Silent Prey

eating cookies,” he said. “These things are great. You could make a fortune selling them.”
    “Oh, that’s nice,” she said, smiling. “What happened to your face?”
    “I was mugged.”
    “Isn’t that just like New York? Even the cops . . .”
    “How do you know this guy went to Petty’s apartment?” Lucas asked.
    “Well, I heard him come in, and then the elevator dinged, so he was going up. Then just a second later, I heard another ding, like it was coming from the kitchen. That’s the second floor. If it goes to the third floor, I can barely hear it. If it goes to the fourth, I can’t hear it at all.”
    “Okay,” Lucas said, nodding. “So you heard it ding on the second floor.”
    “Yes. And the Lynns and Golds were already in and the Schumachers were at Fire Island that whole weekend. So it had to be Walter, and it was about the time healways came in. I didn’t hear him flush, though. Then I heard the elevator ding on the second floor again, and it came down. Then whoever it was, I thought was looking at apartments again, because it was a minute before the outside door opened . . . . I should have looked, but I was watching my show.”
    “That’s fine,” said Lucas, nodding. “And it wasn’t a visitor to one of the other apartments?”
    “No,” Logan said, shaking her head. “When the cops got here and I found out what happened, I told them about somebody coming, and they talked to everybody up there. Nobody came in at that time, and nobody had any visitors.”
    When they finished with Logan, they rode up in the elevator and Lily cut the seals off Petty’s door. The apartment had been neatly kept but had been pulled apart by investigators. The refrigerator had been unplugged, and the door stood open. Cupboard doors were open and paper was stacked everywhere. Lucas went to Petty’s desk, which was set in a tiny alcove, and thumbed through financial records . . . . No personal phone book.
    “No phone book.”
    “The Homicide guys probably have it. I’ll ask.”
    Ten minutes later, Lily said, “This is like the interview with Rich. There isn’t anything here.”
    On the way out, Mrs. Logan met them in the hallway with a brown paper bag, which she handed to Lucas. “More cookies,” she said.
    “Thanks,” he said, and then, “When I finish them, I may come back for more.”
    The old lady giggled, and Lucas and Lily went looking for a cab.
    • • •
    Cornell Reed. Cornell Reed had seen the killer, an old white guy, and recognized him as a cop.
    Lucas lay on the hotel bed and thought about it, sighed, rolled off the bed, found his pocket address book, and picked out Harmon Anderson’s home phone number. As he dialed the number, he glanced at his watch. It would be midnight, Minneapolis time.
    Anderson was in bed.
    “Jesus, Lucas, what’s going on?”
    “I’m in New York . . . .”
    “I know, I heard. I wish I was there . . . .” Lucas heard him turn away from the phone and say to someone in the background, “Lucas.” Then to Lucas, he said, “My wife’s here, she says hello.”
    “Look, I’m sorry I woke you up . . .”
    “No, no . . .”
    “And I don’t want to cause you any problems, but would you be available to do a little computer work? I’d pay you a consultant’s fee.”
    “Ah, fuck that, what do you need?”
    “I’m in a snakepit, man. Could you find out what airlines fly out of New York, all the big airports, including Newark, and check from the beginning of the month, see if there’s a ticket for a Cornell Reed? Or any first name Cornell, if you can do that? Or Red Reed? I don’t think it’d be overseas, except maybe the Caribbean. Check domestic first, like Atlanta, L.A. or Chicago. I need to know where he went and I need to know who paid for the ticket, if we can find that out.”
    “Could take a couple of days.”
    “Get back to me—and I’m serious about a fee, man. A few bucks.”
    “We can work that out . . . .”
    “Get back to me, man.”
    When he hung up, Lucas dropped back on the bed, thinking back to the interview with Rich. Rich didn’t know why he’d been picked for Petty’s team. Neither did Lily. His only qualification seemed to be that he’d later get a call from a burglar he knew, producing the only lead in the case. Good luck of a rare and peculiar variety.
    Rich said that Cornell Reed was heavy into the crack. If that was right, Reed shouldn’t be flying out of town. If he had