identified the business. No brass plate named the tenants. And there were no yellow crime-scene tapes on the sidewalk where she assumed the dead girl had been found. April didn't believe for a moment that the girl had jumped. She guessed that the girl had killed the baby after Heather gave it back to her, and that one of the Popescus had thrown her out the window in a rage.
'Where's the scene?' she asked suddenly.
Alfie turned around and flashed her a look from the front seat. 'Didn't I tell you? She was found in the alley.'
No, he had not. April felt really sick. The uniform driving them killed the motor. April grabbed her purse and got out of the car slowly. It was her fault for not tumbling to this yesterday. If they'd been more agressive, maybe both mother and baby would still be alive. What were the chances of finding the baby alive now? She was afraid that the god of messing up had bewitched her last night. That faceless demon was responsible for making her think of shopping, of food. And yes, for making her so hot for love that she'd thought more of Mike, more of Emma and her pregnancy, more of searching birth records for a live Eurasian baby, than of pressing the Popescus about their employees. She'd followed the tangent instead of the lead, and now a woman was dead and had been thrown out, another piece of useless garbage.
Her face flushed. Drops of cold sweat sprouted like seedlings on her forehead—whether from sickness or shame, she didn't know. But she did know she couldn't just run away, just return to Midtown North and obey Iriarte's command to avoid involvement in this death that had occurred way out of her precinct. Alfie's concerned face told her that Madison Young had not taken her place in his estimation. She didn't have a choice. She had to stay and find out what happened to make that poor woman end up in an alley. She checked her watch. Now she doubted her wisdom in sending Baum uptown to get a photo of Heather. He'd been gone for more than forty minutes. Even with his driving style it would take upwards of two hours to get uptown to Fifty-ninth Street, wheedle a picture from the Popescu apartment, get back to show it to the stroller grandmother, and make a positive ID on Heather Rose. They also needed a photo of the dead woman for Heather Rose to see. April's gut clenched. She was getting soft. She was doing it backwards. And of course she needed to talk to the supervisor who'd said she'd seen the dead woman jump. It was already a quarter of eleven. No way was she getting back to Midtown North by noon. She looked around for a phone, thinking she should call her boss, had forgotten she now carried one in her pocket. Her right leg felt strange, weak, stuck with pins and needles. Another needle was lodged behind her right eye, stabbing outward. She wondered if this was what dying felt like.
Alfie was making the kind of sniffing noises in her direction that excited dogs make when they're close to dead meat. April's heart accelerated in a sudden surge. She could feel the
as the crucial muscle kicked into gear, shooting boiling blood through her veins. She didn't want to die.
'You okay?' he asked.
'Yeah, let's go.'
They crossed the sidewalk and passed through a chain-link gate into a junk-filled alley festooned with the yellow police tape April had somehow thought would be out front on Allen Street. Why had Alfie given her the impression the girl had gone out the front windows? She shook herself.
'What?' Alfie read her mind.
The cracked pavement around where the body had been found had been picked clean, possibly swept up or even vacuumed by the Crime Scene Unit. Only a few spots of dried blood were visible. April looked up at the sky. The eyes of dozens of uncurtained windows stared down at her. The alley streaked west across rows of building backs on the two blocks perpendicular to north-south running Allen Street. On the side streets moving west most of the buildings were small and had laundry strung out the windows. But directly opposite, with an entrance on Allen, was a modern apartment house, more than twelve stories tall. One side of this building had ringside seats on the backyard. Alfie followed her gaze and read her mind once again. 'Yeah, we have people in there now.'
April's pocket burbled, unnerving her with the unexpected vibration. After a few pulses, she managed to pluck out the plastic flip-down and gingerly punch the Talk button. She was upset and distracted by the interruption. In a normal and healthy state she would have grumbled and snapped. But now her voice came out like warm honey.
'Where are you,
' Oh, she was in trouble.
'I have a prelim on your Jane Doe,' Mike said without introduction. 'Guess what?'
'What?'
'Guess.'
'How do you know about this?' she asked.
Mike made a sound that managed even on the phone to sound arrogant and impatient at the same time. 'The woman was already dead when she hit the ground.'
April's eyes swept the few spots of blood on the cement.
'Tell me something I didn't know.'
'Okay. She was young, a teenager, a seamstress from the looks of the calluses on her thumbs, index, and pinkie fingers. She was undernourished, dehydrated, and had some real bad pelvic infection. The doc said she also had herpes and pneumonia. She was not a healthy lady.'
April's spirits sank. 'Anything else?'
'Yeah, she'd had a baby.'
'Uh-huh.'
Alfie scowled at her, tapping his foot impatiently. 'What?'
April held up a finger to silence him.
'Might be the mother you're looking for.'
'Uh-huh.'
?' Alfie punched her arm. She ignored him.
'What was the COD?' April asked.
'Someone bashed her skull in.'
'Oh, God.' More green spots drifted across April's field of vision. She had a brief vision of Anton's angry face and wondered if he was the killer. Maybe he'd retrieved the baby already and had hidden it somewhere. April wanted to tell Mike that she was sick, that people around her were sniffing her as if she smelled of death. She knew that sick smell and was scared of it. She'd been so out of it when she left home that morning she hadn't known the putrid odor was clinging to her. She didn't know how to tell him any of those things on the phone.
'You don't sound good. Is something wrong?'
'Yeah. What's your involvement in the case?' she asked weakly.
'I'm in. Where are you?'
'Allen Street. Maybe there is a God,' she murmured, surprised she was so relieved.
Alfie demanded again.
April handed the phone to him. 'It's Sergeant Sanchez of Homicide. He seems to know all about it. Talk to him yourself.'
The two conferred while April swayed on her feet. I'm dying, she thought. Then, Better find the baby first.
Alfie hung up and handed her the phone without turning it off. It took her a few seconds to hit Power, flip it up, and put it away.
'What's the plan?' she asked.
Bernardino turned to a detective smoking a cigarette at his side. 'Annie Lee?'
'Okay.' April wondered where Mike was and when he planned to join her.
Now she was irritated as well as faint. Baum hadn't come back from uptown yet. Mike had hung up before she could tell him she was seriously sick. She didn't remember his cell number so she couldn't call him back. She might have beeped him if she'd thought of it, but she didn't think of it. Instead she gazed bale-fully at Alfie, who
