and heard the clatter of taps on metal stairs. The fat man was already halfway down.
Parker ran back into the apartment, switching on lights as he went. The girl was slowly and groggily getting to her feet. Her robe was disarranged, and beneath it she was fully dressed except for shoes. Parker ran past her to the first window he found, in the kitchen, but it faced the rear of the building. So did the bedroom window. No window faced the courtyard.
Parker came back to the living-room. The girl was on her feet but weaving, moving at a snail’s pace towards the door. Parker came after her, grabbed her by a shoulder, flung her back into the living-room. The chain attachment on the front door was broken but the bolt still worked. Parker shot it, and went back to the living- room.
The girl was no more than half-conscious. She’d been battered once too often in the last five minutes. She was standing in the middle of the room, frowning and squinting as though not sure what was going on. Parker took hold of her arm and steered her into the kitchen. She moved with no complaint, repeating under her breath, “Mr Menlo? Mr Menlo?”
Parker sat her on a kitchen chair and slapped her face to get her attention. “Where have they got Pete Castle?”
She frowned up at him, and then rationality came back to her and her face hardened. “You can just go to hell.”
Parker shook his head in irritation. He hated this kind of thing, hurting people to make them talk. It was messy and time-consuming and there ought to be a better way. But there wasn’t.
He found twine in a kitchen drawer, and tied her to the chair, and gagged her. She fought it, but not successfully. He left her right hand free and put paper and pencil on the table.
“Write the address when you’re ready,” he said. Then he reached for the kitchen matches.
3
THERE WAS a delivery truck out front, a small, dark panel truck with the name KELSON FURNITURE on the sides. It was way after one o’clock, but two men in white coveralls were carrying a rolled-up rug out of the dark bungalow.
This was in Cheverly, off Landover Road. Parker crouched in the back seat of the cab, watching them through the windshield. They were half a block ahead, and on the other side of the street. Just the two men in white coveralls and the rolled-up rug. No fat man.
Parker said, “Douse your lights.”
It was a lady cab-driver, a small, middle-aged coloured woman with a wild red hat. She glared over her shoulder at him. “What was that?”
Parker found a twenty and shoved it at her, wishing he had the Pontiac. But Handy had taken that with him. Parker said, “I want you to put out your lights. Then follow that delivery truck over there when it takes off.”
She now looked baffled, but just as suspicious. “Is this some kind of gag, mister?”
“No gag.”
“We’re not supposed to do nothing like that.”
“Just take the twenty.”
“How I know you ain’t a cop? Or a inspector or something?”
“Do I look like a cop?”
“Some cops, yeah.”
“All right,” Parker said. “We’ll do it the hard way.” He dropped the twenty in her lap and showed her the Terrier.
The gun she could understand. She doused the lights. “If you got robbery or rapery on your mind, big man,” she said, “you just forget it.”
“All you do is follow that delivery truck. Get ready now.”
“Sure. They got a body in that rug.” She thought she was being scornful.
“That’s right,” Parker answered.
“Huh?”
The delivery truck started away from the kerb. Parker said, “Give them a block. Keep the lights off till I say so. You can see by the street lights.”
“If I get stopped by a cop “
“Don’t worry about it.”
The cab, with its headlights off, trailed the tail-lights of the delivery truck out to Landover Road, where the truck turned back towards the city. As soon as it had made the turn and was out of sight, Parker said, “Put your lights on now.”
The truck barrelled along ahead of them, and didn’t seem aware it was being followed. There was no circling of blocks, or speeding up and slowing down, to check for a possible tail. The truck just ran on over to Bladensburg Road and down into the city. In the Trinidad section it made a right turn. Parker said, “Keep back a block and a half unless they turn.”
Ahead, the truck turned in at a driveway. This was a commercial section, shut down tight. Parker said, “Turn at the corner here. Don’t go past where they turned in. Now go half a block and stop.”
He had another twenty ready when the cab stopped. He tossed it to her. “This one’s to forget to call the cops.”
