"Stop eying my drink," Fran said.
"I'm not."
"The hell you're not. Oh, have something, Waldo. Never mind about that twerp."
"I have to mind, Fran. One false move and Schufeldt would be happier than a pig in shit to tell Carl Gildersleeve."
"I hate that expression." She wrinkled her nose.
"Well, it's true. He would."
"Never mind about him. Tell me about your plan."
Hallock took a sip of his club soda, and decided it tasted better than those fancy carbonated waters costing three times as much. He knew he was stalling. The plan involved Fran, and it meant her sacrificing a lot of time. He didn't know if she'd go for it, but he had to give it a try. "I guess I told you I think the A stands for either the killer's last name or first."
She nodded.
"Well, I was thinking we could go through the phone book and list all the A names, both first and last, then call those people with a questionnaire we make up that'll sort them out. You know, find out which ones are women if it's an initial, which ones are old, housebound, crippled, etcetera. Narrow them down, get them into categories by age, jobs, stuff like that. I think we'd have something, Fran. It'd be a start anyway."
"That's a swell idea, hon', but you can't spare any of the men for that kind of thing, can you?"
"I wasn't-"
"Two steaks, one plain, very rare; one marinated, medium," the waitress interrupted, putting the rare one in front of Fran. "Will there be anything else? Another drink?"
They shook their heads.
"What were you going to say before she brought our steaks?"
"Boy, this looks great," Hallock said.
"I can't help feeling guilty having steak for lunch."
"Why? Don't you think you deserve it?"
"We shouldn't be spending the money, Waldo. I mean with Cynthia needing all that dental work."
Hallock reached across the table, put a large hand over her smaller one. "Tell me this: If we were here for dinner instead of lunch, would you be feeling this way?"
"Maybe not. It's just that having a drink and a big steak for lunch seems decadent somehow."
"You're just like your mother."
"What's that mean?"
"Rules and regulations. Don't wear white till after Memorial Day, always put the toilet seat down after you go, only have steak for dinner."
Fran laughed. "I see what you mean."
"Good." He patted her hand. Hallock knew how much Fran loved to eat and marveled that she never gained an ounce. "Now dig in."
They both attacked their steaks in silence for a few minutes. Then Fran said, "So go on about your plan. You were telling me about the phone book thing."
He kept his eyes on his plate, fiddled with his baked potato.
"Waldo? What's up?"
He raised his head, the brown eyes with their downward slant appearing sad.
"Stop looking like a cur, Waldo."
"I'm not looking like a cur. Christ!"
"I know a cur when I see one. What I don't know is why you're behaving like one. You have something up your sleeve, don't you? Something you don't want to tell me."
"I want to tell you, I just don't know how."
She put down her fork. "You're going to do something dangerous, aren't you?"
"No, no, nothing like that."
"You sure?"
"Positive. I swear." He crossed his heart with his forefinger.
"Well, what then? You're making me crazy."
Hallock put down his utensils, ran his hand over his chin as if he were feeling for stubble. "Fran, the thing is, about those names in the phone book-I mean, well, you said it yourself."
"Am I supposed to know what you're talking about? I'd need a decoder ring for that one."
"Hold on, hold on. You said I couldn't spare anyone for that kind of work and you were right, I can't. But it needs to be done, the stuff with the phone book and-"
"I think I'm getting it," she said despondently. "Me. You want me to do it."
"You and some of your friends." He smiled crookedly.
"You have to be kidding, Waldo."
"I'm not. It wouldn't be so bad. Get the girls over, make a contest out of it."
"Oh, that's nice, that's real nice put that way. Like we're a bunch of ninnies who need to play games or something."
"Ah, no, Fran, I didn't mean it like that."
"And this lunch," she said, eyeing him suspiciously, "this damn lunch was to butter me up, wasn't it?"
"Not a bit. I just wanted to have lunch with my wife. Is that a crime?"
"Waldo Hallock, you'd better own up, because if you don't I'm walking right out of here and leaving you to get back to Seaville on your own."
He knew the jig was up. "Okay, I'll admit it. I brought you here to get you in the mood for my proposal, but I also just wanted to have lunch with you. Because I like having lunch with you. Fran, listen, we've got nothing to go on. Not one goddamn clue. Except for the letter A."
"How do you even know it's an A? Maybe it just looks like an A."
"I've thought of that. But seeing it as an A is the best thing I've got. I'll admit it's a long shot, but I've got to try it."
"You mean I've got to try it."
"You and your friends. I don't expect you to tackle the phone book alone."
"Which friends?"
"Well, the ones you go marching with. Seems to me something like this would be right up their alley."
"Waldo, in case you don't get it, my marching friends are interested in human rights, not solving crimes."
"This is human rights. It's a human right not to be murdered."
"That's not even funny."
"Didn't mean it to be funny. Look, there's about twenty-five thousand names in the local book. If five of you took five thousand names each, you'd get the A's out of it in about a day or two. You should end up with maybe three hundred A-related names each. I'll have four new phone lines put in, and it probably wouldn't take more than three or four days to get through them with the questionnaire we'll make up. Then you'd have to sort them, get them into categories. After that, well, I'm not sure exactly how we'd approach it from there, but I'll figure it out."
"What you're saying, Waldo, is you want five women, me included, to give up a week of our time to try out a scheme you're not even sure will work."
"Dammit, Fran, you give up your time for stuff a lot less important than this."
"Like what?"
"Like every damn cause that comes down the pike, that's what! Save the whales, drunk drivers, nuclear plants, save the wetlands, planned parenthood, right to abortion-"
"You just wait a minute, Waldo. Are you saying those things are less important than running down some names in a phone book so you can maybe find some nut?"
"Some nut who's a killer, Fran, just don't forget that little point. I mean, you spend hours every week on stuff like getting sex education in the schools, which I could add is a little bit embarrassing to me, and when I ask you to do me, your husband and public servant, a favor, you go bananas."
"You call this going bananas? Oh, hon', you ain't seen nothin' yet."
The whole point of this lunch was slipping through his fingers. He had to calm down, do something quick. "Okay, okay. Let's not get all hot under the collar. I won't attack you, you don't attack me. Here's the deal. I'm asking you to do me a favor. You and some friends. I'm sure you can find some willing to help. I'm asking a favor of a wife for her husband. In other words, a love gift for a husband, and service to the community."
"That is out-and-out blackmail."
"I guess it is. Even so, that's what I'm asking." He grinned boyishly.
Fran stared at him not smiling. "I'll think about it."
"Time is of the essence."
"I need to think about it."
"Two hours?"
"Three."
"Right."
She picked up her knife and fork, cut a good-size piece of steak, popped it into her mouth, chewed, swallowed. "Not going to let this go to waste."