Judging Time

up his notes.'

'Did he give you any specifics?'

'No, he didn't tell me anything but what I've just told you.'

'Is he going to be helpful?' Kiang asked.

April shrugged. 'Jason? Depends what you ask for. '

'What else on Liberty?'

Mike spoke up. 'We have extremely conflicting reports, what we might call an unclear picture.'

'Oh?'

'Yeah, Daphne Petersen is adamant that Liberty's a violent and dangerous guy. She says Liberty flew off the handle all the time for no reason. He was verbally abusive. Did you see her on TV last night? It was in the paper this morning she saw Liberty punch and kick his wife on at least three occasions in the last year. I wouldn't give that too much credence,' Mike said.

'Emma Chapman, Merrill's best friend, said he's a pussycat, wouldn't hurt a fly,' April added. 'Patrice, the restaurant manager, says he's the kindest man in the world. Direct quote, 'He adored her.' '

'Maybe those two are lying.'

'I don't know about that. I spoke to her parents on the phone. They said Liberty was a doting husband. They're certain their daughter would not have tolerated an abusive relationship—'

'We've heard that line before.'

'Oh, come on, Kiang. The parents wouldn't protect him now if he was a violent type,' Mike argued.

Kiang cut him off. 'Next item. What else have you got, April? Have you run the route and confirmed Liberty could have done it in the time frame?'

'Not yet.'

'Anybody see anybody fleeing from the scene?'

'Not yet.'

'Anybody see Liberty leave his apartment or come back?'

'If anyone did, he isn't saying,' she murmured.

Kiang's foot stopped tapping. 'Someone will,' he predicted. 'Any way a person can get in and out of the building without being seen?'

'No confirmation on that yet, either.'

'Jesus. What have you people been doing with your time? Okay, go try it. Run the route, see how long it takes. See if Liberty could have done it.'

Mike saluted. 'Yessir.'

Kiang ignored the gesture. 'If you can fit Liberty in the time frame, we'll have motive and opportunity— probable cause to do a search of his place. Meanwhile, keep him talking all day, casually tell him what a trial will do to him, see if you can get him to confess. It would make things a lot easier.' Kiang was finished with them. He checked the gold watch again. 'See you later.'

'We don't have a motive for this guy. What an asshole,' Mike muttered as they left.

'And Liberty won't be there,' April murmured. 'Today's his wife's funeral.'

A few minutes later a wrathful April stalked up Mott Street with Mike striding beside her.

'Come on, April, talk to me.'

The temperature had dropped to nearly zero. Zero in New York was really cold. The unappetizing, weary- looking leaves and stems that Chinatown grocers clipped from their produce and threw in the gutters were now frozen still lifes in black ice. Mike crunched over them in his cowboy boots. The boots were new, black and white snakeskin. With thick socks, they kept his feet warm and dry. He wondered what April was up to. Chinatown was pretty shut down in weather like this. Al the little stores that hung their merchandise in the doorways and stacked it on flimsy tables on the sidewalks in good weather had moved operations inside. Only the Chinese newspapers were stacked outside on the tables today. April's face was muffled in a long scarf. As animated as she had been with Kiang before Mike arrived, she was shut down now. He figured it was time for a showdown.

'Where are you going?'

April stopped her uphill trudge on Mott for a moment and lowered her scarf. 'Do you have any idea what you looked like in there, Mike?'

'What?' Mike was wearing his new black leather, three-quarter-length coat, heavy enough for any weather, new snakeskin boots, a slick gray jacket with a silvery shine in the weave, charcoal trousers, and a black shirt with a green knit tie. He'd taken great care with the combination, had deodorized, perfumed himself, combed his hair many times to get it just right. He'd even trimmed his mustache so it didn't look too wild for the occasion. He thought he looked his best ever.

'How could anybody tell the bad guys from you? You're crude. You talk and look like a dealer.'

Mike was called worse nearly every day. But not by anybody he cared about. He was taken aback for a moment, then he made a huge effort and smiled. 'Nah, I don't look that good. No gold, no rings, no bracelets. I'm a poor honest cop.' Mike took it a little further and laughed. 'Yo, you think I should let my hair grow and wear a ponytail?'

He knew where April was coming from, figured her feet in the prissy little East Side boots were completely numb by now. The cloth, Upper-East-Side-lady coat and tailored skirt were a dead giveaway. She was not dressing for the job. She was dressing to attract the DA. Yep, he could see that her feet hurt and she was freezing. She blew a cloud of steam out of her mouth, started walking again. She was so stupid that he feared she actually liked the guy.

'You're steaming, baby, you getting primed by the DA?'

'Trust you to have a filthy mind,' she spat out. 'We're working a case, remember?'

'Hey, you can't fool me. You've got the hots for that dumb DA. You slept with him yet, querida?'

The muffler was up again, but April's eyes could not disguise the erupting volcano behind it. 'You acted like an asshole in his office, and now you're acting like an asshole with me. What's your problem?'

'Hey, I may be a dumb cop. I may not wear a monkey suit and loafers with little tassels like your little pendejo lawyer. But lady, you better watch who you're calling an asshole.'

'You were out of line in there. You call that smart?' '

'You think suits make a man, huh? Tassels, cojones?'

'Pubic hairs and balls, very cultured, Mike. I'm impressed with your style.' April plunged her hands deep in her coat pockets.

'You brought it up.'

'Well, I guess you don't understand what any of this is about.' April stopped in front of a dirty window with displays of ugly dried twigs and leaves and powders. Chinese labels on different colored pieces of paper, but the prices in dollars and cents.

'Oh, I understand what it's about. You don't care if a guy's an asshole. You just want the asshole to wear a suit.'

'Hey. It's not that.'

'What is it then? He's Chinese? He's sexy and I'm not?' '

April didn't answer.

'Oh, great. This is great. I've always been straight with you. You wanted respect. I respected you. I met your parents. I took you to meet my mother. I didn't just throw you over my shoulder and take you to my cave, show you how a real man makes love, so you don't think I'm sexy. This is a switch. I didn't grab you, so now you think I'm dumb and crude.' God, he was loco, a gored bull. His face burned with the pain.

Hers was white. 'Look, I like you. Why don't we leave it at that.'

Like you. 'Like you' meant she didn't find him sexy. That meant he saved her face all these months only to lose his own.

'I have to go in here. You all right?' Her voice was soft now, seemed to quaver in the frigid air.

Chinese apothecary. Sold disgusting powders made of insects, dead animals, mold, ghosts and dragons, fish guts and bone, leaves and twigs. For every ill known to man and woman. Not sexy, not lovable. Ugly and crude. Mike's heart was splitting. He turned to go back down the hill to find his car.