over his head and crossed Rush Street Lightning cracked. Thunder roared and Harvey's heart pounded as he put on his leather gloves as he moved and felt die crowbar bounce against his thigh through the raincoat.
Cabs and cars, their lights on, swished along the road along the west side of Lincoln Park near the zoo. Harvey hurried along, head covered, face in the shadow of his hood.
He could see the zoo barn up ahead, down the slope, through the trees. He could hear the cows inside mooing at the storm, could already smell the animals as he approached.
To his left toward Goethe Street just beyond the empty playground was a patch of bushes, not as thick as he had remembered, but they would have to do. Walking along the slope and partly covered by the trees, Harvey eased out the crowbar and carefully wiped it under his raincoat. His leather gloves squeaked against the iron. Rain clapped loudly off the leaves and the top of the barn.
Harvey moved at an angle to the open barn door toward the children's zoo and glanced back. There was someone in there. Just one person. He had been afraid that a family might have taken refuge from the rain, but the rain had been coming down hard most of the afternoon and anyone who had been trapped by it had taken their chances by now.
Harvey looked around quickly and hurried to the open barn door. George Patniks stood at the end of the short corridor of cow and horse pens. He stepped away from the nearest pen and put his hands in his pockets.
'Rozier?' he asked.
Rozier, a slick, dark green hooded specter, glided forward toward the obviously frightened man.
George took a step back. A horse kicked the ground nervously and the cows mooed madly.
'I've got the money,' Harvey said softly.
'You won't hear from me again,' said George. 'I promise. This isn't the start of blackmail or anything. I just need enough to get away.'
'You won't come back and you won't talk?' asked Rozier sincerely.
'What have I got to talk about?' George said.
'About what you saw in my kitchen.'
'I'm willing to forget you killed her,' George said.
'I don't know, George,' Rozier said, moving another step toward the thief. 'You saw me commit murder. Who knows what you might try to bargain for if you get picked up one night when you break into a house?'
'I wouldn't do that,' George said, taking his hands from his pockets. 'Why would I? How could I explain my not telling anyone before? I'd be an accessory. I swear. You're safe.'
'I believe you,' said Rozier with a sigh. 'You can't blame me for being a little edgy.'
'No,' said George. 'Look, how about you give me the money and the toolbox and I'm gone?'
'They're in the trunk of my car. Out on the street. You'll have to get a little wet, but the compensation is worth it.'
'The trunk of your car?' asked George suspiciously. 'I think maybe I'd rather just stay here and you go get it.'
'Someone might walk in,' said Rozier.
'I'll take the chance. Someone comes and we move somewhere else and make the deal.'
'I don't think I want to take the chance, George,' Rozier said, moving toward George.
Harvey was sure he was close enough to catch the thief if he turned and tried to run. He fingered the crowbar in his pocket through his tight glove and decided to move quickly, strike hard, be sure the thief was dead, drop the crowbar, rifle the man's pockets, and run into the rain. Worst case? Someone would see a man in a raincoat and hood running away from the zoo. The raincoat would go in the nearest trash bin and Harvey would walk to Rush Street and catch a cab before anyone had time to report the murder, even if they had witnessed it.
'Don't do this, Mr. Rozier,' George pleaded, seeing the crowbar come out of Rozier's pocket.
The cows were bellowing now, and both horses were scraping their hooves against the cement under the hay in their pens.
'No choice, George,' he said, ready to leap as George's eyes darted around the barn looking for somewhere to jump.
Rozier stepped forward, crowbar over his head, as George tried to cover himself.
'He's gonna kill me,' George screamed as a voice from the doorway called, 'Harvey.'
Harvey Rozier turned. Lieberman stood in the doorway, his hands in his coat pocket.
'You think you for Chrissake waited long enough?' George wept, his back pressed against the wooden wall, his breath coming in short spurts.
Rozier turned to George Patniks. Behind the thief in the only other entrance to the building stood Hanrahan and a uniformed cop in a slicker.
'This man killed Dana,' Rozier said, pointing at Patniks. 'He called me, said he wanted to turn himself in. I went crazy. I decided to come here and kill him.'
'Drop the crowbar and we'll go someplace warm and dry and talk about it,' said Lieberman.
Rozier turned to face the detective.
The animals were in a panic now.
'Believe me, Lieberman,' Rozier said, pulling down his hood to show a sincere, grief-stricken face.
'We heard you talking to Mr. Patniks,' Hanrahan said.
Rozier turned to face him. The policemen were moving toward him.
'Heard every word,' said Lieberman.
'I didn't recognize him in the lineup because he changed the color of his hair,' said Rozier. 'His hair was red when he came to my door and he had a mustache.'
'And you never let him in and you never hid his toolbox?' asked Hanrahan. 'And you just confessed to murdering your wife to trap him?'
'Yes,' said Rozier. 'Yes.'
'Well, we'll play the tape back,' said Lieberman over the bellowing of the animals, 'but I don't think anyone's going to believe it. Officer, read Mr. Rozier his rights and we'll take him somewhere where he can see some of George's artwork. I think one painting will be particularly interesting to you.'
As Hanrahan moved forward past George Patniks, the patrolman began to read Rozier his rights. Harvey could see the man's mouth moving but the cacophony of animal sounds and battering rain drowned him into vague sounds.
'I want my lawyer,' said Rozier indignantly.
'No problem,' said Lieberman, now only a few yards away. 'You can call Mr. Franklin before we start talking at the station. We'll give him our evidence and have him listen to the tape and then we'll leave you alone to decide on your legal action. Unless you've got more to say before you talk to Mr. Franklin, all we have to add is that you are under arrest for the murder of Dana Louise Roberts Rozier.'
Rozier started to raise the crowbar and took a step toward Lieberman. Lieberman took his hand out of his pocket and aimed his weapon at Rozier's stomach.
'It's noisy in here,' Lieberman said loudly. 'Just drop the crowbar now and we'll go somewhere quiet.'
Rozier dropped the crowbar. The clank of iron against cement startled the animals into silence.
Evening Tides
Simon, the Franklins' favorite waiter in the dining room of the Winnetka Harbor Club, saw Ken coming and hurried to usher him to the table where his wife was waiting.
Ken Franklin was late.
At their usual table near the window overlooking the lake, Betty sat playing with a drink, probably Scotch and whatever she could think of. Her eyes were unfocused, staring into the darkness coming over the horizon.
'Sorry I'm late,' Ken said as Simon held the chair out for him and he sat.
The crowd was light for a Friday night but it was still on the early side. A few tables away the Pines were already into their soup and beyond them Marjorie and Thomas Benson were entertaining an old woman Ken did not recognize.
