you knew that, too, didn't you?'
'It certainly looked that way.'
He washed down the last bite of cheeseburger with the last swallow of milk, pulled a napkin from the dispenser, and wiped his mouth. 'Somethin' you don't know, though.'
'There's a great deal I don't know.'
'Killer was white.'
'How do you know that?'
'Girl told me.'
'That's damned interesting,' I said. 'I wonder how a rumor like that got all the way to the Bronx.'
'Who said anything about the Bronx? We talkin' Audubon Avenue in Washington Heights where the guy in the Yellow got shot.'
'What were you doing there?'
'Same thing I doin' everywhere, mindin' other folks's business. Did I say it a Spanish neighborhood? I didn't blend in too good.'
'I guess your Spanish is rusty.'
'I best get some of those tapes, learn it in my sleep. But what good's bein' able to talk Spanish in your sleep?' He shrugged. 'Don't make no sense. What I done, I was this assistant to Melissa Mikawa, does them features on New York One?'
'I know who you mean. You told them you were her assistant?'
'Why not? I wasn't wearin' these clothes, Rose. Got me some long pants, neat little polo shirt, pair of penny loafers. Put on a Brooks Brothers accent to match the clothes. You think I didn't look like some kind of assistant to a TV reporter?'
'What about the hair?'
He whipped off his cap. His hair was a tight cap of curls that rose a scant half-inch from his scalp. 'Got it cut,' he said. 'What you think?'
'It looks good.'
'Looks better with the cap on,' he said. 'Least when I'm on the Deuce it does.' From the red Kangaroo circling his waist he produced a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, put them on. 'I was wearin' these,' he said. 'An' I was carryin' a clipboard. That's even better than the glasses. Man with a clipboard, you know he's there on legitimate business, an' everybody can't hardly wait to tell him the combination to the safe. You know who told me that?'
'Some legendary con artist, I'm sure.'
'Yeah, well, he ain't that slick, 'cause he be payin' for my breakfast this morning.'
'I told you about the clipboard?'
' 'Bout a year ago. We havin' coffee, you reminiscin', tellin' me stuff. You don't recall? Well, see, I pay attention when Matthew Scudder be talkin'. Even if you don't.'
'What did you tell them on Audubon Avenue? Melissa Mikawa's planning a segment on murdered cabdrivers?'
He nodded. 'I said she doin' a story on that particular case, an' how it was never solved, 'cause what do they know on Audubon Avenue about Shy Mims an' his upstate huntin' lodge? I said how anybody who was aroun' when it went down, anybody who heard or saw anything, might get to be on television. An' they be gettin' to meet Melissa Mikawa. Man, they loves that bitch up in Washington Heights! She Japanese, right?'
'If she isn't,' I said, 'it's a hell of an act she puts on.'
'Well, they actin' like they think she's Rican. Axin' me all this shit, what's she like, has she got a boyfriend. Time I got done makin' up stories about her, I was starting to believe ' em myself. Anyway, I found this one girl, she was right there when Cloonan got killed.'
'What did she see?'
'Saw the Yellow pull up an' park in the bus stop on the corner. Then a little while later she saw this dude get out an' close the door an' walk away.'
' 'A little while later.' Five minutes? Ten minutes?'
'Man, this was four years ago. An' she still in high school, so how old was she when it went down? An' who remembers how long a cab stands around 'fore some fool gets out of it? She wouldna thought anything of it at all, except later on the police came and drugged a body out of the Yellow.'
'She didn't hear a shot.'
'Says she didn't.'
'He must have used a suppressor. You say she got a look at him?'
'She got a look. Don't know how good a look it was.'
'And she said he was white? Could he have been a white Hispanic?'
'I said was he Spanish, and she said he was white.'
'Like, no, he wasn't Spanish, he was white?'
'Like that, yeah.'
'And he got out of the cab, and-'
'Leaned in, like he was sayin' something to the driver. Like, wait for me. That's why nobody thought nothin' when the Yellow stayed right where it was.'
'Was the meter on?'
'Wasn't on in the first place.'
'He threw the flag before he pulled up to park? They do that sometimes but-'
'What she said,' TJ said, 'and you got to keep in mind this was four years ago-'
'And she was just a kid, I understand that part. What did she say?'
'Dude wasn't a fare.'
'The passenger? The man she saw?'
'He was ridin' in front.'
'You don't mean he was driving, because they found Cloonan behind the wheel.'
'Didn't say drivin', said ridin'. In the passenger seat, 'cept they should be callin' it somethin' else, 'cause you a passenger in a cab, you ride in the back, Jack. But he was ridin' up front with the driver.'
'How far away was she?'
'Two, three doors down the street. She showed me the candystore they was standin' in front of, her an' her friends. 'Splained to me how Melissa Mikawa could do a stand-up interviewin' her in front of the store. Man, she coulda been Melissa Mikawa's assistant, all the media trash she was talkin'.'
'What did he look like?'
'White.'
'Tall, short, fat, thin, young, old-'
'Just white. But don't forget-'
'It was four years ago and she was a kid, right. You think I'd get anywhere putting her together with Ray Galindez?'
'So Elaine'll have another picture to hang up in the shop? I can see her gettin' into it, but what comes out might be more imaginin' than rememberin'. She'd swear he had tits an' a tail if it'd get her on New York One.'
'I probably ought to talk to her.'
'Like you a cop? Or like you workin' for Miss Mikawa also?'
'I'll be an assistant news director,' I said. 'How's that?'
He considered, then nodded. 'I'll go get my polo shirt and my khakis,' he said. 'An' my penny loafers. I meant to bring 'em anyway so's I can leave ' em at Elaine's.' He eyed my clothing. 'Maybe you could dress up a little yourself,' he said, 'so we don't start no rumors about New York One's on the skids.'
I put on a blue blazer, and New York One's sartorial reputation stayed unsullied. We rode uptown on the A train and spent forty minutes finding Sombrita Pardo and another half hour getting her story between bites of sausage pizza at a pizza parlor adjacent to the candy store in front of which she'd been standing four years earlier. She was a little dumpling with glossy black hair, olive skin, Indio features, and surprising light brown eyes. Her name meant Little Shadow, she said, which was kind of silly and she used to hate it, but now she was beginning to like it because it was like different.
Her story didn't change. The man who got out of the metered cab was white, and that was as much of a
