"Thank you. I guess his plane was delayed."
Merlin offered his cell phone. "Want to call him? Be my guest."
"That's all right, thank you."
"What's your name, if you don't mind my asking."
"Margaret."
"Well, nice to meet you, Margaret. I hope you don't think I'm sneaky or nothing, but I've been checking you in the mirror ever since you sat down, and I have an inkling that you were checkingmeout, once or twice, weren't you? You're a lovely-looking woman. Unforgettable. I hope to see you again."
"Why not?" said Holly.
Fallen Moon
Mickey was waiting for her on the steps outside the hotel, smoking. "So, how did it go?" he asked her, laying his hand on her shoulder.
"Ouch," she protested.
"Sorry-forgot about the bruise. Did you pick up anything good?"
"Well, it took some time, but I think so. Krauss came out with a name, somebody called Rossabi. He also mentioned a time and a date, and Richard Herrera's Hair Salon on Southwest Main. I even think I know what they're planning to do with the body."
"You're amazing. You know that? You're absolutely amazing. Listen-why don't we go to the Rock Bottom Brewery and we can have a serious debriefing over a serious beer?"
"I can't. I have to go home and give Daisy her supper."
She had just climbed into Mickey's car, however, when her cell phone warbled, and it was a text message from Daisy. "Mom. Tracey hs asked me 2 play & she hs SpongeBob Barbie so can I?" This was immediately followed by "Its OK by me, XX Evelyn. Home by 8."
She showed the messages to Mickey. "What wouldyousay?"
"I'd say that we have time for that beer."
But they were just turning onto Southwest Morrison when Mickey picked up his radio and started talking into it. Holly could see him say, "Harris can't handle it? I'm real tied up here."
He paused and frowned, and then he said, "Names?"
Another pause. "Never heard of either of them."
He nodded and said, "Okay. Okay, I'll get right over there."
"Problem?" asked Holly.
"Yes I'm sorry. I'm going to have to drop you off. There's been a shooting at the Deh-Ta Grocery Store in Chinatown. One individual killed, another one seriously wounded. Somebody at headquarters seems to think that they're friends of mine." He frowned again, thinking, but then he shook his head. "Some guy called Gerald Butler and some other guy called Kevin McKenna. Never heard of either of them."
"Do you want me to come along?"
"You can if you like. It shouldn't take me very long."
"Then I'll come along."
When they reached Chinatown they found the whole block sealed off and seven squad cars parked across the street with their lights flashing, as well as two ambulances and a TV truck. Mickey led Holly through the police barrier and up to the front of the Deh-Ta Grocery Store. The grocery's front was painted in red and gold, and most of the window was crowded with Chinese posters and postcards and dangling dolls and decorations.
Inside, there was a glass counter on the right and a long central aisle crammed with bottles of rice wine and cans of smoked oysters and boxes of Chinese spices. Three floodlights had been positioned around the store so that it looked dazzlingly bright, like a movie set: INT. CHINESE GROCERY STORE. NIGHT.
Seven or eight police officers and paramedics were standing in the aisle in front of the counter, talking in the casual way that people who are used to human tragedy always do. On the wooden floor in front of them lay the body of an overweight young man in his late twenties, wearing faded blue jeans and a white shirt with splashy red poppies on it, except that they weren't splashy red poppies: They were blood. Holly could see his pale hairy belly bulging over his belt.
A stocky, gray-haired man in a crumpled gray linen coat came out of the store. "Mickey hi. Thanks for dropping by." He looked Holly up and down. "Didn't want to screw up your evening or anything."
"This is Holly Summers. She's our consultant lipreader."
"Oh,right. I heard about her. The deaf lady. You used her on the Steelhead Cannery case, didn't you? Classic bust, that. Classic. I don't know how she did it."
"Jack, she may be deaf, but she can understand what you're saying, and believe it or not she can speak."
"Oh, sorry. Tell her I'm sorry."
Mickey pointed to Holly, and Jack Harris gave her a quick, embarrassed glance and muttered, "Sorry."
"So what's happening here? Who are these guys that are supposed to be friends of mine?"
"It was a robbery that went wrong. Three guys came into the store, one of them stood by the door to stop anybody else from coming in, the other two went up to Mr. Deh-Ta and told him to open the register."
"Were they armed?"
"Mr. Deh-Ta said that one of them was holding something black that looked like an automatic weapon. He said he was frightened for his life, so he took out his pump-action shotgun from under the counter and let the guy have it, point-blank range in the chest. The second guy ran for the door but Mr. Deh-Ta shot him in the back. Lucky for the second guy that Mr. Deh-Ta is a lousy shot: It only took half his shoulder off."
"That sounds like pretty good luck to me," said Mickey, looking at Holly. "Did you recover the automatic weapon?"
Jack Harris lifted his left hand. Dangling from his index finger was a black collapsible umbrella.
