The detective takes some time off from the calls to speak to Walter’s veterinarian. The vet is invested in Walter’s survival and the functioning of his kidneys. The detective finds it difficult to dissuade the vet from taking these extraordinary measures. The detective believes that if Walter was his cat, he would be able to tell the vet to put Walter down, but Walter’s all that’s left.
The detective knows that missing people do not leave a void for long, because detritus rushes in to fill the empty space, and as mundane as that detritus usually is, it must be acknowledged. Some may point to the detritus as a saving grace, something to take one’s mind off a missing person. The detective knows this is false. The detritus has no meaning. It’s just there, and the missing person is not. Still, the detective will regret killing the cat. However, he will not pay for feline dialysis.
As a distraction from Walter and the missing boy, the detective investigates Marion Palm in a cursory manner. He reads her work profile on the school’s website. It lists her current projects, and it seems that there are a lot of them. Marion smiles grimly in her headshot. She looks like she has better things she could be doing.
He clicks on Marion’s latest project, which leads him to a gallery of architectural renderings. He recognizes the exterior of the building, but the inside looks like a spaceship. Realistic cartoons of students with backpacks slung over their shoulders traverse the corridors in friendly pairs and trios. He clicks the bottom link: DONATE NOW. Instead of taking the detective to a user-friendly fundraising site, the link apologizes to him for any inconvenience, tells him that the Wing Initiative is taking a brief hiatus, and instructs him to call a phone number with any questions. The detective gets off the phone with the vet by confirming Walter’s next appointment. He calls the number. Daniel picks up.
Forty-five minutes later, the detective is able to work himself out of this conversation, but he has a list of odd and seemingly random things Daniel has told him. Marion Palm is with a sick relative. Nathan Palm is an alumnus of the school. The school is being audited. Ginny Palm has been suspended. The Wing Initiative has been shelved. Daniel may be developing a slight drinking problem (it’s not that Daniel is drinking in the morning; it’s just that he’s starting to want to). Everyone knows that Marion Palm married up.
It’s against protocol, but the detective dials Nathan’s cell. Nathan accepts the call after one ring, even though he doesn’t recognize the number. He says, “Where are you?”
The detective identifies himself and asks if Nathan would mind coming into the precinct to answer a few more questions. “When?” Nathan Palm asks. “How about right now,” the detective replies. Nathan says, “Now is not a great time.” The detective asks why. Nathan can’t say why and tells himself that it will be easy to find his missing daughter. “Right, sure, got it,” he says into the phone. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
The detective hangs up. A conversation should solve this, he thinks. That’s all I need.
Ginny’s Suspension
Ginny sits on the cold concrete rim of a fountain and holds her arms. The smokers are above her, on the raised north facade of Brooklyn Borough Hall, behind the Greek Revival columns. The doors of the north facade are all boarded up; the basement entrance on Court Street is used instead. At night, homeless people sleep on the north facade. During the lunch hour and after school, the smokers take over the space. It’s well hidden from view because of the columns, and if a teacher from the school does catch sight of them, the smokers can easily stub out their cigarettes and escape. It also feels good to be twenty feet above everyone else.
Ginny was on her way to join the smokers when she saw the fountain without water and decided this would be a more suitable destination. She doesn’t want to be responsible for finding her own caretaker. She wants someone to ask if she’s okay. She’d say Fine, but the person would persist, and she’d reveal hesitantly how broken she feels.
“Ginny! Ginny.” Nathan runs at her from across the square. Pigeons take flight, and the smokers look down to see Ginny being found by her father. In her mortification, Ginny can say nothing as Nathan puts his arm over her shoulders and steers her to the Borough Hall train station. The smokers watch from the portico.
Once underground, Ginny asks, “Where are we going?” as Nathan fails to understand a MetroCard vending machine.
“The police station,” Nathan says. “Do you have your pass?” Ginny waves her green MetroCard as evidence of how ignorant Nathan really is.
On the subway platform, Nathan taps his toes and looks down the tunnel the wrong way for the train. Ginny corrects him, because it seems he cannot embarrass her enough today. Nathan says “Oh” and turns around but does not apologize for his stupidity.
Posters for the missing boy are taped to each column. “Is that the boy your sister is always talking about?” Nathan asks. Ginny won’t answer. Nathan reads the description on the poster and memorizes the details in case he sees the boy. The poster has clearly been up for a while, so the boy is gone, but Nathan memorizes anyway.
The train arrives, and Nathan puts his arm over Ginny’s shoulders again to guide her onto the train. Ginny sits; Nathan stands, grips the safety bar, and squints at the subway map behind her head.
“So you are suspended for three days.”
“Why are we going to the police station?” Ginny asks.
“A detective wants to ask me some more questions about your mother.”
“Questions about what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe they found her.”
“I don’t think so, honey—they would have told me.” Nathan looks back up to the map, as if it has answers for him. Ginny concentrates on looking like an orphan.
A few stops and Nathan and Ginny find the Fort Greene precinct. Cop cars and minivans are parked diagonally around the gray fortress of a building. Both Palms feel like they have broken the law. When they walk into the station, Nathan realizes that he should not have brought his daughter to this place, because it is not appropriate for a child. However, it’s a nonissue because they’re already there, and also he can’t let Ginny out of his sight.
Nathan gives his name at the front desk, and the policewoman tells him it will be a minute and gestures to a bench. Nathan and Ginny sit. There are a few homeless women on the bench across from them, or at least that’s what Nathan assumes. He is uncomfortable, and he looks at Ginny; her eyes slide over the homeless women. She either doesn’t know that the women are homeless or has already learned how not to see homeless people. Is this because his daughter takes the subway to school every day? Nathan walked.
The detective is in front of them and shaking hands. He’s kind to Ginny and makes space for her beside his desk. He takes Nathan into a room with a table and a few chairs and a lot of filing cabinets. Alone, Nathan says, “My daughter, she was suspended because she keeps running away. I’m afraid that she’s going to do it again if I don’t watch her.”