Soft, was she getting soft? And now that he mentioned it, she'd forgotten to call Jason. Was she losing her edge? She felt clammy and scared. Soft? Really? 'I'll call him,' she promised.
'Good, call him now.' He flapped his hand for her to leave. She didn't move. Iriarte and Hagedorn exchanged glances. 'Is there something wrong, Sergeant?'
'Bernardino needs a translator for the witness,' April said firmly. She wasn't going soft. She was going down to Chinatown to find out what happened to that woman and her baby.
'So? Chinatown is filled with translators.'
Now her head was getting hard to hold up; it was as heavy as a boulder. She was torn between her former boss and her present boss and couldn't think straight.
Iriarte sniffed the air. 'Do you smell something funny?' he asked Hagedorn.
'Yeah, what is that weird smell? Ugh.' Hagedorn's eyes circled their sockets.
Both men focused their attention on her. 'April?'
What was this about? She sniffed, horrified, wondering what it could be.
'What is that smell?'
She wrinkled her nose. Yes, there did seem to be a weird smell, and it did seem to be coming from the white shirt she was wearing under her navy jacket. Or maybe it was coming from the red-and-gold scarf tied around her neck. 'I have no idea, sir.'
Hagedorn not so discreetly sniffed the air around her. Suddenly she knew what it was. Sweat broke out on her forehead. Her bottom slid forward on the chair. The steam from the kettle had gotten inside her and was now coming out of her pores. Her face was red, and the boulder that was her head threatened to explode. Oh, she was in trouble, and there was a dead woman in Chinatown who needed her attention.
'And they found the missing stroller right on Allen Street. I know we can clear this up today, sir,' she promised.
Iriarte wrinkled his nose, then flapped his hand at Hagedorn. Hagedorn nodded, jumped up, and moved out the door, closing it behind him. 'Are we going to have a problem, you and I?' Iriarte demanded.
Dizziness overcame her. 'No, sir.'
'Then don't make assumptions. Do what you're told.'
'Yes, sir.' She tried to sit up, felt horrible, wondered if her mother would go so far as to kill her to stop her from marrying a Mexican.
Iriarte grimaced, grit his teeth, stroked his skinny mustache with two fingers, then punched out his words, enunciating clearly. 'Find the baby. That's your job here.'
'Yes, sir.'
'And whatever you do, get back here before lunch.'
April smiled weakly. 'Thank you, sir.' 'And April—'
'Yes, sir?'
'Are you sure you're all right?'
April touched the cell phone in her jacket pocket. 'Oh yeah, I'm fine.'
He raised his eyebrows. 'Okay, then take the dunce. Maybe he can do something useful.'
April pulled herself out of the chair, mustered what she could of her dignity, and left the office. 'Woody,' she called into the squad room.
Baum was sitting at his desk, eating a bagel. 'Morning, Sergeant. Ooh, what's that smell?'
'Let's go,' she barked.
'You all right?'
'Now.'
'Uh, any chance of finishing my breakfast?'
'No.' April was angry and hurt. She'd been poisoned by her mother, and her boss was calling her soft. She scowled at the bagel crumbs proliferating on Woody's desk. She'd be damned if she'd let herself get soft. She felt worse and worse. She hadn't spoken to Mike this morning. If she died now, he'd never know what happened.
'Okay, okay, if it's that important.' Woody brushed the crumbs onto the floor.
April stopped by her office to get her purse. Message slips indicated that during her meeting with Iriarte, Jason and her mother had called. Nothing from Mike. On the other hand, if she died suddenly, Mike might well investigate. He might figure out what happened and send Sai Yuan Woo to jail for life. That would be a fitting end for the Dragon.
April left the precinct without returning her calls. She didn't notice Baum's driving and didn't hear a word he said, though he chattered all the way downtown.
Bernardino's first words when she entered his glass
office were 'You look bad. What's the matter with you?'
April sniffed her hand. 'Don't worry about it.'
'Who said I was worried? You just look green, honey pie.' He called out into the squad room, 'Madison, would you get the sergeant here some coffee? Baum, you want some coffee, too?' he asked Woody.
'Sure, why not?' Baum said.
Alfie returned to the subject. 'You, ah, smell like a—'
'Swamp?' April helped him out.
'And you're green.'
'So people have been telling me.'
'You coming down with something?'
'Where's your witness? I haven't got much time.'
Alfie regarded her uneasily. 'You want me to get you a doctor?'
'No.'
Madison came in with a single cup of precinct coffee and offered it to April. She took it, nodding her thanks. 'Woody, you want to run up to the Popescu apartment and get hold of a photograph of Heather Rose?' she asked him.
'You want me to go up there now?'
'Yes. Don't call first, and don't say what you need it for. Is it okay if Madison brings the grandmother in here to ID Heather Rose?'
'Where are you going with this, April? We got a death to deal with.'
'It's all connected. Madison's grandmother with the stroller saw Heather Popescu give the baby to a young woman. If we can get her to ID Heather, and ID the woman she saw Heather give the baby to as our dead girl, bingo. I just hope we don't turn up a dead baby down here.'
'You think she may have killed the baby before she killed herself—or was helped along?' Alfie asked.
'Anything's possible,' April murmured. She put her hand to her mouth and waited until Baum was out in the squad room. 'I want to see where the body was found.'
'I'll go with you.'
'Then I want to see her.'
'Annie Lee?'
'No, the body.'
'Whatever you need, but I want you to talk to Annie.'
'I only have until noon,' April warned.
'What happens then, do you turn into a pumpkin?'
'Probably.'
Alfie laughed. April didn't. They trooped downstairs and got into an unmarked vehicle parked down the street. A few minutes later they'd crossed the Bowery and were cruising Allen. The two-way divided avenue that bore the unassuming name of Allen Street had seen many changes over the years. Now, in addition to pockets of five- and six-story tenements from the turn of the century, and even smaller buildings like the one owned by the Popescu family, there were twenty-story apartment buildings with terraces and the large Hong Kong Supermarket where the daughter of the blue Perego stroller's new owner worked.
April stared out of the backseat window at the Popescu building. It hadn't been much to look at when it was built and was now lost in time, unexceptional in every way, just waiting for the wrecking ball. Nothing gave away what the property was used for. No air conditioners were installed in the blackened front windows. No signs