"You could do a lot of serious damage with that," Mickey remarked.
"Depends where you put it before you opened it up."
Mickey looked around. "So who said these guys were friends of mine? What did you say their names were?"
"Gerald Butler is the dead guy. Kevin McKenna is the guy with no shoulder. It was McKenna who said you were friends of theirs." Pause. "Well, obviously."
Mickey said to Holly, "Wait here a second, will you?"
He went into the store and edged his way through the cops and the paramedics. Holly could see him hunkering down beside the body. After a while he stood up and edged his way out again.
"August Moon," he said, with a peculiar cough.
"What?"
"Gerald Butler is part of a Chinese transvestite act who call themselves the Three Concubines. His stage name is August Moon. Kevin McKenna is Lotus Flower, and the third guy was probably Bruce."
Jack Harris took out his notebook. "You know something? The longer I live, the more I see, the less I don't fucking believe it."
"They wouldn't have hurt a fly. They'd had some bad luck getting bookings, that's all. This, ah Mr. Deh-Ta-he still around?"
"Sure. He's in the squad car over there."
"Mind if I talk to him for a minute?"
"Be my guest."
Mickey held up his wristwatch and tapped the crystal to indicate to Holly that he wouldn't be long. He went over to the squad car and climbed into the rear seat next to Mr. Deh-Ta. Holly couldn't see much of Mr. Deh-Ta because of the reflected light against the curving window, but he looked thin and fiftyish, with wiry hair sticking up.
Jack Harris suddenly turned to Holly and shouted,"You really that deaf? Like, ah, I don't want to be personal or nothing!"She could tell by the excited look on his face that he was quite pleased with himself for talking to her, as if he had plucked up the courage to have a conversation with somebody in a wheelchair.
"Totally deaf," she smiled. "So there's no need for you to shout."
"Oh," he blinked. Then, cunningly, "How did you know I was shouting?"
"Because your face went bright red and everybody else turned around to look at you."
"Oh."
She turned to see what Mickey was doing. Although the inside of the squad car was so dark, a curve of light illuminated Mickey's lips, and now and then Mr. Deh-Ta turned halfway toward her too. She couldn't pick up everything that Mickey was saying, but the expression on his face said it all.
"So how much did you have in the register?"
Head shake.
"How much did you have in the regis
ter, Mr. Deh-Ta? I want to know how much you had in the register."
"Hundred dollar. Maybe hundred twenty-five and change."
"You killed a guy for a hundred twenty-five and change? You fuckingkilledhim?"
"-gun-"
"What, are you blind? That wasn't a gun, that was a fuckingumbrella. Do you ever watch TV?"
Head shake.
"I said, do you ever watch TV? Do you watch cop shows? Ever seen a cop show?NYPD Blue,anything like that?"
"He ask for money. He say give me all your money."
"With anumbrella,Mr. Deh-Ta! You ever seen the bad guys inNYPD Bluepulling umbrellas? 'Give me all your money, or else I'll make sure that you don't get wet!'?"
Holly started to smile, but then she saw Mickey take hold of Mr. Deh-Ta's necktie and shake the Chinaman's head from side to side. She looked around for Jack Harris, but he had gone back inside the store.
Mickey's face was as hard as riven slate. "You killed a guy, Mr. Deh-Ta, and you took half another guy's arm off, because you didn't fucking look and you didn't fuckingthink.And do you know what's going to happen to you? Nothing, that's what's going to happen to you. In fact, they'll probably give you a fucking medal."
Mickey stopped for breath, and then he slammed Mr. Deh-Ta's head back against the headrest. Holly saw Mickey's mouth shouting, "He was a human being! He was a human being! You just don't get it, do you! He was somebody's son!"
She walked quickly over to the squad car and rapped on the window. Mickey immediately let go of Mr. Deh-Ta's necktie and made of show of tugging his shirt collar straight. At that moment Jack Harris came back out of the store, writing in his notebook.
Mickey climbed out of the far side of the car. He smoothed back his hair with both hands and buttoned up his coat. Holly stared at him and she didn't know what to say. He simply raised one eyebrow, as if to say "What?"
Jack Harris opened up the nearside door and helped Mr. Deh-Ta to climb out. Mr. Deh-Ta looked confused and bewildered, and when Mickey came around the car toward him he lifted one elbow as if to protect himself.
"Don't worry about a thing, Mr. Deh-Ta," said Mickey, slapping him on the back. "You're a hero."
On the way home, Mickey turned to Holly and said, "You're quiet."
"I don't know. I guess I'm a little shocked, that's all."
"Because I gave that guy a hard time?"
"Because I'm seeing a side of you I never saw before. First Elliot Joseph, now this guy."
Mickey thought about that for a while, and then he said, "I'm a cop, Holly. That means I get paid to uphold the law. But there's law and there's justice, and believe me, they're two different ball games.
