Who's sorry now?

thought. Bernadette probably puts them to bed the way she puts the rabbits to bed. Just shove them in bed (or a cage) and walk away.
    Robert went back to Grace and Favor and called Peter Winchel, the town treasurer. ”I’ve spoken to both Mr. Buchanan and Mrs. Gasset since the meeting. Mrs. Gasset is very anxious to take the job. Could you consider paying her two and a half or three dollars a day?”
    ”That’s up to the whole council to decide. I’m fairly sure they’d agree to two and a half, though.”
    ”How about this—Mr. Buchanan says the heaviest day is Monday because there is no delivery on Sunday. Could you persuade them to pay three dollars for Monday and two and a half for the other days?”
    ”Sounds good to me,” Mr. Winchel said in his deep voice that indicated his authority.
    Howard heard early Friday morning from the fingerprint expert from Yonkers. ”This is Joseph Cline.”
    ”Nice to hear from you.”
    ”I’ve been a bit tardy. My wife just had our first baby. But I do know about the prints on this cup. Having his full name helped a lot. I’ve just looked him up. Clever of you, Chief Walker, using that smooth cup. Do you want it back?”
    ”No, thanks. What do you know about Mario Peck?”
    ”First, that Peck isn’t his real name. His real name is an Italian name with lots of vowels. He’s a petty crook. A long list of scams. Did a little time for one that destroyed the finances of an elderly lady. Most recently...” Mr. Cline seemed to be trying to stifle a laugh. He went on, ”Mario hit a parking meter in a borrowed car. Claimed he’d driven a long way and fell asleep at the wheel.”
    ”Was it really borrowed or stolen? Let me guess. Stolen, right?”
    ”Of course stolen. But there’s more to the story. He was wearing protective glasses, heavy headgear, and thick leather gloves. Behind the parking meter was an Italian restaurant where a bunch of Mafia guys were having dinner at a table at the front window.”
    ”He was aiming for them,” Howard said. It wasn’t a question.
    ”Apparently the protective glasses foiled him. He missed his target because he couldn’t see the parking meter. No real harm was done to anyone. It wasn’t followed up, just entered in his record. Except for the damage to the stolen car. He did have to pay for that in trade for jail time. Shortly after that, he took that dreadful office. Laying low, apparently.”
    ”When I went to his office and did the coffee cup trick, I noticed that his name wasn’t on the door of his office. Just that it was Room 3B. Is he a known member of the Mafia?”
    ”It’s probably part of some really low-ranking group trying to get their feet in the door with some other big guys. If Mario had done what he intended to do, he’d have done time. But come out golden. A good attorney would have been paid for by his cronies and he would have had the grateful thanks of some other big-time mobsters.”
    ”Interesting,” Howard said with a laugh, but then turned serious. ”But not much good for the case I’m investigating.”
    Mr. Cline asked what the case was about, and Howard explained.
    ”That’s really sad. A poor veteran down on his luck and murdered so viciously. If you do find even a remote connection to Mario, please let me know. I’d like to help, and if I can do anything for you, I’d certainly be willing to.”
    ”Thanks. I’ll keep in touch if I need to. Boy or girl? Your new baby?”
    ”A ten-and-a-half-pound girl. We’re thinking maybe she’ll turn into a good football player someday if they ever let girls play.”
    ”What’s the baby’s name?” Howard asked.
    ”Ellen Marie.”
    ”A lovely name,” Howard said. ”I’ll send her a ‘girl’ toy.
    ”No need to. My wife has three older sisters who only have boys and have bought all the girly dresses and toys. Our baby’s room is full of them.”
    ”I’ll send one more anyway,” Howard said.
     

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
    Saturday, May 6, to Monday, May 8
     
    AS WALKER HAD PROMISED, Parker’s brown suit looked almost new by the time Mimi was done with it. She’d patched a fraying spot on an elbow with part of the hem of a trouser and pressed the suit to perfection.
    Howard had alerted the telephone exchange that both he and his deputy would be gone for several hours that afternoon and if anything needed attention desperately to call the police in Fishkill or Cold Spring to fill in.
    As they drove to Yonkers, Parker asked, ”Why is