. She did not look up at the sky. She was carrying one of those small folding umbrellas and probably didn't give a damn what the weather did. She was also carrying a shoulder bag in which she'd undoubtedly placed her Ree-boks; in their place, she was wearing high-heeled blue leather pumps to match her blue linen suit. He fell into step beside her.
"Hi," he said.
She turned to him in surprise, hand tightening on the umbrella as if she were getting ready to swing it.
"Oh, hi," she said, recognizing him. "You startled me."
"Sorry. Have you got time for a cup of coffee?"
She looked at him.
"Mr Kling …" she said.
"Bert," he said, and smiled.
"Does this have to do with the meeting we had on Wednesday?"
"Yes, it does."
"Then I'd prefer two things. One, whatever this is, I'd like to discuss it in my office …"
"Okay, wherever you . . ."
"… and I'd like Eileen to be present."
"Well, I came down here alone because I didn't want Eileen to be present."
"Discussing anything that concerns Eileen …"
"Yes, it does concern …"
"… would be inappropriate."
"Is it inappropriate for you and Eileen to discuss we?"
"You're not my client, Mr Kling."
"I just want to tell my side of it."
She looked at him again.
"A cup of coffee, okay?" he said. "Ten minutes of your time."
"Well…"
"Please," he said.
"Ten minutes," she said, and looked at her watch.
Carella had been waiting outside the bank since three o'clock, wondering if and when it would rain, and it was now six-thirty but it still hadn't rained. He hadn't expected Tommy to come out at three, because Tommy was an executive who went to meetings that sometimes lasted well into the night. Tommy's job was trying to rescue loans the bank had made. If the bank made a three-million-dollar loan to someone who ran a ballbearing company in Pittsburgh, and the guy started to miss his payments, Tommy got sent out to see how they could help the guy make good on the loan. The bank didn't want to own a ball-bearing company; the bank was in the money business. So if they could work something out with the guy, everybody would be happy. That was Tommy's job, and it took him all ' over the country, sometimes even to Europe. Carella could see how such a job might allow for the opportunity to fool around, if a man was so-inclined to begin with.
Tommy came out of the bank at twenty minutes to seven. There was a woman with him, an attractive brunette who appeared to be in her late twenties, smartly dressed in a tailored suit and high-heeled pumps, and carrying a briefcase. From across the street, Carella could not tell whether she was the same woman who'd been in the car last night. He gave them a lead, and then began following them, staying on the opposite side of the street, walking parallel and almost abreast of them.
They seemed to have nothing to hide. Carella guessed she was a business associate. They walked past the subway kiosk up the street; neither of them was planning to take a train anyplace. They continued on up the street toward a parking garage, and then walked past that as well, and continued walking some several blocks until they came to a second garage. The woman turned in off the sidewalk, Tommy at her side. She opened her handbag and handed him a yellow ticket. Carella immediately hailed a taxi.
He got in and showed the driver his shield.
"Just sit here," he said.
The driver sighed heavily. Cops, he was thinking.
Tommy was at the cashier's booth, paying to retrieve the parked car. He came back to where the woman was standing, and the two fell into conversation again. From the backseat of the taxi across the street, Carella watched.
Some two minutes later a red Honda Accord came up the ramp.
It was the same car Tommy had got into last night.
In this area of courthouses and state and municipal buildings, there were not many eating establishments that stayed open beyond five, six o'clock, when the streets down here became as deserted as those in any ghost town. But there was a delicatessen on the cusp of the area, closer to a genuine neighborhood, and it had a sign in its window that announced it was open till 9:00 p.m.
Kling urged Karin to have something to eat.
