“The arm-no’s the thing that’s really eating at me,” Marino then said.
“Frost should be back in his lab within the hour,” I said, but Marino did not seem to care.
“I’ll call him. I’m not going up there in all this mess.”
I could tell he did not want to leave me and his mind was on more than this case,
“Something’s troubling you,” I said.
“Yeah, Doc. Something always is.”
“What this time?”
He got out his pack of Marlboros again, and I thought of my mother, whose constant companion now was an oxygen tank, because she once had been as bad as him.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he warned as he fished for his lighter again.
“I don’t want you to kill yourself. And today you seem to be really trying.”
“We’re all going to die.”
“Attention,” blared a fire truck’s P.A. system. “This is the Richmond Fire Department.
The emergency has ended.
You may reenter the building,” sounded the mechanical broadcast with its jarring repetitive beeps and monotonous tones. “Attention.. “The emergency has ended. You may reenter the building.
“Mc.” Marino went on, unmindful of the commotion, “I want to croak while I’m drinking beet-, eating nachos with chili and sour cream, sniokino, downing shots of lack Black and watching the game.”
“You may as well have sex while you’re at it.” I did not smile, for I found nothing amusing about his health risks.
“Doris cured me of sex.” Marino was serious, too, as He referred to the woman he’d been married to most of his life.
When did You hear from her last”” I asked, as I realized she .was probably the explanation for his mood.
He moved around buildings and homes were thick with shadows, and anyone could wait in them and not be seen.
I looked across at my new car, and the small yard beyond it where the dog lay in wait.
He was silent just now, and I walked north on the sidewalk for several yards to see what he might do. But he did not seem interested until I neared his yard. Then I heard the low, evil growling that raised the hair on the back of my neck. By the time I was unlocking my car door, he was on his hind legs, barking and shaking the fence.
“You’re just guarding your turf, aren’t you, boy?” I said. “I wish you could tell me what you saw last night.”
I looked at the small house as an upstairs window suddenly slid up.
“Bozo, shut up!” yelled a fat man with tousled hair.
“Shut up, you stupid mutt!” The window slammed shut.
“All right, Bozo,” I said to the dog who was not really called Outlaw, unfortunately for him. “I’m leaving you alone now.” I looked around one last time and got into my car.
The drive from Daigo’s restaurant to the restored area on Franklin where police had found my former car took less than three minutes if one were driving the posted speed.
I turned around at the hill leading to Sugar Bottom, for to drive down there, especially in a Mercedes, was out of the question. That thought led to another.
I wondered why the assailant would have chosen to remain on foot in a restored area with a Neighborhood Watch program as widely publicized as the one here. Church Hill published its own newsletter, and residents looked out their windows and did not hesitate to call the cops, especially after shots had been tired. It seemed it might have been safer to have casually returned to my car and driven a safe distance away.
Yet the killer did not do this, and I wondered if he knew this area’s landmarks but not the culture because he really was not from here. I wondered if he had not taken my car because his own was parked nearby and mine was of no interest. He didn’t need it for money or to get away. That theory made sense if Danny had been followed instead of happened upon. While he was eating dinner, his assailant could have parked, then returned to the cafe on foot and waited in the dark near the Mercedes while the dog barked.