"August Moon he was one of the gentlest people on the planet. You want to talk about law? Okay, August Moon broke the law. But you want to talk about justice? He was executed without a trial. He was executed for being different, and for finding it difficult to make a living. All over America, every day of the week, peoplemurderpeople and they don't get executed. But August Moon tried to steal a hundred twenty-five bucks with a collapsible umbrella and that was it. The death sentence."
He drew up outside Torrefazione. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have seen what happened tonight. You did very good work at the Compass . You've probably saved a woman's life."
"I have to go in now. Daisy will be home soon."
All the same, she stayed where she was and looked at him for almost half a minute without saying anything, and he looked back at her.
"I hope, ah ," Mickey began, and then stopped.
"You hope what?"
"I hope what happened with Elliot Joseph, and back there at Deh-Ta's I hope you're not starting to think that I'm some kind of psycho."
She smiled and shook her head. "I can understand why you lost your temper. I think I might have done the same."
"You? I can't imagine you angry."
"Oh, you wouldn't like me when I'm angry."
"What would you do?" asked Mickey. "Turn green and throw a bus at me?"
"No. I'd stop reading your lips, that's all."
"Whoo. That would shut me up, wouldn't it?"
"As far asI'mconcerned, totally."
Mickey reached out and gently fingered her hair. "This isn't an easy thing to say. I mean, however I put it, it's going to sound patronizing."
"Go on," she encouraged him.
"The whole thing is I like you, Holly. I really like you for who you are. It's no good me trying to pretend that it doesn't matter, you being deaf. Like, it's part of the reason I like you so much: the fact that you're deaf and yet, the way that you deal with it."
He clenched his fist and knocked himself twice on the forehead. "Shit, that came out wrong."
Holly smiled. "I like you, too, Mickey."
"But what?"
"I didn't saybut. It's just that I don't know you very well. After this evening, less than I thought."
"But you still like me?"
She hesitated, and then she kissed him on the cheek.
Daisy Sulks
Friday was Marcella's evening off, so Holly went down to Torrefazione downstairs and brought up pepperoni pizza with extra black olives. It was fresh and hot, but Daisy ate only one slice of hers and then prodded at the rest with her fork, swinging one leg under the table.
Holly watched her for a while and then said, "You don't like it? I could get you something else instead. Maybe some linguine?"
Daisy shrugged and continued prodding and swinging.
"Now you're not talking to me? What? You're annoyed that I'm going away for the weekend?"
Another shrug. Holly finished her mouthful and said, "Listen, I haven't had a break for over a year. I deserve a break, quite frankly. And you don't mind spending the weekend with Gillian, do you? If you do, why didn't you say so before I made the arrangement?"
"I don't mind spending the weekend with Gillian, okay?"
"So what's wrong? Tell me, I'm your mother."
"It's nothing."
"It'snothing?So why are you behaving like a ballet dancer with a sore butt?"
Daisy glowered at her from under her eyebrows but didn't answer.
"You all finished, then?" Holly asked her. "You're excused from the table. You can wash your plate and put it away and then you can go pack for tomorrow. And don't take that yellow skirt with the frills: It's too small for you and it makes you look like a human daffodil."
Daisy sulked off into the kitchen. Holly sat at the dining table alone, trying to finish her pizza, but she didn't have the appetite for it anymore. She pushed her plate away and poured herself another glass of wine. Under her breath she sang,"What is your one-o? Green grow the rushes-o. One is one and all alone and ever more shall be so."She could hear it in her head but she couldn't hear her own voice.
Tears at Bedtime
Holly packed the smart green weekend bag that Tyrone had bought her at the Columbia Sportswear Company, and then she went to see how Daisy was managing. Daisy was sitting on the end of her bed with a heap of clothes strewn all over it, and only a Princess Barbie and two pairs of panties in her case.
"Come on, I'll help you," said Holly.
"I can do it."
"Okay, but if you're going to do it, do it. I want you to get an early night tonight."
She waited, but Daisy made no effort to finish her packing. In the end she sat down beside her and said, "What's wrong? Come on, pumpkin, you can tell me what it is, whatever it is."
Daisy looked at her and her eyes were filling up with tears. "I miss my daddy," she said.
Holly put her arm around her and hugged her. Daisy was so outspoken and sure of herself that sometimes she forgot how young she was, how vulnerable. "I know you do, pumpkin. I miss him too."
"Do you have to go to Mirror Lake with Katie and Doug? Couldn't you go someplace else?"
"You don't want me to go to Mirror Lake? Is that what this is all about?"
"I don't want you to go with Ned."
"But why? You don'
t even know Ned. Neither do I."
"I just don't like the sound of him. Ned. He sounds like a horse."
"He's probably okay. Katie thinks I'm really going to like him."
"That's the trouble."
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