already in line for the soup kitchen, but they were not regulars and claimed to never have seen Emily before. Auntie Lil kept a careful eye out for the strange man who had seen "The Eagle" breathe evil into Emily's mouth, but she did not find him or even Franklin, his more coherent tablemate. Using a list she had prepared the night before from a booklet on volunteering, she visited seven separate shelters in the vicinity of St. Barnabas but none of the workers or residents recognized Emily. She even waylaid three postmen and one Federal Express delivery woman, but none of them could help. Being New Yorkers, not a single person so much as blinked at what was clearly a photo of a dead woman.
Because it was mid-morning on a workday, few people occupied the neighborhood stoops. She did show Emily's photo to a family of plump Hispanic women who were fanning themselves with large paper fans while they enjoyed the morning sunshine. They passed the photos eagerly among themselves, then reluctantly confessed that, so far as they were concerned, Emily was a stranger.
Discouraged, Auntie Lil wandered up Forty-Sixth Street between Eighth and Ninth Avenues. Called Restaurant Row, the block was home to over a dozen eating establishments, interspersed between largely middle-class apartment brownstones. Restaurant Row was even more deserted than the residential blocks around it. A few deliverymen hurried from their trucks toward restaurants, pushing carts and supplies ahead of them, and a couple of busboys were slowly sweeping their patches of sidewalk clean.
The autumn day was growing warmer by the moment and Auntie Lil began to regret wearing the heavy felt hat she'd purchased on a recent visit to the Austrian Alps. As she neared Eighth Avenue, she spotted a man sitting in a lawn chair in front of a boarded-up hotel. From far away, he looked like just another old soul, slumped and potbellied, tired and discouraged, with nothing better to do but sit and watch life pass him by on a dirty street corner in New York City. His hands were enormous and hung to the sidewalk as he slouched low in the sagging chair. As Auntie Lil grew closer, she perceived an oddity in his profile. His face was unnaturally flattened and the silhouette marred by an enormous lump of a nose that, on even closer inspection, resembled a huge bulb of cauliflower intersected by blood vessels. Above this monstrosity, his milky green eyes were large and placid, and his white hair swept straight back from his broad forehead in carefully combed strands. His clothes were clean and such innocuous shades of brown and beige that he seemed to melt into the dirty concrete wall behind him. Auntie Lil approached him politely and showed him Emily's photos.
"I'm trying to locate a dear old friend of mine," she told the man. He stared at her lips intently as she spoke, then looked back down at the photo and nodded.
"You know her?" Auntie Lil asked in excitement, touching his arm. He looked up and she repeated her question. Again, he stared intently at her lips, then back down at the photo. Slowly, he shook his head and shrugged philosophically.
Auntie Lil could not mask her disappointment. Her shoulders fell and her head sagged along with her hopes, adding a good ten years to her frame. The old man nodded sympathetically and patted her arm in reassurance. Then he smiled and pointed across Eighth Avenue. He was indicating either a boarded-up storefront peppered by half-torn posters and obscene graffiti, or a small delicatessen with a bright yellow awning. The old man pointed again to the deli and made a pushing gesture with his hands.
"I should go there?" Auntie Lil asked. "Will they know her?"
The old man shrugged and spread his hands wide. Maybe. Maybe not. But it was the best answer she'd gotten so far.
Auntie Lil hurried across the avenue, dodging unemployed actors, construction workers in search of coffee, grumpy mothers and squalling children in baby carriages. The deli was cheery and immaculate, its outside walls painted a paler version of the bright yellow splashed across the awning, the delicious deli, promised a sign in the window. you won't believe our coffee, and our he-man heroes are the biggest bargain in manhattan.
That decided it for Auntie Lil. She was definitely going in. It was nearly noon, she was famished from walking around and, worst of all, had not been able to enjoy her customary five cups of coffee