Holland turned away from the ambulance, and Hatch and one of the paramedics jumped down. The paramedic shut the doors and trotted up to the driver's seat.
'By the way,' Piney whispered, “It wasn't you, was it?'
'Me?' I thought he was talking about Earl Sawyer and the Cobden Building. “I just got here.'
'That deal Friday night.'
'No,' I said. “It wasn't me.'
Piney patted my arm. The ambulance pulled out into Commercial Avenue. Stewart Hatch began jabbing his index finger into Frank Holland's chest.
Bruce McMicken said, 'Adios, amigos,' and vanished through the diminishing crowd.
I saw Lieutenant Rowley take in my presence. He bent toward Mullan. None too happily, Mullan looked at me. I nodded.
Stewart Hatch gave a dismissive glance at the onlookers. 'Go home,' he called out. 'The show's over.' His eyes stopped when they came to me.
Stoppedis not quite the word. When Stewart Hatch's eyes met mine, they widened with a kind of shock of recognition that immediately gave way to what looked like loathing.
He had us followed,I thought.
'Don't expect no Christmas cards,' Piney said.
Hatch's thick, already suntanned legs propelled him before Rowley and Mullan. Looking as though some portion of him were continuing to churn forward, he rammed his fists into the pockets of his shorts and tilted his head to Rowley's ear.
Rowley found me with his dead face and dead eyes. Hatch churned into the Cobden Building with his security director scuttling behind him.
Rowley looked as happy as someone like Rowley can get. He no longer had to pretend to be my best friend. Piney had disappeared. The few people near me melted away as Rowley moved up onto my side of the street, planted himself in front of me, and exhaled recycled cigarette smoke.
'Nice seeing you again, Lieutenant,' I said.
Rowley looked from side to side. His corpse's face swung back to me, and the creases dividing his cheeks filled with shadows. 'You're even dumber than I thought. What is your problem, Dunstan?'
“I couldn't sleep,' I said. “I went out for a walk and saw all the excitement.'
He stepped forward, forcing me back. 'The bus station is on Grace
Street, three Mocks down fromTown Square. That's one choice. Or, stick around and have us drop in tomorrow morning.'
'Did Hatch tell you to say that, Lieutenant?'
Rowley hit me in the stomach, hard. All the air went out of me, and I staggered backward. He clipped the side of my head with a jab that spun me onto the grass. I rolled away, fighting for breath. Rowley skipped up and kicked me under my ribs. He squatted and thumped my head. 'Help me out here. You were saying something?'
I managed to drag in a breath. “I'm beginning to get your point.'
The cops on the other side of the street had turned their backs.
Rowley stood up and took a step back.
'One thing,' I said.
He placed his hands on his knees and bent toward me. His face was a black, featureless pane.
I took another breath. 'When I opened that package, I thought we had an arrangement.'
'An arrangement.'
“I thought a hundred bucks would keep me from getting kicked in the side.'
Rowley snapped to his feet and walked away.
•When I put my key in the front door the back of my neck tingled, and I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to find Rowley summoning me into the back of a patrol car. All I saw was Frenchy La Chapelle twitching up Chester Street. Frenchy checked the number on an apartment building, then glanced at me. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, wandered to the curb, and looked down the street as if waiting for a ride. After another glance in my direction, he shifted into his usual sidewalk boogaloo and slid around a corner into Hatchtown.
•64
•At 10:00a.m. on Sunday morning, there was a rap on my door while I was trying to persuade Laurie Hatch to drive Posy Fairbrother into town to retrieve the Mercedes. “I have a visitor,' I said.
'Get rid of herand come to my house. I'll give you a tremendous brunch.'
The knock came again, in triplicate. “I think it's a cop who doesn't like me very much.'
'Put down the phone and let him in, so I can hear what happens. Then let him know you're talking to me.'
Helen Janette's voice came through the door. 'Mr. Dunstan, if you don't open up, I'll do it myself.'
Clustered behind my landlady were Captain Mullan, Lieutenant Rowley, Officer Treuhaft, the human totem pole who had come with Rowley to Nettie's house, and, so close to Rowley that they could have held hands, Stewart Hatch. Stewart was wearing white trousers and a blue double-breasted blazer over a polo shirt with an upturned collar. All he needed was a yachting cap.
'This is the last straw, Mr. Dunstan,' said Helen Janette, and barged away.
Captain Mullan said, 'May we come in?'
'Be my guest. I'm on the phone.'
The four men pushed past me. Hatch started walking around and smirking at my surroundings, and the other three watched me sit on the bed and pick up the telephone.
“I have to hang up. Captain Mullan, Lieutenant Rowley, Officer Treuhaft, and a gentleman who appears to be Mr. Stewart Hatch just came in.'
'Stewart's there?'
Hatch turned around when he heard his name. 'Who are you talking to?'
'My attorney,' I said.
Hatch looked at Mullan. “I take that as an admission of guilt.'
'The great Roy Cohn,' I said. 'A little dead, a little moldy, but still vicious as all get-out.'
Mullan smiled, and Hatch spun around and opened my closet. 'Step back, Mr. Hatch,' Mullan said.
'Should I talk to him?' Laurie asked.
'Probably not a good idea,' I said, and put down the telephone.
“I want this man arrested for auto theft, Mullan,' Hatch said. 'This time, keep him in a cell while we work on the other charges.'
'Sit down, please, Mr. Hatch,' Mullan said, giving a disgusted look at Rowley. 'You're an interested party, not a police officer.'
'Mr. Hatch is the victim here, Captain,' said Rowley.
Mullan stared at Hatch until he dropped into the chair near the window. 'Mr. Dunstan,' Mullan said, 'do we have your permission to search your room?'
'Please do,' I said. 'But if this is about Mr. Hatch's Mercedes, you're wasting your time. It's not here.'
Treuhaft unzipped my knapsack and turned it upside down over the bed. Rowley pulled out dresser drawers and rummaged through my socks and underwear.
'Mr. Dunstan,' Mullan said, 'did you remove a Mercedes 500SL from a garage at the residence at 4825 Blueberry Lane in Ellendale between the hours of midnight and twoa.m. this morning and transport it to Harry Street, around the corner from this building?'
'Of course he did,' Hatch said.
'Of course I did,' I said. 'At the request of Mrs. Hatch.'
'Ask him what he was doing there in the first place.'
