unlocked.
I remembered coming there with Teddy and marveling at how clean and polished everything was.
Nothing had changed. The brass hand railings and doorknobs were dazzling and the wood looked
oiled and elegant. There was about the place, as there is with most old buildings, that kind of musky
odour that comes with age and care.
Donleavy?s office occupied most of one corner of the third floor, overlooking both park and river. He
was wearing his dark blue mourning suit but had taken off the jacket and was in his shirtsleeves. The
air conditioning was off and he had the office windows open; although the rain had stopped and the
sun had peeked out before dropping to the horizon, it was still warm and muggy in the office. His
smile was sad but sincere and his handshake was so vigorous it was almost painful.
That was quick” was his greeting. “Sorry it?s so hot in here. The air conditioning?s been off all day.”
I told him I could live with it and peeled my jacket off too.
“I?ll just put on the answering machine so we won?t be disturbed,” he said.
“Would you mind leaving the line open?” I said. “I don?t have my beeper with me. I had to leave this
number.”
“No problem,” he said amiably.
From his window I could see the park below. A small group of people clustered around the spot where
Harry Raines was shot and a couple of pretty girls sat on one of the park benches, giggling and
knocking shoulders. The river sparkled brightly in the dying sun.
On the other side of the park was the darkened Seacoast National Bank. It reminded me of DeeDee
Lukatis, her own grief all but forgotten in the wake of Harry Raines? death, and the bitter irony that
linked Doe and DeeDee with death. Altogether, a sad view on this particular day.
“The last twenty-four hours have been insane,” Donleavy said with a sigh.
“Yeah,” I said, watching George Baker appear over the side of the pier, pull off his face mask, and
start talking to Stick. “It?s been one thing after another.”
He followed my gaze down to the waterfront.
“I hear they?ve been diving down there all day,” he said.
“We?re looking for the gun that killed Harry Raines.”
“What makes you think it?s in the river?” he asked.
“Logic,” I said.
“Logic?”
“Sometimes it?s all we have to go on. A young couple was nearby and heard the shot. She screamed. I
figure the killer ran in the opposite direction, toward the river. Not knowing who else might be nearby
