she could look them in the eye knowing that Eva was dead and that they were all about to be pulled off their unofficial positions on the case. Herbert was right. This was a job for him. He handled the dirty work so well.
Auntie Lil took advantage of a lull in the crowd to speak to Bob Fleming. She felt guilty for having been afraid of him at Homefront. "I must salute you," she began. "Being able to put your own troub—" She stopped. Bob Fleming had turned pale and was not listening. He was staring at the door behind her.
She whirled around. Little Pete was heading straight for them and his face was streaked with tears. Gone was the tough little man of the streets. He was a terrified child crying for help. At first she could not understand his words, he was emitting such an hysterical mixture of cries and bellowings. Bob Fleming was better at the translation.
"What?" He jumped over the counter and pushed a hungry customer aside. "What did you say?" he demanded of the terrified boy. Father Stebbins hurried around the counter and joined the tableau.
"He's dead," Little Pete shouted, tears streaking down his face. "I think he's dead. The man said to go get Timmy at Homefront and bring him to this old building but when we got there, Rodney started beating up on him. You should have heard the sound. I had to run away. He was too big." The boy held his hands over his ears and shut his eyes to erase the memory. "I didn't know where else to go. You wasn't at Homefront so I thought of here."
"Where is Timmy now?" Fleming shouted, pulling on Little Pete's arms. He screamed over his shoulder for Annie O'Day. Auntie Lil knelt down and drew the sobbing boy close. She was vaguely aware that a crowd had gathered around them, and that Adelle and her followers hovered on the outer perimeter watching and exchanging horrified glances.
"Where is he now?" Bob Fleming insisted again, before he was pushed aside by an efficient Annie O'Day.
"Pete, Pete, Pete," she repeated over and over until the boy calmed down. "Maybe Timmy isn't dead. Maybe he's just hurt. I want you to bring me to him. Okay? I'll come with you now and you show me where he is. Where the man left him. I'm a nurse. Maybe I can help Timmy." She spoke slowly and calmly until the small boy stopped trembling. The rest of the room waited quietly. She knew what she was doing.
"He's in that old piano warehouse along Eleventh Avenue," Little Pete sobbed in a tiny voice. He gulped. "There's a way to sneak in the back."
"He's talking about the building at Eleventh and Forty-Sixth," Annie told Bob Fleming sharply. "Call an ambulance and have them meet me there." She turned back to Little Pete and her voice softened to that of a mother crooning a child to sleep. "Can you take me there?" she asked gently. "I'll bring my bag and we'll see what we can do."
Pete nodded and waited while Annie grabbed her bag from a shelf in the kitchen, then took her outstretched hand. They walked calmly out of the basement and the crowd parted before them without comment. Even the most deranged of the kitchen's customers sensed that something terrible had just happened and that, whatever it was, it was bad enough without their help.
As soon as Annie and Little Pete hit the steps, they began to run.
Auntie Lil stared after them, only dimly aware that Bob Fleming had dashed upstairs in search of a telephone. She was startled back to reality by a terrible choking sound. Father Stebbins had turned pale blue white and was slumped against the counter with his hand on his throat, coughing violently. The cough turned into a rasping wheeze.
Oh, God, Auntie Lil thought. Not another.
"Asthma," Father Stebbins wheezed helplessly. "Medicine upstairs." Fran took off running up the steps without being asked, while Auntie Lil loosened his collar. He bent at the waist, trying to breathe. The mixture of choked air and garbled words was as terrifying as Little Pete's pronouncement had been. The priest sounded as if he were being strangled into silence.
"My fault," he whistled between whooping intakes of breath. "This is all my fault."
"Don't talk," Auntie Lil commanded, shooing the curious back. She exchanged a glance with Adelle and the elderly actress majestically wound her way through the crowd toward Auntie Lil.