thanked her for her hospitality, and suggested that she and her husband might like to visit his home.
'That would be nice,' she said, smiling shyly. 'But with the children and the baby… Well, perhaps we can arrange it.'
'Try,' he urged. 'I have a feeling you and my wife would hit it off.'
She looked at her husband. If a signal passed between them, Delaney didn't catch it.
At the door, she put a hand on his arm. 'Thank you for helping,' she said in a low voice. 'You are a good man.'
'I'm not so sure about that,' he said.
'I am,' she said softly.
They were having a breakfast of eggs scrambled with onions and lox.
Delaney was chomping a buttered bagel.
'What are your plans for today?' he asked idly.
'Shopping,' Monica said promptly. 'With Rebecca. All day. We'll have lunch somewhere. I'll buy the Christmas cards and gifts for the children.' :'Good.'
'What would you like for Christmas?'
'Me? I'm the man who's got everything.'
'That's what you think, buster. How about a nice cigar case from Dunhill?'
He considered that. 'Not bad,' he admitted. 'That old one I've got is falling apart. A dark morocco would be nice. What would you like?'
'Please,' she said, 'no more drugstore perfume. Surprise me. Are you going shopping?'
'No, I'll hang around awhile. Suarez said he'd call, and I want to be here.'
'What would you like for dinner?'
'You know what we haven't had for a long time? Creamed chicken on buttermilk biscuits with--2' 'With mashed potatoes and peas,' she finished, laughing.
'A real goyish meal. A good Jew wouldn't be caught dead eating that stuff.'
'Force yourself,' he told her. 'I just suffered through a Jewish breakfast, didn't IT' 'Some suffering,' she jeered. 'You gobbled that-'
But then the phone rang, and he rose to answer it.
'Edward X. Delaney here,' he said. 'Yes, Chief… Good morning… You did? And what was his reaction? Fine. Fine.
I thought he'd go for it. Yes, I'll wait for them. Thank you, Chief* I'll be in touch.'
He hung up and turned to Monica.
'Thorsen okayed everything. I'm getting the car, and Boone and Jason T.
Jason will be delegated to me, through Suarez, on temporary assignment.
They're copying the files now and will probably be here before noon.'
'Can I tell Rebecca about Abner?'
'Sure. He's probably told her already.'
'Are you happy about this, Edward?'
'Happy?' he said, surprised at the word. 'Well, I'm satisfied. Yes, I guess I'm happy. It's nice to be asked to do a job.'
'They need you,' she said stoutly.
'No guarantees. I warned Thorsen and I warned Suarez.'
'But the challenge really excites you.'
He shrugged.
'You'll crack it,' she assured him.
'Crack it?' he said, smiling. 'You're showing your age, dear. Cops don't crack cases anymore, and reporters don't get scoops. That was all long ago.'
'Goodbye then,' she said, 'if I'm so dated. You clean up.
I'm going shopping.'
'Spend money,' he said. 'Enjoy.'
He did clean up, scraps and dishes and coffeemaker. He shouted a farewell to Monica when she departed, then went into the study to read the morning Times and smoke a cigar.
But then he put the paper aside a moment to reflect.
You just couldn't call it a challenge -as Monica had; there was more to it than that.
Every day hundreds -thousands- of people were dying in wars, revolutions, terrorist bombings, religious feuds; on highways, in their homes, walking down the street, in their beds. Unavoidable deaths, some of them-just accidents. But too many the result of deliberate violence.
So why be so concerned with the killing of a single human being? Just another cipher in a long parade of ciphers. Not so.
Edward X. Delaney could do little about wars; he could not end mass slaughter. His particular talent was individual homicide. Event and avenger were evenly matched.
A life should not be stopped before its time by murder.
That's what it came down to.
He took up his newspaper again, wondering if he was spinning fantastical reasons that had no relation to the truth. His motives might be as complex as those of Michael Ramon Suarez in seeking his help.
Finally, common sense made him mistrust all these soft philosophical musings and he came back to essentials: A guy had been chilled, Delaney was a cop, his job was to find the killer. That defined his role as something of value: hard, simple, and understandable. He could be content with that.
He finished his newspaper and cigar at about the same time, and put both aside. The Times carried a one- column story on the Ellerbee homicide in the Metropolitan Section. It was mostly indignant tirades from Henry Ellerbee and Dr. Diane Ellerbee, denouncing the NYPD for lack of progress in solving the murder.
Acting Chief of Detectives Suarez was quoted as saying that the Department was investigating several 'promising leads,' and 'significant developments' were expected shortly.
Which was, as Delaney well knew, police horse shit for 'We ain't got a thing and don't know where to turn next.'
The two officers arrived a little after noon, lugging four cartons tied with twine. Delaney led them directly into the study, where they piled the boxes in a high stack. Then they all had a chance to shake hands, grinning at each other. The two cops were wearing mufti, and Delaney took their anoraks and caps to the hall closet. They were still standing when he returned to the study.
'Sit down, for God's sake,' he said. 'Sergeant, I saw you ten days ago, so I know how you are. Monica's out with Rebecca today, by the way, spending our money. Jason, I haven't seen you in-what's it been?-almost two years.
Don't tell me you've lost some weight?'
'Maybe a few pounds, sir. I didn't think it showed.'
'Well, you're looking great. Family okay?'
'Couldn't be better, thank you. My two boys are sprouting up like weeds.
All they talk about is basketball.'
'Don't knock it,' Delaney advised. 'Good bucks there.'
The two officers didn't ask any questions about what the deal was and what they were doing there-and Delaney knew they wouldn't. But he felt he owed them a reason for their presence.
Briefly, he told them that Acting Chief of Detectives Suarez had more on his plate than he could handle, and Deputy Commissioner Thorsen had asked Delaney to help out on the Ellerbee homicide because the Department was getting so much flak from the victim's widow and father-both people of influence.
Delaney said nothing about the cutthroat ethnic and political wars being waged in the top ranks of the NYPD. Boone and Jason seemed to accept his censored explanation readily enough.
'Sergeant,' Delaney said, 'you'll assist in my investigation and liaise with Suarez's crew. Remember, he's in command; I'm just a civilian consultant. Jason, you'll be here, there, everywhere you're needed.
These are temporary assignments. If the case is cleared, or I get bounced, the two of you go back to your regular duties. Okay?'
