‘Never heard of it.’ Alice White stared at the certificate. ‘Maybe it’s a corruption. A lot of foreign names were changed at Ellis Island. I bet the original spelling was Kv instead of Qu. But that still wouldn’t make it a common name.’
‘Good,’ said Mallory. ‘That’ll make it easier to trace her family. It would help if I knew what state they live in. The only next-of-kin we have is a sister in Brooklyn. And she hates cops.’
‘So did my grandmother. She said they were all thieves. They were always ticketing the building for fake violations. Then Gram would give them some cash and – ’ She gave Mallory a weak sorry smile, suddenly remembering that her guest was also police. ‘But that was a long time ago. I’ve never had any problems like – ’
‘Can you remember anything that would tie Natalie to relatives out of state?’
‘I think she came from Racine, Wisconsin. My parents live there, and Gram asked Natalie if she knew them.’
Mallory reached for a folded newspaper at the edge of the table. It was days old. She opened it to the front-page picture of Sparrow being loaded into an ambulance. ‘Can we talk about this now?’
Alice White’s eyes were begging, Please don’t.
‘You knew the police would come.’ Mallory pushed the newspaper across the table. ‘This hanging was a lot like Natalie’s -the hair cut off and packed in her mouth. When you read the paper, you recognized the details. That’s why you were expecting me. I know you saw Natalie’s body. We have a statement from the police officer who saw you in the hall with another kid, a little boy. How old was he?’
‘Six or seven.’ Alice White was mistaking Mallory’s guesswork for absolute certainty. She showed no surprise, only the resignation of a true believer in police omniscience.
‘The two of you saw everything,’ said Mallory, ‘before Officer Parris chased you away.’
The woman nodded. ‘Officer Sticky Fingers. That’s what Gram called him. Or maybe that was the other one.’ She looked up. ‘Sorry – the cops in uniforms – ’
‘They all look alike. I know. So you saw everything, the hair, and the – ’
‘I can still see it.’
‘Who was the little boy? Your brother?’
‘No, I never knew his name. Gram found him wandering in the hall. She took him inside and went through all the stuff in his little suitcase. I remember she found a phone number, but there was nobody home when she called.’
‘Why didn’t she turn him over to the cops?’
‘She’d never – ’ Mrs White shrugged. ‘Like I said, Gram hated the police. She’d never trust them with a child, not that one. You see, there was something wrong with the boy. He couldn’t talk, or he wouldn’t. Well, my grandmother figured somebody must be expecting him for a visit – because of the little suitcase. When she opened it up, everything was still neatly packed. He smelled bad -I think he’d messed in his pants. Gram gave him a bath and changed his clothes. Then she went from door to door, all over the building, the whole neighborhood.’
‘So you were alone with the boy when the cops showed up.’
‘Yes. My grandmother was the one who called the police, but it took them forever to get here. This awful smell was coming from next door. Gram was just frantic. She had a key to Natalie’s place, but it didn’t work. A few hours after Gram left, I heard the cops out in the hall. One of them yelled, „Oh, God, no!“ ‘
‘And you were curious.’
‘You bet. More police showed up, men in suits. One of the men in uniform was guarding the apartment and shooing people away.
I waited till he walked down the hall to talk to a neighbor. Then I went to Natalie’s door. It was wide open.’
‘And the boy was with you.’
‘I was holding his hand. Gram told me not to leave him alone. Well, I saw the body hanging there – but it didn’t look like Natalie. Her eyes and that beautiful long hair – it was just – ’ Alice White took a deep breath. ‘And the roaches – they were crawling down the rope to get at her. The men just left her hanging there while they took their pictures. Then another policeman chased us off.’
‘What happened to the little boy?’
‘That night, a man came to take him away.’
‘Did you recognize him?’
‘No, I was in bed. I only heard the voices in the other room. I think Gram knew him. Or maybe she tried that telephone number again, the one she found in the suitcase. Yes, she must’ve talked to him on the phone. He didn’t have to say who he was when he came to the door.’
‘Did you tell your grandmother what you and the boy – ’
‘God, no. Gram would’ve been so angry. She told me to take care of that boy – not give him nightmares for the rest of his life.’
Charles Butler was no stranger to Brooklyn. He frequently made the trek to this outer borough for a poker game with friends. However, like any good New Yorker, he only knew his habitual routes. Before Riker had allowed his driver’s license to lapse, every other road had been a mystery, even this broad avenue along Prospect Park.
He waited in his car as the detective crossed the street and joined two uniformed policemen standing by a squad car. They were too far away for Charles to hear any conversation, and so he eavesdropped on their body language.
One of the officers shrugged to say, Sorry. Riker’s hands rose in exasperation, and he must have uttered at least one obscenity, for now the officer’s hands went to his hips to say, Hey, it’s not our fault. Behind dark glasses, the slouching detective stared at one man and then the other, giving them no clue to his thoughts. Suddenly both officers were talking with upturned hands, offering new forms of Sorry, probably accompanied by a mollifying sir. In an economy of motion, Riker waved one hand to say, Awe, the hell with it, then turned his back, dismissing them both. He was one very unhappy man when he slid into the front seat of the Mercedes.
‘Not good news, I take it.’ Charles started the engine.
‘Natalie’s sister left town in a big hurry.’ Riker nodded toward the men in uniform. ‘And those two clowns just stood there and watched her drive away – with a suitcase.’’ His head lolled back on the soft leather upholstery. ‘They keep changing the rules on me, Charles. Apparently, if you can say the word lawyer three times without interruption, the cops have to let you go. My fault. I used the word detain instead of arrest.’
‘Bad luck. Sorry.’ The Mercedes pulled away from the curb.
‘Yeah. And I was really looking forward to scaring the shit out of that woman.’ Riker fell into a black silence until the great arches of the Brooklyn Bridge loomed up on the road before them.
Charles sensed there was more to the detective’s dark mood than a lost witness. How else to account for this sadness? When the car stopped in traffic, he turned to the man beside him. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘Yeah, there is.’ The detective stirred, then sat up a bit straighter. ‘I’ve been thinking about the Wichita Kid and that wolf bite.’
This was highly unlikely, but now Charles understood that the real problem was none of his business. ‘You want to know how – ’
‘Naw, here’s my best guess. I figure there’s a one-in-a-million chance the Wichita Kid could survive rabies without a vaccine.’
‘That’s actually true, but I don’t think Jake Swain was aware of it when he wrote the book.’ As they crossed the bridge, Charles launched into the story of Sheriff Peety’s travels from town to town, hunting an outlaw infected with rabies. ‘So he’s chatting up all the local doctors along the way when he meets one who’s heard the story of the rabid wolf that bit – ’