The Frumious Bandersnatch

“…may already be dead.”

“OH JESUS,” Kellie said.

She had just entered the room, and the first thing she saw was blood.

She closed the door behind her, went swiftly to where Tamar lay huddled near the radiator, her hand still cuffed to it, her wrist torn and caked with blood where she had tried to pull the hand free. Her nose was crusted with blood as well, her lips swollen, her eyes puffed and discolored. There was blood on her thighs and higher up on her legs.

“Oh, baby, what did he do to you?” Kellie asked, and put the rifle down on the floor, and took Tamar’s free hand in her own.

“YOU GONNAnot talk to me forever?” Cal asked.

“Just shut up, you freak,” Avery told him. “Soon as we get this money, you’re history.”

“She asked for it,” Cal said. “Wasn’t my fault what happened.”

“I said shut up. You jeopardized this whole deal. This whole deal was we send her back safe. You wrecked her looks, you fucked up the whole deal, you fuckin moron.”

“He’ll bring the money, anyway. He don’t know what she looks like, all he knows is we got her. He don’t know nothin happened to her. He’ll bring the seven-fifty, you’ll see, and we’re on our way.”

“Just keep quiet, I’m not interested in anything you have to say.”

Avery looked at his watch.

It was seventeen minutes past seven.

THE SUPERINTENDENTof the building at 8412 Winston Road told them his name was Ralph Hedrings. Hawes thought he’d said “Ralph Headrinse.” That was okay because Hedrings thought Hawes had said “Detective Horse.” When they got there at seven-twenty, the super was still at dinner. He didn’t particularly enjoy being interrupted by a pair of detectives looking for someone who’d moved out last month. Particularly someone who Hedrings considered had a superior attitude. But he asked his wife to keep his “supper” warm, was what he called it, and then stepped outside the building with them and lit a cigarette.

“She doesn’t know I still smoke,” he explained, letting out a self-satisfied poisonous cloud. “Her brother had his larynx removed last month, she thinks everybody in the world’s gonna get throat cancer now. I been smoking since I was sixteen, I don’t even cough. Why are you looking for Avery Hanes?”

“Few questions we need to ask him,” Carella said. “Would you know where…?”

“Him and his girlfriend were living here for almost a year. All of a sudden, he tells me he’s moving when the lease expired.”

“When was that, Mr. Hedrings?”

“April one,” Hedrings said.

“Any idea where he went?”

“None at all.”

“And you say he was living here with his girlfriend?”

“Redheaded girl.”

“Would you know her name?”

“Kellie. With ani.e. ”

“Kellie what?”

“Don’t know. He was the one signed the lease.”

So now they had three names.

Or, more accurately, two and a half names.

JUST AS LOOMISpulled the town car off Exit 5, he spotted the blue Mercury with Endicott and Lonigan in it driving past the parking lot as though looking for an address somewhere on the street, cruising slowly, stop-and- go-ing. He pulled the car into the lot, and sat there, looking out over the wheel at the headlights zipping by on the Drive. Sitting beside him, Corcoran said into his phone, “We’re here. See anything yet?”

“Nothing,” Endicott said.

The car’s cell phone rang a moment later.

It was seven-twenty-sixP.M. on the dashboard clock.

“WHEREare you?” Avery asked.

“Off Exit 5,” Loomis said.

“Take a left onto Fairlane. Drive downtown to the Grace Wagner School of Design on Cronley. Park in front of the statue there. No tricks.”

There was a click on the line.

“What’d he say?”

“The Wagner School of Design on Cronley. Wants us to park in front of the statue there.”

Corcoran tapped a button on the face of his cell phone.

“Endicott.”

“Heading downtown to Cronley, Wagner School of Design. He wants us to park there. Check out the building. Careful, they may be watching, same as before.”

“Moving,” Endicott said.

“He told me no tricks,” Loomis said.

Corcoran merely nodded.

“IS THIS PICTUREa mystery or something?” Ollie asked.

“No, not at all,” Patricia said. “It’s Shakespeare, I told you.”

“Because it’s calledLooking for Richard, you know,” Ollie said, “which sounds like a sort of mystery, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe so.”

“Like a missing person or something, you know?”

They were sitting watching commercials on the screen, eating popcorn and waiting for the movie to start. Ollie had bought two big cartons of popcorn with extra butter, and two Diet Pepsis because a person couldn’t be too careful, and two big bars of Hershey’s chocolate with almonds in case Patricia was still hungry after she finished her popcorn. It bothered him that he had to sit here and watch commercials for restaurants and clothing stores, as if he hadn’t paid for the tickets and was getting something free.

It also bothered him that he didn’t knowexactly what this movie was about. If it was about a missing person, he’d had some experience along those lines, you know, and could relate to the movie more easily. But if it was about Shakespeare, the way Patricia said it was, then why had they named itLooking for Richard, which made it sound as if somebody had been kidnapped or something?

“Are you sure this is going to be Shakespeare?” he asked her.

“Oh yes,” she said. “It’s about doingRichard the Third. ”

“Ah-ha!” he said. “Itis a mystery!”

“It is?”

“You just said it’s about doing Richard the Third.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean ‘doing’ in that sense. I meant performing the play. DoingRichard the Third. ”

“So why are they calling itLooking for Richard if there’s no ticking clock?” he asked. Reminded, he looked at his watch. It was seven-forty-three and the movie was scheduled to start at seven-forty-five. So where was it? Why did they have to sit here watching a commercial for an antiques store, as if anyone would want to buy old used furniture and stuff?

“I’m really excited about seeing this again,” Patricia said, and suddenly reached over for his hand and squeezed it.