Sandy Saddler would ring my chimes for me, and I'd go home and in a few days I'd start training again.'
'That woman didn't seem to have the killer instinct about training,' I said.
'Half the people who come in here are like that. They want to feel great and look great and not pop a sweat. That woman was bad. But the worst are the guys who always thought jocks were vulgar, you know? And then they get a physical and the doctor says they need exercise. So they come down here wearing black socks and white tennis shoes and say things like'this machine is rather intimidating,' and you got to practically put their fucking hands on the handles for them. They don't come down and scope things out a little. They don't look at the machine and notice there's probably only one way it can work. They don't watch other people work out for a few minutes and see how they do it. They come in and get on the fucking equipment upside down and flap their fucking arms like a fucking cocka doodle fucking do until you go over and say, 'Perhaps it would work better if you did it this way.'
'
I was dressed by the time Henry got through and was buttoning up my shirt.
'Feel better?' I said.
Henry grinned. 'On the other hand, I haven't had any stitches in my lip lately.'
'Good point,' I said.
It was a very fine spring day as I walked back to my office, across the Common. I was wearing chinos and white Reeboks and my leather jacket and a white shirt with a wide lavender stripe, which was as daring as I got. I felt strong and clean, like I always did after I worked out; and this evening, before dinner, two beers would taste exactly the way they should.
Be nice to know why the Red Rose killer had threatened me.
I was in Quirk's office at 9:40 on a Thursday morning, trying to figure out why Red Rose had threatened me.
'Maybe it's a variation on 'Catch me before I do it again.'
' Quirk said. 'Maybe sort of a challenge to get us working harder.'
'You heard the tape,' I said. 'Is that what it sounds like to you?'
'No,' Quirk said. 'It sounds like he feels hostile toward you.'
Quirk had his coat off and hanging neatly on a hanger from his coat rack. His cuffs were turned back on his white shirt. He was wearing a pink silk tie at half-mast and his starched collar was open. As he talked he leaned back in his swivel chair and locked his hands behind his head. His biceps swelled against the sleeves of his shirt.
'Why would he be hostile toward you?' Quirk said.
'Why would anyone?' I said.
Quirk grunted.
'Maybe he knows you,' he said.
'And doesn't like me,' I said.
'Hard as it is to believe,' Quirk said.
'Well,' I said, 'the man is a psychopath.'
'Cops who know and dislike you are not as scarce as hen's teeth,' Quirk said.
'Course maybe he's not a cop and maybe he doesn't know me and maybe something else is going on,' I said. 'Susan keeps reminding me that we're not dealing with two plus two here.'
A uniformed desk cop came and knocked on Quirk's glass door. Quirk nodded and the cop opened it and said, 'Superintendent Clancy, Lieutenant, with some people.' Quirk nodded again and the cop went away, leaving the door ajar.
'Deputy Superintendent,' Quirk said. 'Community Relations. It'll be a group of citizens urging me to catch Red Rose.'
I started to get up. Quirk shook his head. 'Stick around,' he said.
'Remind you of why you quit the cops.'
I sat back down.
Clancy came in with four people, two blacks, two whites. One of the whites was a woman. Clancy was a small, neat man with a face like a mole. He wore a white shirt with epaulets and a blue cap with gold braid. His shield was polished and shiny on his shirt, and he wore the short handgun high on his belt that headquarters types considered status. His trousers were creased, and his shoes gleamed with a spray-can shine. 'Reverend Trenton,' Clancy said, introducing one of the black men. 'Representative Rashad,' he said, 'and Mr. Tuttle from the Christian United Action Committee, and Ms. Quince from the Friends of Liberty.' Quirk said, 'How do you do,' and all of them except Quirk looked at me. Quirk ignored it.
'What can I do for you?' Quirk said.
Rashad, the state representative, said, 'Commissioner Wilson said you were the one to brief us on this series of racial murders plaguing the community.'
'Last year,' Quirk said, 'thirty-six black people were killed in this city. Nobody came around for a briefing. Nobody called them racial murders.'
'Don't be evasive, Lieutenant,' Rashad said. 'We wish to know the progress you're making on this grisly
