“Yes, I know she was. What can you tell us about the man you saw?”
“Hardly paid him any attention. My eyes are pretty good yet. Got them fixed up again last March, but I wasn’t paying him much mind.”
Absently, she pulled a pack of nap-wipes out of a cavernous handbag, and passed them to Baxter.
“Thank you, Mrs. Parksy,” he said in a humbled, respectful voice.
“You’re a good boy.” She patted his hand, then turned her attention back to Eve. “Where was I? Oh yes. I was just coming out to wait for my grandson. He comes by every Sunday at nine-fifteen, to take me to church. You go to church?”
There was a quick and beady gleam in Mrs. Parksy’s eyes, causing Eve to hesitate between the truth and a convenient lie.
“Yes, ma’am,” Trueheart spoke up, his face solemn. “I like to go to Mass at St. Pat’s when I can get into Midtown on Sunday. Otherwise, I go to Our Lady of the Sorrows, downtown.”
“Catholic, are you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, that’s all right.” She patted his hand in turn, as if it wasn’t his fault.
“You saw the man come out from Mrs. Gregg’s building,” Eve prompted.
“Said I did, didn’t I? He came out just a minute after I stepped out my own front door across the street. Had on a gray uniform and carried a black toolbox. Had a blue plastic basket in his other hand, like the kind they have down at the market. Couldn’t see what was in it, ’cause it was a ways, and I wasn’t staring at the man.”
“What can you tell me about how he looked?”
“Looked like a repairman, is all. White man, or maybe mixed. Hard to tell as the sun was blasting. Don’t know how old. Not as old as me. Thirty, forty, fifty, sixty, that’s all the same when you hit your century mark, and I hit mine seventeen years ago last March. But I’d say thirty or forty as a best guess.”
“Congratulations, Mrs. Parksy,” Trueheart said and she smiled at him.
“You’re a very nice young man. This other, he had a cap on, uniform cap, and sunglasses. Dark ones. Had mine on, myself. Sun was blazing even though it was early. He saw me. Couldn’t see his eyes, of course, but he saw me, as he sent me a big as life grin and gave me this little bow. Sassy’s what I call it, and I just sniffed and looked the other way, as I don’t hold with sass. Sorry about that now. Wish I’d watched after him more.”
“Which direction did he go?”
“Oh, he headed east. Spring in his step, like a man pleased with his morning’s work. Bad business, bad business when a man can all but skip out the door and onto the sidewalk when he’s killed a woman. Loi
s went to the market for me more than once when I was feeling poorly, and she brought me flowers to cheer me up. Always had a minute to chat. I wish I’d known what he’d done when I saw him. My grandson drove up just a minute or two later. He’s always prompt. I’d’ve told him to run that murdering bastard down on the street. As God is my witness, I would’ve.”
She worked Mrs. Parksy until she was sure she had everything the woman could give her, then passed her to Trueheart, asking him to escort her to a uniform for transport home.
“Baxter, another minute here.” She dug in her pocket and discovered she’d given Peabody all her credits earlier. “Got enough on you for a Pepsi?”
“What’s wrong with using your badge number? You over your limit?”
She gave him a disgusted look, with a sulk right on the edges. “I plug in my badge number, the machine will give me grief. The one up by our squad hates me, has a personal vendetta. And they talk to each other, Baxter. Don’t think they don’t communicate.”
He studied her for one long minute. “You need a vacation.”
“I need a friggin’ Pepsi. You want an IOU?”
He walked to the machine, keyed in his badge number, ordered the tube.
GOOD AFTERNOON. YOU HAVE ORDERED ONE EIGHT-OUNCE TUBE OF PEPSI. IT’S ICED! HAVE A SAFE AND PRODUCTIVE DAY, AND DON’T FORGET TO RECYCLE.
He tugged it out of the slot, walked back, and handed it to her. “My treat.”
“Thanks. Listen I know you’ve got backlog. I appreciate you taking the time for the canvass.”
“Just put it in your report. I could use the shine.”