"Jesus Christ," Healy muttered and shook her arm. He rolled over. Rune opened her eyes and said, "What's that noise? That crunching?"
Courtney stood in front of the bed and looked down at the flakes, frowning.
Rune swung her feet over the side of the bed, her legs covered with cereal. "Courtney, what did you do?"
"I'm sorry," the little girl said. "Spilled."
Healy, who'd gotten home two hours before from duty watch, said, "I'm going into Adam's room." He vanished.
Rune scooped the cereal up and brushed it off her legs, then put it back into the box. "You know better than that. Come on."
"I know better."
"Don't look so damn cute when I'm yelling at you."
"Damn cute," Courtney said.
"Come on." Rune trudged into the kitchen. She poured juice and bowls of cereal, made coffee. "Can we go to the zoo?" Courtney asked.
"Tomorrow. I've got some errands to do first. You wanta come?"
"Yeah, I wanta come." She held up her hand. "Five-high."
Rune sighed then held up her hand. The little girl slapped it.
chapter 28
A HALF HOUR LATER RUNE AND COURTNEY GOT OFF THE E train at West Fourth and started walking down Christopher Street to the water. Rune paused at the West Side Highway, took a deep breath for courage then plunged around the corner to survey the damage to her late home.
The houseboat still floated but it looked like a load of charred wood had been dumped onto the deck; irregular, glistening slabs of fluted charcoal rose from it. A haze of smoke still hung around the pier and made everything-- the houseboat, the debris, the trash cans, the chain-link--appear out of focus. The front of the pier was cordoned off with yellow police tape, fifty feet in front of where the boat bobbed like a man-o'-war that had lost a sea battle. Rune remembered her excitement at seeing the houseboat for the first time, riding in the Hudson, fifty miles north of here.
And now, a Viking burial.
She sighed, then waved to the patrolman in the front seat of a blue-and-white. He was a friend of Healy's from the Sixth Precinct, the station where the Bomb Squad was housed.
"Look at this," she called.
"Sorry about it, honey. Some of us'll drive by once in a while, check up on things, just till you get your stuff moved out."
"Yeah, if there's anything left."
There was, but the stink and smoke damage were so bad she didn't have the heart to go through it. Anyway, Courtney was restless and kept climbing on the pilings.
Rune took her by the hand and led her back up Christopher Street.
"What's that?" Courtney asked, pointing at a storefront sign encouraging safe sex. It showed a condom.
"Balloon," said Rune.
"I want one."
"When you're older," Rune answered. The words came automatically and she decided she was really getting into this kid bit. They continued on Christopher then along the tail end of Greenwich and finally onto Eighth Street. It had become a lot shabbier in the past year. More graffiti, more garbage, more obnoxious kids. But, God, the shoe stores--more places to buy cheap shoes than anywhere else in the world.
They walked down to University Place, past dozens of chic, black-clad NYU students. Rune made a detour. She stopped in front of an empty storefront. Above the door was a sign, Washington Square Video.
"I used to work there," she told Courtney. The little girl peered inside.
In the window was another sign, on yellow cardboard: For Rent Net Lease.