Tracking Time

'Uh-huh.' Mike was getting the picture. Was this glob on the grass in front of them a cop story, or what?

'You know, after the Rat started training the dogs out on Hart Island, many a promotion was lost. A funny thing happened when he hunted with the dogs, often a body would turn up in an area that was supposed to have previously been searched.'

'Oh yeah?' Now Mike was interested. It just happened that yesterday this area had been previously searched.

'Uh-huh. The brass at One PP always applauded Rat's work big time, but never knew why he did such a good job.' John put his Yankee hat back on. 'He used to collect the stuff in jars.'

'Jesus, you still do that?' Mike said with a smile because Zumech was clearly the Rat of his story.

'Nah, we don't need to do that anymore. These days you can get any scent you want mail order. Verisimilitude doesn't matter one whit to the dogs.'

From a distance came the sound of a chopper. The whole west side of the park was being treated like a huge crime scene. Someone must have thought it was a good idea to bring in a bird. For sure all the activity wasn't because of the homicide of a homeless man. EMS and Crime Scene units were appearing on the scene in minutes. Brass from downtown and numerous precincts uptown were beginning their ritual drop-ins. Interest in the operation was growing like marijuana under grow lights.

When Mike left with Zumech, the separate areas of Peachy's 'finds' were being roped off with yellow tape and a criminalist was drawing a map of their locations. No expense was being spared. Because of a number of high-profile police brutality cases in the last year, the department was having major trouble with its image. Morale on the street was low and the PC was on the line. Not only that, it was an election year. The mayor wanted to be governor. It looked like any possibility of killings in Central Park was a first-rate opportunity for a publicity blitz.

Zumech snorted, 'Jesus, a bird.' Then he dropped his zinger. 'My guess is someone from 'Nam is involved in this.'

'Yeah, you're right, the victim.'

'No kidding!' Zumech looked surprised. 'How do you know that?'

'I knew him.' Mike's hair blew all over the place as the bird hovered over them, then moved off to a safe distance and slowly descended to the grass.

Forty-three

Okay. Go ahead, do it.' Brandy lay back on the sofa in her father's apartment. It was midmorning. She was pissed at her mother and certainly hadn't gone to school as she'd promised. Nor had David. Neither of them had even considered it. They'd planned to smoke her dad's pot and enjoy the show.

'Just like that? Don't you want to see them bring him out?' David was shocked by her changing the subject so quickly. He was excited about the killing. He wanted to talk about it and think about it for a while. He hadn't expected such a high feeling and didn't want to lose it.

The heehawing of the ambulance was getting louder. Soon the news of a dead man in Central Park would be everywhere, and the TV vans with the dishes on top would be back on Central Park West. The TV crews would be out again, and there would be plenty to watch. In a few hours they'd be able to see it all over again on the news. He'd thought the whole purpose was to see it on the news, tape it all, and watch it again and again for the power it gave them over the whole city.

'They found him,' Brandy said with a little shrug, as if it didn't matter to her now. 'We can take a break for a while.'

She wiggled her bottom and smiled her cute little smile, neither of which had David ever been able to resist. 'Too bad you don't have your laptop. We could look at those cute pictures again,' she said.

'You really liked that, didn't you?' he said without enthusiasm. He wanted more appreciation for ridding the earth of a piece of scum. The drunken bum had attacked her last night. He'd saved her life. He was a hero. She should be more interested in that than porno.

'What's the matter? I thought you wanted to fuck,' she said.

'Sure I do.' David frowned. The truth was he wasn't sure he actually did want to right now. This lack of interest made him wonder if he was gay. He felt a little funny to say the least. Maybe something was wrong with his meds. Maybe the Ritalin was making him gay. Or it could be he just wasn't in the mood. He was still rattled by his mother and father yelling at each other about him again. So early in the morning and so loud they woke him up. He hated that.

He also hated being in Brandy's father's place. He didn't want to get caught there with his pants down. Who knew if the maid came on Thursdays or not. Brandy had lied about that kind of thing before. Once she'd said the maid didn't come until noon and the maid showed up at ten-thirty. David didn't entirely trust her. And then there was the sex thing. Each time he thought the tests were over, she came up with something new for him to do to prove he really loved her. And now he'd really done something important, and she didn't seem to care.

'What's the matter, David?'

'You know, you'd be history right now without me. Did you see me take that guy down? I was amazing. How about that ride, too? I bet you never thought I'd remember the way.'

'Daaavid, come over here.'

'Aren't I a great driver? I've got the whole city freaking. I make people disappear. Two people, for Christ's sake! And I take down the enemy. I'm the king. Say it.'

He was sitting in an armchair by the sofa and felt like a king. 'I'm the master,' he announced.

'Daaavid. It was my idea.'

'You can't make people disappear. Only I can do that. Admit it.' He laughed, thinking of the disappeared and dead. He'd set out to do one, but he'd gotten three people in just two days. This was way more sophisticated than shooting someone from a window. This was exerting his power over the whole city. And his parents were stupid. They were completely unstable…

'Come on, David, let's do it.'

He didn't look at her, didn't want a repeat of yesterday. The truth was he didn't think he could do it. When he saw people having sex on the Internet or the pay-per-view videos his parents didn't know he watched, it looked like going into butter. That's how he thought of it. He thought sex was kind of like coming to a gate, the gate opening, and his going through it. But every time he tried with Brandy there was, like, this wall down there. A brick wall. They'd be fooling around, and he'd kind of try to get into her and it was like hitting a brick wall. And then she'd change her mind. He was feeling good. He wasn't in the mood to hit a brick wall right now.

Weeks ago, after camp was over and they were bored waiting for school to start, Brandy had come up with this idea about killing someone. They'd been high, and they wondered if they could kill someone and get away with it. He'd thought about it in the same kind of way he thought about parachuting from an airplane and skiing down a mountain where no one had ever been before. He'd heard of people getting to a ski slope like that. Really cool. He'd asked Dr. Clog a whole bunch of questions about killing. Had he been in the army? Had he ever killed anyone? What did it feel like to kill someone? If you killed someone in war, were you sorry afterward? He needed some information on the subject.

Every question he asked, the psychiatrist answered, 'You must have a reason for asking me this.'

'Just wondering,' David had told him. 'You know.'

'Why don't you tell me your thoughts about school. This is a very important year for you. You're a junior now. How is that studying for the SATs going? Aren't you preparing for a pretest next week? You want to do well, don't you?'

Clog proved once again he was a fool with no real interest in David at all. The man was just an employee of his parents with a job to torture him just like they did. Four hour pretest! That's all he could talk about. It was a fucking disaster. The SATs weren't until October. Why did they have to bug him about this in August?

Brandy hiked up her sweater so he could see her stomach and breasts. 'Come on, David.'

At the sight of her tits David felt some stirring down below. What the hell. He pulled himself out of the chair and moved over to the sofa. The sound of the sirens were going as Brandy made room for him, unzipped his pants.