I began taking her out when she was seventeen and I guess I camped here on the Carella doorstep for the next five years. Wouldn’t you say so, Mr. Carella?”
“Yes, he was a pest,” Tony agreed.
“She’s a wonderful girl,” Ben said. “Tommy’s a very lucky guy. There aren’t many girls like Angela Carella around.”
The screen door behind Ben clattered shut. He turned abruptly. Steve Carella came out onto the porch.
His father looked up. “She’s all right?” he asked.
“She’s all right,” Carella said.
“Girls,” Tony said mysteriously, and he shook his head.
“Hello, Ben,” Carella said. “How are you?”
“Fine, thanks. You?”
“So-so. You’re a little early, aren’t you?”
“I guess so. I was just out for a walk, thought I’d stop by to see if I could lend a hand. Is Angela all right?”
“She’s fine.”
“Everything seems to be okay at Tommy’s house. The limousine’s there already.”
“Oh?”
“Yep. Sitting in Tommy’s driveway when I walked by there.”
“Good. Then I better get started.” He looked at his watch. “Honey, Bert and I will be riding with Tommy. You don’t mind, do you?”
Teddy looked up at him. He could read in an instant any nuance on her mobile face. Deprived of speech since birth, her face had become a tool of expression so that meaning was instantly transmitted through her eyes and lips. He had expected displeasure at his announcement but, reading her face now, he saw only puzzlement and realized she had not “heard” him. Standing behind her as he’d spoken, he had not shown her his lips to read. He knelt beside her chair now.
“Bert and I are going to the church in Tommy’s car. Is that all right with you?”
There was still no displeasure on her face. The puzzlement remained, and with it came a suspicious narrowing of the eyes. He knew in that moment that he had not fooled his wife. He had not told her of the incident with the black widow spider, but Teddy Carella—in her silent world—had already fathomed that something was amiss. The presence of Hawes and Kling was not the fulfillment of a social amenity. They were here as policemen, not wedding guests. She nodded, and then reached up to kiss him.
“I’ll see you at the church,” he said. “Are you all right?”
She nodded again. Her back was still killing her, but she sensed her husband had more important things on his mind than the trials of pregnancy. She flashed a sudden, radiant smile. Carella squeezed her hand. “Come on, Bert,” he said.
A black Cadillac limousine was parked in the driveway on the blind side of the Giordano house when Carella and Kling arrived. The car sat far back from the street, at the end of the concrete strips, close to the garage. The driver was nowhere in sight.
As they walked up onto the front porch, Kling said, “I make it for a gag, Steve. I think we’re going to a lot of trouble for nothing.”
“Well, maybe,” Carella answered, and he rang the doorbell. “It doesn’t hurt to be careful, though, does it?”
“I guess not. I get the feeling, however, that Cotton would much rather be elsewhere with his blonde.” He paused. “But… that’s show biz.”
“Huh?” Carella said, and Tommy opened the door.
“Steve, hi! Come on in. I was just dressing. Do you know how to tie a bow tie? I’ve been trying for the past half-hour and getting nowhere. Come on in.” He looked at Kling curiously.
“Bert Kling,” Carella said, “Tommy Giordano, my future brother-in-law. Bert’s with the squad, Tommy.”
“Oh. Oh, yeah. Come on in. I feel pretty silly about all this, Steve. I think it’s a gag.”
Kling caught Carella’s eye. “Well, gag or not,” Carella said, “Bert and another friend of mine will be at the wedding and the reception.”
“I appreciate what you’re doing, Steve,” Tommy said, “but in thinking it over, I’m pretty sure it was a gag. Come on into the bedroom, will you?”
They followed him through the house. In the bedroom, Tommy took a white tie from the dresser top and handed it to Carella. “Here,” he said. “See what you can do with this damn thing, will you?”
He faced Carella. He lifted his chin, and Carella began working on the tie.
“I checked on Sokolin,” Carella said.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t want you to start worrying…but he’s in this city. Got out of jail in April.”
“Oh.”
“Still think it’s a gag?”
“Gee, I don’t know. You think a guy would carry a grudge all this time? For something that happened in Korea? Or really, for something that didn’t even—”
“Were you