“You didn’t glance in the cab or anything?”
“No, I didn’t. I knew it was the same cab came in ten minutes before, I just opened the gate and waved him on through.”
“When did she get back, would you know?”
“Let me think a minute.”
“Take your time.”
The guard thought it over.
“I was having a cup of coffee.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Must’ve been around eleven, eleven-fifteen.”
“Yellow cab again?”
“Yeah, but a different one. The first guy was black. This guy was wearing a turban.”
“Sikh, huh?”
“No, he looked pretty healthy to me. Big guy with a turban. Probably a terrorist, don’t you think?” the guard said, and grinned.
“Probably,” Kling said. “Did you notice what she was wearing this time?”
“Well, yeah. Cause I looked in the cab to make sure it was somebody who lived here. When I saw it was Mrs. Henderson, I waved her on in.”
“So what was she wearing?”
“She was dressed casual. Jeans, some kind of jacket, a baseball cap.”
“Any letters on the cap?”
“It looked like the school cap to me. The school here? The ones the kids wear? It looked like that. Hell of a thing, ain’t it?” the guard said. “I’ll bet she went out to meet her husband. He’d been away, you know. She prob’ly went out to meet him, don’t you think?”
“I think so, yes,” Carella said.
“I THOUGHT YOU MIGHTfind this interesting,” Patricia was telling Ollie. He was eating, of course. She somewhat enjoyed watching him eat. Such gusto, she thought, and wondered if the word “gusto” had Spanish roots. “I got it from the manager at King Memorial. It’s the architect’s schematic sketch of the building. Shows what’s what and where’s where.” She spread it out on her side of the table. Without missing a beat, hands and mouth working, Ollie leaned over the table to study the drawing:
“Auditorium is here on the right of the building,” she said, “offices on the left. You’ll see that these two men’s rooms, one left, one right, have windows opening on an airshaft. Little narrow passageway runs along the back of the building. The windows were wide open when I checked them out. I figured…”
“You checked them out?”
“Yeah. Earlier today.”
“That was very enterprising of you, Patricia.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I figured it was funny, the windows wide open in rest rooms? What I did, you see, was walk the passageway from one side of the building to the other. I climbed out one window and in the other.”
He visualized her climbing out the rest room window on the left here, and walking across the back of the building and then climbing through the other rest room window on the right. And then…
“I get it,” he said. “You think that’s what our killer did. He got into this rest room…”
“The men’s room here on the left of the drawing, yes.”
“…went out the window, and ran across the back of the building to the other rest room…”
“The other men’s room, yes.”
“And then out the exit doors here, and into the alleyway.”
“Where he ditched the gun down the sewer,” Patricia said, and shrugged. “That’s what I figure happened, anyway.”
“I think you’re right,” Ollie said. “Listen, is that all you’re going to eat?”
“I’m not very hungry, really.”
“You’re not?” Ollie said, surprised. “I’m hungry all the time.”
“Maybe…” she started, and then shook her head.
“No, what?” Ollie asked.
“Maybe it gives you something to do,” she suggested, and shrugged.
“I got plenty to do,” Ollie said.
“I mean, something to…well…take your mind off whatever…problems you might have.”
“I don’t have any problems.”
“Because eating is pleasurable, you know.”
“Oh, that I know,” he said.
“Instead of fighting City Hall,” she said.
“Che si puoi fare?”he said.
“I found out how to say that in Serbian, by the way.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“No, the janitor at King Memorial taught me.”
“So how do you say it?”
“Shta-MO-goo,”she said.
“Shta-MO-goo,”he repeated.
“I also know how to say ‘Nothing.’ Ask me ‘What can you do?’ in Serbian.”
“Shta-MO-goo?”he said.
“Neeshta,”she answered.
“What makes you think I got problems?”
“I don’t.”
“You said I eat cause I got problems.”
“No, you eat cause it’s pleasurable is what I said.”
“You said that, too, but you also said I got problems.”
“Well, I was wrong.”
He looked at her. His cell phone rang. He unclipped it from his belt, hit the SEND button.
“Weeks,” he said. “Hey, Steve.” He listened. “When? Okay. See you.” He pressed the END button, and hung the phone on his belt again. “I gotta go up the Eight-Seven,” he said. “Carella and Kling think they’re onto something. Do you like to dance?”
“Yes, I love to dance,” Patricia said, surprised.
“You want to go dancing with me sometime?”
“Sure.”
“I’m a good dancer. I won a salsa contest one time.”
“I’ll bet you are.”
“I really am.”
“I said so, didn’t I?”
“So when would you like to go?”
“I don’t know. You’re the man. You say when.”
“How about this weekend?”
“Okay.”
“Saturday night?”
“Okay.”
“Put on a nice dress.”
“I will.”
“I’ll wear my blue suit.”
“Sounds good to me,” she said.
“Shta-MO-goo?”he said.
“Neeshta,”she answered.
