Timothy Zahn - The Green And The Gray

But now an Oreste Green had popped up into the case, along with a Halfdan Gray. Could the references be to names, after all?

He looked over at the kitchen door. Jonah had never given him a last name, he realized suddenly.

Jonah Gray, perhaps?

Whether it was or not, it was definitely time to ask the man some questions. Detaching himself from the wall, he retraced his steps across the living room to the kitchen.

He was just reaching out a hand to push open the door when he heard a quiet voice coming from beyond it.

He froze in place, listening hard. Just one voice, which implied Jonah was talking on the phone.

Hooking his fingertips into the louvers, Fierenzo carefully pulled the door open an inch.

"—course not," Jonah was saying, his tone managing to sounding indignant and hurt at the same time. "I'm just wondering what in blazes I'm doing here."

There was a brief pause. "Because it's a waste of time, that's why," he went on. "No one's going to bring Melantha here."

Fierenzo felt a tingle on the back of his neck. Melantha. He was talking about the missing girl.

But who was he talking to?

"Because it would be stupid," Jonah said. "If they want her under Warrior protection, they put her in Central. If they just want her hidden, they pick any one of the five gazillion trees lining the streets."

Carefully, using the sound of Jonah's voice as cover, Fierenzo eased the door open a few more inches.

To find himself faced with an extraordinary sight. Jonah was still at the table, his back to Fierenzo, half a sandwich temporarily abandoned on his plate. But he wasn't talking on the kitchen phone, as Fierenzo had assumed. Instead, he was sitting with both hands up along the sides of his head, palms pressing against his cheeks and middle fingers poking into his ears in a classic hear-no-evil posture.

"If I had seen any, don't you think I would have reported it?" Jonah asked patiently. "What do you

—? Fine. You want a traffic report? I'll give you a traffic report."

He exhaled an annoyed sigh. "Okay. Vehicular traffic's pretty much the same as it has been all day, maybe picking up a little on Canal in the past hour. Not many pedestrians, what with the rain and all.... No, Bergan, I'm not being insubordinate. Trust me; if I was, I'd be doing a lot better job....

Because I'm being wasted here, that's why. I already explained they're not going to put her in some little pocket park. They're certainly not going to put her in a pocket park down here, with Torvald's crowd between them and Central. You want me to be of some actual use, send me to Riverside or Washington. Even Gramercy's a better bet than this place."

He paused again. Fierenzo peered closely at his hands, trying to figure out which of them held a radio or phone. But he couldn't see anything in either one.

"Yes, and I'm sorry," Jonah said. "But I have to sleep sometime.... Yeah. Don't worry—I'll call you the minute they show up.... Sure."

He lowered his right hand away from his head—his empty right hand, Fierenzo saw now—leaving the left still pressed against his cheek. The right hand's little finger twitched once—

"Okay, he's off," Jonah went on, his voice suddenly ominous. "You want to tell me where you were about ten this morning?... Come on, Jordan—this is me you're talking to.... Oh, terrific. Let me tell you something kiddo: that was Bergan himself at the third corner of this little conversation, and he's spitting granite right now.... Look, forget the Greens for a minute and concentrate on what Bergan and Ingvar are going to do if they ever find out that was you. And consider yourself lucky that some cop didn't see you climbing into that car."

A second tingle ran up Fierenzo's back Climbing into that car...?

"Yes, I understand," Jonah went on, his tone marginally more sympathetic. "But I really don't think there's anything to worry about. Even if Halfdan had gotten hold of them, there really isn't anything useful they can tell him. Same goes for the Greens.... Yes, even the Persuaders. Just quit with the impromptu heroics before someone catches you, okay?... No, I should be fine for awhile—I'm getting some food, and that's mostly what I needed. You just stay put and keep feeding me updates.

And start with the traffic report next time, okay? Especially the pedestrians. That's what Halfdan's looking for, and it's a hard topic to vamp on.... Good. And stay there this time."

He sighed. "I know," he said. "Don't worry, we'll find her. Look, I have to go. Watch yourself."

Carefully, Fierenzo eased the door shut. He ran a ten count, then stepped on the loose floorboard by the wall and gave it a nice loud squeak. Pushing open the door, he strode nonchalantly into the kitchen. "Sorry about that," he apologized, circling the table. "Business. How you holding up?"

Jonah was munching away at his sandwich again as if nothing had happened. "Finally starting to get filled up, I think," he said. "A nap's starting to sound better and better, though."

"Well, you should have plenty of time for one," Fierenzo said, watching the other's face closely. "I have to get back to the Two-Four. Someone nearly got run over near Washington Square a couple of hours ago, and I need to check it out."

"Really," Jonah said. He was trying hard to keep his voice casual, but Fierenzo could hear the sudden underlying tension. "Anyone hurt?"

"I don't think so, but the details are kind of confused," Fierenzo said. "That's why I want to talk to the witness personally."

Jonah's face had gone very still. "Witness?"

"Somebody named Green," Fierenzo said offhandedly, getting up from his chair. "My partner is taking him in to describe the driver for a police artist."

"That should be useful," Jonah murmured.

"It can make or break a case," Fierenzo agreed, pulling on his coat. "Don't open the door or answer the phone—the machine can take any calls. If you get hungry again, help yourself to anything in the fridge. I'll be back soon." He smiled encouragingly as he pushed open the door and stepped into the living room. He was still smiling as he let the door swing shut.

The smile evaporated, and for a moment he glowered at the closed door. Jonah knew about the incident, all right—his voice and posture had shown that as clearly as if he'd held up a poster. And Fierenzo would bet money that his friend Jordan had been the kid behind the wheel.

How Jonah knew what Jordan had done still begged for an explanation. But even if the details were still foggy, one thing was crystal clear. A case that had started as a simple apartment break-in had escalated to kidnapping, assault, and possibly attempted murder. It was a trend Fierenzo didn't care for at all.

Still, the incident had allowed him to dangle some interesting bait in front of his mysterious houseguest. If Jonah was obliging enough to take it, the 24th Precinct might soon be getting some interesting visitors.

He shook his head as he headed for the elevators. This was turning out to be one hell of a day off.

Roger had planned to take them on the same kind of convoluted route he'd used the previous evening after leaving Torvald's studio. But with the sun now well past the meridian, and Caroline's reminder that both the Greens and the Grays seemed to know pretty much everything about their movements anyway, he decided it wasn't worth the effort. They changed trains only twice, at Times Square and Grand Central, reached their final stop, and set off on the five-block walk to the Youngs' apartment.

The drizzle, which had stopped while they were talking to Nikolos, began again a block into the walk, and Roger bought another umbrella to replace the one they'd lost during the escape from Ingvar and his lunatic driver buddy.

They checked the apartment itself first in case Melantha had managed to find her way back. But she hadn't. Caroline insisted on leaving a short note with Roger's cell phone number, and then they headed back outside.