A matter of time

'Now?'

'No. After the cab comes. We'll follow her now. Make sure she uses that phone.'

'Norm, I'm beginning to think this maybe isn't such a hot idea.'

'It was yours.'

'Yeah. That's why. No. Only sort of. And it's not legal. I'd rather have crooks do the crooked stuff. What if somebody spots me and calls the cops? Lot of people out here. Could we talk our way out of it?'

'What do you mean, 'we,' white man?'

'Norm, if it was anybody else sitting over there, I wouldn't admit it. But I'm scared. Last time I had the shakes this bad was the day Michael…'

'Want some outside backup?' Cash started the car, began creeping down the block. 'Smitty might do it.'

'No. Shit no. We can't get anybody else involved. Even you shouldn't be. Twenty-three years is a lot to risk.'

'Nah. No problem. We can bullshit our way out.' But he, too, had begun to feel that peculiar twisting of the guts remembered from the Ardennes and several occasions when he had approached women with less than honorable intentions. He dithered at the intersection with Klemm till another vehicle rolled up behind him.

He turned right, went over to his own street, then east a block to Thurman. He parked beneath the huge elm on the corner. In the distance, Miss Groloch turned on to Thurman and strode purposefully toward the service station.

Cash said, 'Guy that lives here on the corner is going to run for alderman next year.' As John grunted his disinterested response, Norm turned to peer out the back window. They had parked in front of the house next to his own. He wondered if Annie had noticed. 'Maybe you knew him in school. Name's Tim Schultz.'

'It's the service station all right. She's crossing over. You going to cruise past?'

'No. She might make us. Don't want her changing her mind now.'

Miss Groloch vanished behind the bulk of the station.

'I figure you should have a good two hours,' Cash continued. 'Plenty of time. I'll leave you off, then head for the funeral. Soon as you finish, hoof it over here. Annie'll be home. She never goes anywhere anymore. I'll pick you up when I get back.'

The funeral was small and quiet. The priest didn't have much to say. He, Cash, and two men from the funeral parlor did the pallbearing. Sister Mary Joseph was accompanied only by two nuns. No one else came.

Except Miss Groloch, who watched from a distance, from the shadow of a grove of young maples. Her cab awaited her on a cemetery road behind her.

After depositing the casket next to the grave, Cash positioned himself so he could observe the principals. Sister Mary Joseph showed neither warmth nor coldness. Earlier, she had greeted him only with a curt nod. Miss Groloch seemed more interested in the surrounding cemetery than in the funeral, though there was no one in sight except an old man, off among the fancier monuments, who appeared to be a caretaker.

Once the casket had been lowered and he had deposited his handful of earth, Cash started the old woman's way.

'Sergeant?'

He stopped, turned. 'Sister?'

'Thank you for coming. Even if you had to.'

'Had to? I didn't. It just seemed right.'

'Did she?…'

'Miss Groloch? Yes. She was in those trees over there.' The cab had departed while his back was turned.

The sister squinted.

She was nearsighted, Cash realized. No wonder she hadn't noticed.

'She's gone now. Do you need a ride back to the convent?' He cast a sour look at the gravediggers. They were sidling nearer already, not trying to hide their impatience. Didn't anyone have any respect anymore?

'I'd appreciate that. We came out in the hearse. There's something I want to tell you anyway.'

But she could not seem to get started. After a half mile, Cash asked, 'I've always wondered. How come Miss Groloch upsets you so much? You seem to have adjusted to… to…'

'Jack's disappearance? It's all right, Sister Carmelita,' she told the younger of the nuns in the back seat. The woman had placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. 'I liked Jack, Sergeant. Even when I knew what he was. He was that way. Nobody could really hate him.

'I had no illusions. I knew something would happen, the way he lived. I think I was used to the idea before it did.

'No. I don't hate her for Jack's sake. It's Colin that did it.'

'Colin?'

'My boyfriend. Colin Meara. If you can have a boyfriend when you're that young. The kid I was with the last time I saw Jack.'

'I remember now. But I don't understand.'

'The whole neighborhood knew about Jack. Because of the yelling and screaming and all that. Well, Colin decided he'd play detective. So he snuck into her house one night. And…'