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"He saw a man walk down Eleventh Avenue, turn--"
" 'Suddenly,' he said," added no-freckle Bedding.
"--and go through an alley that led to the train underpass. He just stood there for a while--"
"Looking down."
Rhyme was troubled by this. "That doesn't sound like our boy. He's too smart to risk being seen like that."
"But--" Saul continued, raising a finger and glancing at his partner.
"There was only one window in the whole 'hood you could see the place from."
"Which is where our wit happened to be standing."
"Up early, bless his heart."
Before he remembered he was angry with her Rhyme asked, "Well, Amelia, how's it feel?"
"I'm sorry?" Her attention returned from the window.
"To be right," Rhyme said. "You pegged Eleventh Avenue. Not Thirty-seventh."
She didn't know how to respond but Rhyme turned immediately back to the twins. "Description?"
"Our wit couldn't say much."
"Was on the sauce. Already."
"He said it was a smallish guy. No hair color. Race--"
"Probably white."
"Wearing?" Rhyme asked.
"Something dark. Best he could say."
"And doing what?" Sellitto asked.
"I quote. 'He just like stood there, looking down. I thought he gonna jump. You know, in front of a train. Looked at his watch a couple times.' "
"And then finally left. Said he kept looking around. Like he didn't want to be seen."
What had he been doing? Rhyme wondered. Watching the victim die? Or was this before he planted the body, checking to see if the roadbed was deserted?
Sellitto asked, "Walked or drove?"
"Walked. We checked every parking lot--"
"And garage."
"--in the neighborhood. But that's near the convention center so you got parking coming out your ears. There're so many lots the attendants stand in the street with orange flags and wave cars in."
"And 'causa the expo half of them were full by seven. We got a list of about nine hundred tags."
Sellitto shook his head. "Follow up on it--"
"It's delegated," said Bedding.
