Koko

her that a certain person was in New York? I don’t think I did that, Michael. I’m pretty sure Conor didn’t do it. Somebody compromised our mission, Michael, and I’m afraid it’s you.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way about it.”

“I’m sorry you did what you did.” Beevers drew in another long breath. “I don’t suppose you even remember all the things I’ve done for you and this mission. I’ve done nothing but give, give, give all the way through this thing, Michael. I was court-martialed for you, Michael, I sat in a Quonset hut and waited for a verdict, I hope you never have to go through that—”

“I have something to tell you,” Poole broke in.

“I guess I better brace myself.”

Michael told him about the incident in the cemetery.

“You had an unconfirmed sighting? I suppose you’d better tell me everything.”

“I just did.”

“Okay, we’re into endgame. That’s all that means. He saw my stuff. Everything is working. I hope you did not call Murphy with this information.”

“I didn’t,” Poole said, not telling Beevers that he intended to mail the card to the policeman.

“I suppose I ought to be grateful for small favors,” Beevers said. “Give me the name and number of your hotel. If he’s at the stage of following us around and leaving notes, things are going to pop pretty soon. I might have to get in touch with you.”

Poole read in the little apartment for an hour or two, but felt so unsettled that he kept losing himself in the long sentences. At seven he realized that he had grown very hungry, and went out to eat. On the street he saw his car parked before the ice cream shop and remembered that Robbie’s Babar books were still in the trunk. He promised himself that he would remember to bring them up into the apartment after he had eaten.

8

He ate dinner in a little Italian restaurant and again immersed himself in The Ambassadors. The next day, he told himself, he would fly off into Koko’s childhood. He felt poised on the brink of some great change, but ready for it. The Health and Hospitals Corporation of New York gave fifty- thousand-dollar grants to doctors to set up storefront offices in places where people needed medical care, and after that loaned you money at the prime rate which you did not have to start repaying for two years. Two, three, four more days at the most, Poole thought; then he could finally get off the bridge and go into the places where he was needed. His whole body warmed.

9

When Poole got back to Conor’s apartment he turned on all the lights and sat down on a kitchen chair to read until he could go to bed. A feeling of unfinished business nagged at him until he remembered the Babar books and nearly decided to put on his coat and fetch them from the car. He stood up, walked past the telephone, and remembered something else.

He had never called the stewardess who had known Clement W. Irwin, Koko’s first American victim. Poole was surprised that he had remembered the man’s name.

But what was the name of the stewardess? He tried to remember the name of their own stewardess. Her name had been something like his. Mikey. Marsha. Michaela, Minnie, Mona. No—it had reminded him of an Alfred Hitchcock movie. Grace Kelly. A blonde … Tippi Hedren, the actress who had been in The Birds. Then he remembered the name as easily as if the name tag was still in front of him: Marnie. And Marnie’s friend had been named … Lisa. He groped for her last name. How could he have been stupid enough not to write it down. What’s your friend’s last name, he had asked her. “———–,” she had said. Something about Ireland. Lisa Dublin. Lisa Galway. That was close. Lisa Ulster. Like in Hellman’s, Marnie had said. Lisa Mayo.

Poole rushed to the phone and dialed information in New York City. She would not have a listed number, of course, nothing was that easy, and he would have to work out a way to get a stewardess’s telephone number from the airline that employed her. He asked for the listing, and the line went silent with an electronic clunk. That’s it, Poole thought, no listing, but a robot’s voice immediately came on the line, saying “The number you have requested is” and gave him seven digits, then repeated them.

Poole dialed, hoping it was the same Lisa Mayo. If it was, she was probably thirty thousand feet in the air, on her way back to San Francisco.

The telephone rang four, five times, and was picked up a second before Poole hung up.

A young woman said, “Yes.”

“My name is Dr. Michael Poole, and I am looking for the Lisa Mayo who is a friend of Marnie’s.”

“Marnie Richardson! Where did you meet her?”

“In an airplane coming back from Bangkok.”

“Marnie’s pretty wild. Uh, I gave up doing a lot of stuff when I moved out of San Francisco. It’s nice of you to call, but—”

“Excuse me,” Poole said. “I think you have the wrong idea. I’m calling about the man who was killed at JFK about three weeks ago, and Miss Richardson said that you knew him.”

“You’re calling about Mr. Irwin?”

“In part,” Poole said. “You did see him on the flight just before he was killed?”

“You bet I did. I saw him maybe a dozen times a year. He went back and forth to San Francisco almost as often as I do.” She hesitated. “I was shocked when I read about what happened to him, but I can’t say I was real sorry. He wasn’t a very nice man. Oh, I shouldn’t have said that. Mr. Irwin wasn’t popular with any of the crews, that’s all, he was a very demanding man. But what business is it of yours, anyway? Did you know Mr. Irwin?”

“I am primarily interested in the man who sat beside Mr. Irwin on the flight to New York. I wondered if you could remember anything about him.”

“Him? This is very mysterious. Besides, it’s getting late and I have an early call tomorrow. Are you a cop?”

The implications of that “him?” put goose bumps on Poole’s arms. “No, I’m a doctor, but I do have some connection with the police investigation of Mr. Irwin’s murder.”

“ ‘Some’ connection?”

“I’m sorry it’s so vague.”

“Well, if you think that guy who sat next to Mr. Irwin had anything to do with it, you’re really barking up the wrong tree.”

“Why?”

“Because he couldn’t have had anything to do with it. He couldn’t. I see a lot of people in the work I do, and that guy was one of the nicest, shyest … I felt sorry for him, having to sit next to the Beast. That’s what we called Mr. Irwin. Well, come to think of it, he even sort of charmed the Beast—he got Mr. Irwin to talk to him, and he got him to make a bet on something or other.”

“Do you remember his name?”

“It was some kind of Spanish name—Gomez, maybe? Cortez?”

There you are, Poole thought, and drew in a sharp breath.

“What?”

“Does Ortiz sound right? Roberto Ortiz?”

She laughed. “How did you know that? That’s right—and he said to call him Bobby. Bobby seemed just right, you know, he was just like a Bobby.”

“Is there anything specific you can remember about him? Anything he said, or talked about, or anything in particular?”

“It’s funny—when I look back on him, all I get is this blur with a smile in the middle of it. The whole crew liked him, I remember. But as for anything he said … wait … wait.”

“Yes?” Poole asked.

“I can remember something funny he did. He kind of sang. I mean, he didn’t sing a song, you know, a song with words, but he sang this kind of weird little thing.”