The rain sheeted down along the window behind the tropical fish tank.
The fish seemed restless. Water and water. He sat in his usual seat.
He felt full of his need for her to know. But she'd tell. He knew she'd tell her boyfriend.
'When I was little, I was very close to my mother,' he said. She nodded.
'I could tell her anything. 'It's all right, 'she say, 'I'm your mother.''
She made a tiny rolling motion with her forefinger to encourage him on.
'I told her everything.'
She had on a brown glen plaid suit today, with a white blouse.
'I remember when I was a little kid, maybe third grade, I, ah, messed my pants.'
She nodded; no reaction, no disgust, no amusement. He could still feel the hot embarrassment of it.
'They called my mother and she came and got me and she was nice about it and said it could happen to anyone. And I got to go home with her and I asked her not to tell and she promised she wouldn't…
'One of her friends was there, and when I came downstairs from taking a bath the friend teased me about it.'
'So she had told,' she said.
He nodded. 'I…' He stopped and swallowed. He seemed unable to speak.
'You couldn't trust her,' she said.
Again he could only nod. It was like his voice was paralyzed. He could breathe okay and swallow okay, but he seemed like he couldn't talk. The silence seemed heavy. The rain chattered against the window behind her.
No fish in this room. Just the waiting room. He breathed through his mouth.
She waited.
'I never said anything,' he finally said. His voice sounded reedy and nearly detached from him.
'If you had?'
'She'd have got mad. She never admitted she was wrong.
She just got mad at me if I said anything.'
'What happened when she got mad?'
'She didn't love me.'
She nodded.
'What kind of love is that?' his voice said. 'What kind II is it when you can love me and not love me whenever you feel like it?'
She shook her head gently, and again it was quiet except for the rain.
Hawk took the day shift with Susan. Belson and I went outside with Quirk and sat in his car. Me and Quirk in front, Belson in the back seat. The rain streaked the windows, blurring everything. 'No wipers.'
I said. 'Three guys sitting in a car with the motor running and the wipers on is like putting a flashing blue light on the roof.'
'Can you see well enough to identify anyone?' Quirk said.
We were across the street and half a block up from Susan's house.
'No,' I said. 'But we're not making fine discriminations here. Any white male who looks like he could outrun me.' Quirk nodded. 'Frank,' he said, 'you want to take the first one?'
'Sure.'
We were quiet. The rain stayed with us. After ten minutes the windows started to fog and Quirk cracked the windows on the side away from Susan's office. At ten of eleven a patient came out of Susan's front door and down the steps.
'How about him?' Quirk said.
'He's the right size,' I said. The outlines of the man were blurred and soft through the wet window. 'He white?'
'If he's not,' Belson said,
'I'll drop him.' He got out of the back seat on the sidewalk side and began walking up Linnaean Street toward Garden, parallel with Susan's patient on the other side of the street.
After a moment Quirk said to me, 'Okay, he's the right color.'
'Now if Belson doesn't lose him,' I said.
'Belson won't lose him,' Quirk said. 'And the guy won't make him.'
I nodded. 'And if he gets in a car, Frank gets the number.'
