Ten minutes after Vicky’s body is loaded into the ambulance and hauled off for autopsy, Dennison is on the radio with Mayor Welby, of all people. Then Miskewitz gets on the horn and, as Dennison raises his eyebrows so high they could tear, the lieutenant tells Lenore to “proceed with the investigation.”
So she and Woo end up back in the Park, staring out at the rear of the Hotel Penumbra from her favorite alley, waiting, as long as is necessary, for Mingo Bouza to show his face.
“Very simply,” says Woo through his smile, “all I’m attempting to ask you is if you’ve given thought to the consequences of your actions.”
Lenore slouches in her seat, her eyes glued to the Penumbra’s garage. “There’s something about you that’s not right,” she says to Woo. “You just witnessed me blow away a seventeen-year-old girl …”
“Yes.”
“ … and you want to know, your big question is, if I’ve thought about what I’m doing bribing Little Max the snitch with some drawings by some local cartoonist. This is what you’re asking me?”
“Exactly.”
“Jesus Christ, you are a goddamn idiot.”
“You are so hostile.”
“That’s right, that’s correct, and you shouldn’t taunt a hostile person. The danger is enormous.”
“I’m not trying to taunt you. I’m curious if you’ve carried your actions to their logical ends.”
“My actions concerning Max and the drawings?”
“That’s right. I’m looking for an insight into the police mind …”
“Oh, what is this shit? ‘Police mind’ …”
“I’m sure this will sound trite to you, but, in fact, didn’t your enticing Max with the artwork constitute a corruption of innocence, something you hate Mr. Cortez for?”
Lenore can’t believe what she’s hearing. She shakes her head and turns to him. “Woo, I have to know this, you’re thought of as a bright guy, right? You’re a freaking expert in your field, correct? But I sit here and I listen to you and, for Christ sake, to me you’re as dumb as mud. Really. This isn’t just a way of insulting you. This is how I feel.”
Woo isn’t upset at all. “Continue,” he says.
“First off, who said I hated Cortez? Did someone hear that come out of my mouth? Mr. Expert on Language? Did you hear those words? Did I fall asleep behind the wheel here and say this and I’m not aware of it? No, sorry, never said it. You’ve made a huge assumption — Lenore hates Cortez — enormous goddamn assumption. Now, beyond that, you, of all people, again, Mr. Freaking Language, Dr. Language, right, you say I’m a corrupter of innocence. Listen, excuse me, I’ve got to say this — Mr. Asshole, okay, Little Max may be young, I’d say he’s fifteen or so, which, I’ll grant you, is traditionally thought of as relatively young here in Quinsigamond. But where does it say youth and innocence are the same thing? You’re Mr. Language, right? Youth. Innocence. Two very different words as far as I can tell. Yep, I bribed a young kid. I manipulated him beautifully, I’m great at that. But I had no dealings with any innocence. Little Max has been a stranger to innocence for quite some time.”
Woo nods his head, tries to indicate that he’s impressed with what she’s said. “Very good,” he says. “Point well taken. But beyond this, you did use him as an informer. We can agree on this small, simple fact.”
“We can agree. He’s an informer. I received information from him. I do it every week. I’ll continue to do it. It’s how the job is done.”
“I’m just wondering how you feel about informers in general.”
“In general, I think that they’re pieces of garbage that can’t be trusted and are wrong as often as they’re right. I know what you’re looking for here. How do I morally perceive them? That’s what’s underneath your question. Don’t bother to answer. I think they’re contemptible. In general. But I like Max. I would exclude Max from that answer. At the moment.”
“At the moment?”
“Things change.”
“I’m having trouble placing you, Lenore. On the political compass.”
“You’ve got a hunch I’m sort of this paranoid, McCarthyist creep, a loaded gun. Ticking bomb. Fascist hypocrite. Nut-case libertarian …”
“I honestly don’t know quite what you are.”
“Well, let’s leave it that way for the time being. So much more romantic.”
“Do you use drugs, Lenore?”
“Of course not. Narcotics officer, remember?”
“I was wondering what percentage of the enforcers, the policers, were guilty of the crime themselves.”
“No idea. I don’t know of any. You could probably find a study somewhere.”
“No doubt. Why have you never married?”
Lenore can’t help but laugh. Her face crumbles into a huge smile, then she dissolves, laughter coming full from the mouth, shoulders and stomach actually shaking. She pulls her noise into a closing whine and says, “Oh, Freddy, Freddy. I think you have a real attraction to violence. You just push and push.”
Woo loves the reaction he’s gotten out of her. He folds his arms across his chest, pleased, a little proud of himself, she thinks.
“You’re being wasted in academia. You should be one of those all-night radio guys. Syndicated. Open lines to all of America. Get them on the line and open them up. An audio incision from head to toe. Push and push and get every twisted insomniac to confess all their sins and crimes to the public. What entertainment. You’d be a phenomenon. Ratings history.”
“I will admit, I’ve always had a strong love of radio.”
“That would have been my guess. You’re a radio guy if I’ve ever seen one.”
“You are quite a package of contradictions, Lenore. I suppose it’s no secret at this point that you fascinate me.”
“I’m trying to picture that sentence coming out of anyone else’s mouth. Can’t do it.”
“Could we admit a mutual attraction here? Could we both extend ourselves to risk and vent these hazardous feelings?”
Lenore goes quiet and just stares at him. She opens and then closes her mouth. Then she opens it again and says, “You’re either the most pathetic guy I’ve ever met or you’re over the top, you’re tooling with me and I don’t even know it, you’ve got capacities that I’m just blind to.”
“And aren’t you curious to know which it is, Lenore?”
She wishes she had some perfect, hateful line. Instead she says, with little conviction, “You tell me.”
“Like you said before — things change. I think that’s the bottom line, really. I think everything is in constant flux. I think that nothing in this world is stable. I think maybe the difference between being pathetic and being overwhelmingly in control is a difference of perspective. And that perspective, like a pendulum, will swing from one extreme to the other.”
He reaches across to her and just barely touches the skin on the back of her neck. He runs a finger lightly down a cord of knotted muscle. If it were Zarelli doing this, a man she’s spent the past several months sleeping with, she’d be driving an elbow into his chest and curing his stupidity. Now, shocked at herself, she comes up with a weak, heartless “Don’t.”
Woo doesn’t stop. He shifts a bit in his seat, draws nearer to her side of the car. His voice goes low and he says, “My guess is you drink far too much coffee. The tension is just gleaming off your body. You could do with a month of massage and hot baths.”