a puking cat. Desdemona had changed her mind and wanted them gone, but Prunella scorned such intolerance. In two or three days the worst would be over; the Delmonicos would wonder how they had ever gotten on without Frankie and Winston, said Prunella staunchly, then called the carpenter to make an animal flap in the back door. Maybe, thought Carmine with a faint ray of hope, Frankie and Winston would run away and his household could go back to normal. The worst of it was that he had been appointed cleaner-upper of cat vomit.
When Robert and Gordon Warburton discovered that Amanda’s estate, even minus the glass teddy bear, was worth in excess of two million dollars, they were ecstatic. It didn’t hurt nearly as much when their lawyer, a sharp fellow, informed them that they could forget challenging Chubb for ownership of this museum piece that only Chubb could afford to house.
“Where shall we live, dear one?” Gordie asked his brother. “Here, or in that divine apartment?”
“Oh, here, beyond a shadow of a doubt,” Robbie said. “I’d hate not having a garden, and while we’ve improved this so much it would sell for a hundred thou, the apartment will sell at auction for ten times that. Cash in the bank! We need cash in the bank! If we sell the apartment, we can keep Amanda’s blue chip stocks, yet still have plenty of ready money to splash around. Our plans are forging ahead-who was to know that Amanda would contribute so much in death? We hoped for a donation, but-oh, it’s a wonderful, wonderful world!”
“Death has always done well by us, sweetest,” Gordie said, smiling. “Look at Mommy.”
“Thank you, I do not want to look at Mommy!”
“I’m fed up with drawing and painting!” Gordie said suddenly.
Robbie hastened to offer comfort. “There, there, twinnie my love, I know. Just remember that you’re the rock on which our enterprise stands. Do you want to leave no more durable epitaph on our tombstone than ‘
“No,” Gordie admitted, but grudgingly. “On the other hand, I am fed up with drawing and painting!”
“Oh, saints preserve me!” Robbie cried. He sat down beside Gordon and took his hands, chafing them. “Listen, my darling one, we can’t move on to the next phase until you’ve finished. I was not exaggerating, it’s your work will get us there, and it has to impress Captain Delmonico! How can it, if you won’t finish?”
“He refused to show us the photographs of Amanda with her throat cut,” Gordie said sulkily.
“I couldn’t push too hard, you know that! We
“Would-be-if-we-could-bes,” Gordie said helpfully.
“I do not need more synonyms!” Robert snapped. “Think of being immortal, Gordie! Of taking reality to a new height!”
“Reality,” said Gordie, “can always be improved on.”
The atmosphere in Carmine’s office on Monday, November 25, grew more anxious and tense with the arrival of each team member. By the time that Delia, the last, put her puce-pink and apple-green body on her chair, it seemed hard to breathe. They had all visited the premises over the weekend, astonished to find no Carmine; now, so close to the Dodo’s due date, he wasn’t here again!
When he did arrive at a quarter after eight he looked well, rested, even cheerful.
“You’ve had a good weekend,” Delia said accusingly.
“A very good one. The two new family members have decided to settle in,” he said, “and it’s going to work better than I’d hoped.” He sighed, smiled. “Desdemona’s come around.”
Nick stubbed out his fourth cigarette. “If we knew what you were talking about, Carmine, that would be a help.”
“Oh! I took Miss Warburton’s pets home last Thursday, and we had a minor crisis that I was afraid might turn out major. But it didn’t. The dog fell in love with Desdemona, and you know what she’s like. About as much aggression as a caterpillar. Besides, she’s English and the English adore dogs.”
Delia’s eyes were twinkling. “What happened to the cat?”
“Attached itself to the real ruler of the house-Julian.”
Nick lit up his fifth. “All well and good, Carmine, but have you forgotten that the Dodo’s due tomorrow?”
“Won’t happen,” Carmine said positively.
Three pairs of eyes stared.
“Won’t happen?” Delia repeated.
“No. He may strike next week or even the week after, but not this week.”
“How can you be so sure?” Helen asked.
“Because this week is Thanksgiving Day, and it spoils his plans. He’s escalating, and there’s only one way he can go-to a longer, more complex process. That means choosing a victim who won’t be missed for three or four days,” Carmine said.
“Of course!” Nick exclaimed. “Even the most solitary person is invited to someone’s Thanksgiving dinner.”
“There’s that, yes, but he himself will be expected to eat Thanksgiving at someone’s table.”
Delia jumped. “You know who he is!”
“I think so, yes.”
“Tell us!” Helen cried.
“I can’t do that, Helen. I have no evidence-not a shred. Until I do, his identity has to remain my secret.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“No,” said Delia, answering when it became obvious that the Captain wouldn’t. “It’s ethics, Helen. What if word should get out? All observation changes events, but if the Dodo has an inkling that his identity is known, the game changes in all sorts of ways. What the Captain knows as fact is still merely suspicion if there’s no evidence to back his contention up.”
“I wouldn’t tell a soul!”
“Of course you wouldn’t. But this is a relatively public place, dear.”
“End of subject,” said Carmine, picking up a sheet of paper. “The Hollow is starting to boil worse than Argyle Avenue, and no one wants a repeat of last summer. We’re not going to have snow before Thanksgiving Day, which means we have to plan for a warm, green winter. Arson and looting can’t be allowed to happen, it’s too hard on the majority of ghetto residents. Captain Vasquez has asked for two-pronged preventive measures and Commissioner Silvestri thinks his ideas are right.” The amber eyes rested on Nick Jefferson. “The uniforms are not going to get much rest-they have to be ready for riot duty in literal minutes. The role of Detectives is to dig for information, which means Mohammed el Nesr and the Black Brigade. Without information, we won’t be able to nip riot nuclei in the bud. Abe Goldberg’s in charge of our contribution, but you, Nick, are going to have special duties. Abe feels you can be disguised-provided, that is, that you’re willing to take on something so risky.”
“I’m willing,” Nick said, looking eager.
“You have a family, and you owe them a duty too.”
“If it hadn’t been for luck and one itty-bitty fire extinguisher, Carmine, my mother and father would have lost their house last July, and again in August, when they had six fire extinguishers. My uncle’s shop was looted. My wife and children won’t stand in my way. I’m up for it.”
“Captain Vasquez has brought in this movie make-up artist-not all his uniforms are staying out in the open with riot gear, but they’re not trained in detection. So a lot rests on you, Nick. This make-up guy swears he can make you look six inches shorter and twenty years older. Go see Abe, okay?”
On the echo of Carmine’s last words, Nick was gone.
“I wish I could do something like that,” said Delia, clearly regretting both her sex and her color.
“How would you like to join the whores behind City Hall? The pimps are black, so are most of their girls. Information, Delia, as much as you can glean. Whores and pimps talk, and I’ve heard your various American accents. Go mulatto, your skin will take that, and your hair color’s perfect.”
“I need a pimp,” said Delia, wriggling in anticipation.
“One of the new academy graduates is black, fortyish and has a perfect face for disguise. Jimmy the Pooch.”
And Delia was gone.
“What about me?” Helen asked, voice steely.
