‘How do you think I recognized you?’ Care has a half-smile on her face as she stops, still three steps above the ground floor. She’s waiting for the newcomer to respond, positioning herself where she’s slightly taller than him. It’s a good play, a dominance play, and I settle back to watch.
‘Yeah, of course.’ He pulls a handkerchief out his pocket and mops his head. He’s sweating despite the chill in the air, and I wonder at the coat with its dead, cheap collar. He takes more time than he needs to with the handkerchief, and makes no effort to shed the coat. Rabbit, I believe, though the scent is primarily of acid and rot. Something else as well – something that makes me think of mice and fledglings too weak to fly. He’s stalling, I see that now, and hope the girl notices as well. ‘Hey, sorry for your loss.’
‘Thanks.’ I see her making a mental note, acknowledging that he is aware of the old man’s death. ‘So what brings you here?’
I wince. Better for her to have waited. The sweat and the procrastination were already building up the pressure.
Still, he answers. Her youth, her gender and her slight build give her an advantage in that he discounts her. ‘When the old man – ah – passed, he was looking into a thing for me.’ He strokes the collar, one hand lingering. It seems to give him confidence. ‘A job. I gave him some papers to get him started. You know, a lead. Anyway, I need them back.’
‘He was doing a job for you?’ Her eyes narrow. She doubts him. Doubts herself, too, I believe. There’s something wrong here, but she’s not sure of herself. ‘You came back to him?’
‘Yeah, kid.’ He sees her hesitation. ‘A load of coats went missing. I think he was going to handle it himself. Maybe he thought you hadn’t earned one yet.’ He gives her the once-over. His eyes would linger on her thin body, I believe, but her dead-eyed stare soon turns him away. ‘Anyway, he never got around to it, so I’m going to put in for the insurance.’
‘Insurance?’ Care is eyeing him in a way I know. Taking his measure. It’s not just the coat, too heavy for the weather. The cheap, badly cured fur. There is something wrong with what he’s saying.
‘Yeah, insurance.’ He’s talking too loudly now. Stressing the word too hard. ‘These were the real deal, kid. Not that Chinese dog or rabbit or whatever it is. But you wouldn’t know the difference. Maybe in a few years.’ The leer again, forced this time. He can’t keep himself from looking beyond her. Looking up the stairs.
‘Anyway, it’s legit. And I really need these papers I gave him. For, you know, customs. I figure he kept them in his office. The office he keeps here.’
‘Wait, who told you that?’ Care asks. ‘He never saw clients here.’
It’s too much. He smiles, his information confirmed. ‘A little bird,’ he says. ‘A little sparrow down by Diamond Jim’s.’
‘You saw Tick?’ She can’t help herself. She comes forward – the desperation in her voice doing more to lower her stature than her descent in the eyes of the fat, overdressed man. ‘Where? How is he?’
‘He a friend of yours?’ A greasy grin spreads across the round face. I flex my claws. ‘Yeah, you’re both on AD’s crew. Funny, I never put that together.’
‘Where is he?’ Care’s voice has gone flat. If this man has any sense, he’ll hear the warning in it.
‘Cool your jets. He’s fine. AD’s got him working. Making a living. Which is more than I guess you’re doing.’ He eyes her, and I can imagine what he sees: the tattered, dirty clothes and the pallor of her thin cheeks. ‘Still, you could earn.’
He licks his lips. My ears go back.
‘I’ve got a job.’ Care’s chin goes up but it’s pride that I hear, not deception. ‘A career. I’m taking over the old man’s cases,’ she says. ‘So, no, you can’t look through his papers. But if you’re looking for someone to help you retrieve what has gone missing or locate the lost, I’m your gal.’
She’s quoting someone – the old man, presumably. The words have a grand sound in her mouth, though. They serve to put this sordid suit in his place. He pulls his feet together. Stands up straighter and looks at her with newly opened eyes. ‘You? You’re taking on the business?’
‘Yes,’ she says. ‘Yes, I am. And to start with, I need you to tell me where you last saw the boy, Tick. And also what you know about a company called Rivers Imports.’
THIRTEEN
We celebrate with tuna. A can each, as well as an orange soda for the girl. That man Bushwick hadn’t been much help, but Care did her best with him, and she seems to have enjoyed the process as much as it discomfited him.